One goal, two goals, three goals.
The match was nearly half an hour in, and no matter where the Quaffle appeared on the field, Vincent knocked it out of bounds.
Davis was starting to lose his composure. He pulled another Chaser over to form a triangular encirclement around Egil.
Unfortunately, it did little good. It could only delay things slightly and could not change the outcome of the Quaffle being knocked out of bounds.
As a spectator, Draco very much wanted to burst into song, but remembering his Head of House's "order," he could only obediently keep his mouth shut.
Another ten minutes passed before the frantic Davis finally managed to get his hands on the Quaffle.
The next second, Vincent flew toward him at a terrifying speed.
In the blink of an eye, the Quaffle was thrown toward Gryffindor's hoops.
Wood had just prepared to defend when it was suddenly caught by a large hand.
"Wayne stopped the Quaffle! Is he finally going to score?"
Under countless expectant gazes, Vincent tossed it up and swept it away with the tail of his broom.
The Quaffle, which had flown nearly two hundred feet out of bounds, was thrown back onto the pitch by Madam Hooch.
The pressure on the Ravenclaw team was growing greater and greater.
He could have aimed for the hoops, yet every time, he sent it out of bounds instead.
The first to break down was the timid Egil.
"Captain, how about—how about we surrender?"
"No!" Davis chased after Vincent with a resolute expression.
Egil clenched his fists as though he had been infected by his determination.
Score. Just ten points would be enough.
Once they got started, their momentum would return.
His Sweeping Six Stars accelerated to its limit, and he circled behind Vincent ahead of