When seven defenders failed to stop even one, there was no point in continuing the match.
Although none of the Slytherin players needed to go to the hospital wing and could have continued after merely switching brooms, it was clear that Harley's earlier toying with them had greatly affected every player on the field.
The Gryffindor team seemed pumped full of adrenaline, charging freely through Slytherin's half as though they were strolling through their own backyard.
Meanwhile, the entire Slytherin team looked utterly dispirited, sleepwalking through the match like headless flies, with no idea what they were supposed to do.
If people hadn't known that everyone who made this team was the wealthy young heir of a pure-blood family, they might genuinely have suspected them of betting on the other side.
The section of the stands occupied by Slytherin's little snakes had also fallen deathly silent, with many young wizards leaving early.
What was the point of staying? To wait and watch their side lose for certain, then get mocked to their faces by those stupid lions? Forget it. The little snakes suddenly remembered that they had their pride.
When Katie caught the Golden Snitch, the match finally ended, the score frozen at 490 to 30. Cheers erupted from both on and off the field once more.
Even the Slytherin players breathed a sigh of relief. At last, they no longer had to endure the torment and agony.
Still, once they returned, they would probably be dragged into a harsh meeting and thoroughly chewed out.
What the hell were they even doing? Four hundred and ninety to thirty? I could've done that myself! What are you lot even good for?
Fuck, give us our money back!
On the night of their victory, all of Gryffindor celebrated. Snacks and drinks piled