"Malfoy, our king!"
"Malfoy, our king!"
"Malfoy, our king!"
"History will remember this day forever!"
Fanatical Quidditch fans screamed, and Professor McGonagall nearly fainted. Their enthusiasm quickly infected many young wizards who were less passionate about Quidditch. Even Hermione thought Cyrus was utterly dazzling!
If there was anything she regretted, it was that Cyrus was wearing Malfoy's face. Had he looked like Mr. Riddle himself, she would have wanted to write him a love letter right then and there!
Compared with the roaring spectators, the players on the pitch were remarkably quiet.
Drenched in cold sweat, Graham thanked Cyrus, shaken by his narrow escape and deeply grateful.
"Thank you, Malfoy..."
"Don't worry about it. Our turn to strike back." Cyrus gave his shoulder a firm pat, and they rose together. The shortened broom was a little unbalanced, but it could still last through the match.
Jason and Duncan flew over, their faces full of remorse.
"Sorry, Graham."
"Don't worry about it. You didn't break the rules," Cyrus said before Graham could lose his temper.
Hearing that, Graham could hardly throw a fit. He merely resolved to teach Ravenclaw a lesson!
Once she confirmed that the danger had passed, Madam Hooch breathed a sigh of relief and blew her silver whistle.
"Play on!"
The fourteen players on the pitch moved again. This time, Cyrus stopped watching from the sidelines. Staying high above the action was getting rather boring.
He gripped the broken end of the broom handle with both hands, making tiny adjustments to steer. As a Seeker, he could not score with the Quaffle, but nowhere in the rules of Quidditch did it say that a Seeker could not compete for it. It simply never happened in other matches.
No Seeker abandoned the search for the Golden Snitch to chase