Chapter 408: The Fake Dementor

In the midst of the chaos, all the players finally returned to the ground.

Gryffindor had technically won, but none of them wore smiles as they watched the Hufflepuffs, who were celebrating as if it were Christmas. The score gap hadn't widened as they'd hoped—they were still 190 points behind Hufflepuff overall. In the standings, nothing had changed.

Meanwhile, the Hufflepuff team, despite their nominal loss, was jubilant.

"You really did it!" Cho exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. "I could see your plan all along… giving up on the Snitch was a gamble I didn't even want to think about, but I'm so glad it worked!"

"Of course it worked," Cedric said, grinning. "Don't forget we had the best Chaser and the boldest Beaters around… not even a Firebolt could match up to that."

"The key was you holding back Harry," Kyle added with a laugh. "Otherwise, we'd never have had the time to score so many points."

"Yeah, Captain!" Mikel chimed in, clapping Cedric on the shoulder. "Keeping up with a Firebolt on a Nimbus 1700 for half an hour—seriously, I wouldn't be surprised if you got a pro team offer tomorrow. Just like that one Seeker… what was his name again?"

"That's Viktor Krum," Cho said, her eyes shining. "He's from Durmstrang, one of the best Seekers in generations. Last year, he was already being courted by top Quidditch teams. Some say he'll even represent Bulgaria in the next Quidditch World Cup."

Cedric was about to downplay the comparison—he knew that, when it came to Seeker talent, he didn't come close to Krum. By the age of fifteen, Krum was already famous in the Quidditch world, while Cedric, the same age, hadn't even received an offer as a reserve player.

But when he saw Cho's excitement, Cedric swallowed his modest response and gave a noncommittal murmur, half agreeing with her, half responding to Mikel's praise.

...

"Shameful trick!"

An angry shout echoed across the field, and the students turned to see Professor McGonagall storming toward a group sprawled awkwardly on the ground.

"Despicable, cowardly—trying to distract Gryffindor's Seeker! Detention for each of you, and fifty points from Slytherin!"

The students looked on in confusion, watching as Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe, and Marcus Flint struggled to untangle themselves from long, hooded black robes. From the way they were positioned, it seemed Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Apparently, they'd been posing as Dementors.

They had gone to some lengths to create their disguises. The robes were tattered and faded, mimicking the Dementors' signature look well enough that, from high in the air, they might have been convincing.

Nearby, George clenched his bat, looking furious. When he'd first seen them, he'd instinctively called out, terrified that Harry might lose focus and miss the Snitch. If Gryffindor had lost because of this stunt, he didn't know how he'd face his teammates.

Thinking about it, George lifted his bat, aiming at Flint's head, ready to teach him a lesson.

But just then, a hand rested on his shoulder.

"Mr. Weasley, if you'd be so kind," said Dumbledore, who had appeared behind him, his expression calm as if he hadn't noticed George's raised bat.

Dumbledore stepped forward, addressing the group. "I understand there were Dementors on the field?" he remarked mildly. "That's odd, as they're all currently in Hogsmeade."

"It was these students!" Professor McGonagall explained, seething. "They disguised themselves as Dementors to disrupt the game!"

"Ah, that explains it," Dumbledore said with a look of understanding. "Where's Severus? Is he aware of this?"

"I don't believe so."

"Then someone should inform him…" Dumbledore nodded calmly as Professor McGonagall led the four Slytherins back to the castle, their robes dragging behind them.

As soon as they were out of sight, the Gryffindor students burst into laughter, practically cheering as though they'd won the Quidditch Cup. At the front of the crowd, Ron was laughing so hard he could barely stand.

"No wonder I didn't feel any cold…" Cedric chuckled. "For a second, I thought I was getting better at the Patronus Charm!"

"Fifty points and detention... Professor McGonagall must've been really furious this time," someone added.

"Well," Kyle remarked with a smile, "they brought it on themselves. Both McGonagall and Dumbledore despise Dementors, so they kind of got what was coming."

"Let's leave it be…" Cedric said, shaking his head. "Everyone else is leaving; we should head back, too."

The group quickly left the pitch, not even bothering to change out of their team uniforms. They weren't eager to celebrate just yet—first, they needed to get their injured teammates to the Hospital Wing.

For the two Chasers, the thrill of the match quickly wore off as they began feeling the pain in their broken arms. And as for Mikel… his swollen face made it almost impossible for him to speak.

...

In the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey expertly set Grace's arm, grumbling all the while about how dangerous Quidditch was.

"Don't touch the bandages, and avoid lifting anything heavy. You'll be fine in a few days," she instructed.

Then she turned to Mikel with a frown. "As for you… your clothes are in the cabinet. Find yourself a bed. You'll likely be here for a couple of days."

"What?" Mikel's eyes went wide with disbelief. "Just for a few teeth? I need to be hospitalized?"

The Hufflepuff common room was sure to be buzzing with celebration that evening, and the thought of missing out left Mikel feeling desperate. "Can I come back on Monday?" he asked, trying to sound hopeful.

"Absolutely not!" Madam Pomfrey's tone was firm. "You're lucky you weren't carried in here after taking a Bludger to the head. In any case, you need a full examination."

"I wasn't hit directly…" Mikel stammered. "It bounced off my face after I missed it. It's hardly serious!"

"Still no!" she replied, giving him a sharp look. "You will stay here tonight, or I'll inform Professor Sprout."

The mention of his Head of House made Mikel deflate instantly. He knew there was no chance of leaving now. Even if he tried to slip away, Professor Sprout would have him back here in no time.

He sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment at missing the evening's party. Why had he missed the Bludger?