I continued to fly around the pitch, my eyes darting back and forth, watching the game unfurl below me. Our Chasers were passing around the Brits, employing the new plays we had learned. I looked on as they moved down the field, narrowly avoiding a well-aimed Bludger. Now, the three Chasers were nearing the hoops, close enough to score.
“Come on, George,” I muttered, still searching for the elusive Golden Snitch.
“And Markley scores, increasing the lead to twenty!” the announcer cried enthusiastically as the Quaffle flew past the Keeper.
The crowd erupted, both boos and cheers filling the stadium.