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Chapter 513: Golden Flyer and the Wanderball
Chapter 513: Golden Flyer and the Wanderball
From the start of the game, the Quidditch pitch had never been quiet. The audience cheered non-stop, waving colorful flags and enjoying the show.
Looking down from the stands, one would see that the original Quidditch pitch had been divided into three equally sized areas.
There were no walls or barriers between each section, yet strangely, they remained separate and distinct from each other without interfering.
However, something odd was happening on the field.
On Krum's side, it was a lively scene with five identical Knarls chasing him all over the place, attracting a lot of attention.
Fleur, on the other hand, presented an intriguing spectacle. She seemed to be performing some sort of strange dance, gracefully moving in circles around the Knarls. The Knarls showed no intention of attacking her, and occasionally, Fleur would reach out as if trying to take the golden key from the Knarl's neck. Each time she did this, the Knarl would jump aside and assume an aggressive stance.
But as soon as Fleur resumed her peculiar dance, the Knarl would calm down again.
Some observers noticed that the Knarl's reactions were slowing down. It seemed that it was only a matter of time before Fleur obtained the key.
While not as loud as the commotion on the other side, this strange dance had captured the interest of many, and quite a few spectators kept their eyes glued to this area.
The only quiet area was where Kyle was... It was almost eerily silent. There were no thrilling chases or dances here; all one could see was Kyle and the Knarl, face to face, lying on the ground as if they had been petrified.
Because of this, the area that had initially attracted everyone's attention was now almost ignored, with barely anyone paying them any mind.
"What is Kyle doing?" Fred asked, setting down the flag he had been waving that read, "Support Kyle, Hogwarts Braveheart." He rubbed his sore arms, tired from waving the flag continuously.
"Do Knarls know how to petrify?" George wondered.
"No, they don't!" Cedric shook his head. "Knarls are famous for their splitting ability. They don't possess any other magical abilities...
During that magical creature smuggling incident a few years ago, my dad complained one night after drinking that they had a hard time capturing all three Knarls. I specifically looked into these magical creatures, so I remember it clearly."
"Then what's he doing?" George asked, curious about Kyle's strategy.
Cedric shrugged. "I have no idea. Kyle probably has his own plan."
On the far right were a row of golden chairs at the front, reserved for the judges.
Madame Maxime leaned back slightly and murmured, "What is he doing?"
"I'm not sure either," replied Professor Lockhart, sitting behind her. "That boy has a good relationship with Scamander. Perhaps he has a special approach in mind."
"Do you mean he knows how to soothe the Knarl?" Madame Maxime frowned, her brows knitting together.
This was her biggest concern. If that were the case, then the advantage of Beauxbatons would be lost.
"Perhaps," Lockhart hesitated, then glanced at Dumbledore before continuing in a casual tone. "Mr. Scamander is an extraordinary Magizoologist. I believe I may only surpass him in my comprehensive understanding of Knarls, but in all other aspects, I pale in comparison.
It's a shame he couldn't be here today."
Madame Maxime nodded, understanding his subtle implication.
While Lockhart could only claim superiority in his knowledge of Knarls, that was precisely the area they were competing in.
Although it was a bit disappointing that they couldn't stop the remaining two champions in their tracks at this first task, at least Fleur would have the advantage going forward.
"Oh, look!"
At that moment, a surprised cry snapped Madame Maxime back to attention, and she instinctively looked towards the playing field.
A satisfied smile appeared on her face.
Fleur had managed to retrieve the golden key from the Knarl's neck, and she was now sprinting towards the door.
"Oh!" Another round of exclamations followed.
Unconsciously, she shifted her gaze to Kyle's area.
"What?!" the next second, Maxime jumped to her feet.
Kyle, who had been lying on the ground as if petrified, suddenly moved.
Without warning, he pounced forward, so fast that even the Knarl seemed caught off guard, let alone the spectators.
In full view of everyone, Kyle swiftly snatched the golden key from the Knarl's neck, as effortlessly as taking a roast potato from a plate.
In contrast, Krum was being chased all over the place, his clothes torn to shreds by the Knarl... Many spectators couldn't help but scratch their heads in confusion at the stark difference.
Was this really the same task? The disparity between the two was just too glaring.
On the other side of the field, Kyle, having obtained the golden key, whispered, "Now, chase after me, and you'll have completed the task too.
"There will also be dried long-snout fish left at sunset by the woods, behind the third tree from the back of the wooden house. Remember to get it quickly before the Kneazles eat it."
With that, Kyle took off running, the Knarl leaping after him in hot pursuit.
Kyle increased his speed, and the Knarl kept up, always maintaining a distance of a few inches between them.
"I knew it, I knew it!" Fred exclaimed excitedly, waving his flag in the stands. "Kyle must have been bewitching that Knarl just now, and it fell for it!"
"Come on, keep running!" George shouted hoarsely.
Finally, Kyle reached the door and promptly inserted the key into the lock.
The Knarl swiped at his back, tearing three long gashes in his robe.
"Click!"
The door opened.
Kyle stepped through the doorway.
Suddenly, everything around them seemed to shift.
The Knarl and the door behind him vanished...
Like a shattered puzzle reassembled, the vast Quidditch pitch expanded, becoming even larger than before.
Then, the ground beneath his feet began to crumble, starting from the farthest point and moving closer.
Soon, except for a one-foot radius around Kyle, there was nowhere left to stand. He was like a person standing at the edge of a towering cliff.
The spectators in the stands reacted similarly, gasping in shock at the crumbling ground before excitedly cheering once again.
A golden speck of light twinkled below the cliff, and in the blink of an eye, it appeared before everyone, moving so fast that it left a golden trail behind it, a stunning sight.
"Oh, the Golden Snitch!" someone in the stands shouted.
"No!" Cedric moved his eyes away from the Omnioculars and exclaimed excitedly, "The Golden Snitch doesn't have a long, pointed beak like that. That's a Golden Flyer, a rare and protected species in the wizarding world, banned from trade in all countries.
"It's worth mentioning that the Golden Snitch was created to replace this very creature."
"Oh... Look, the Wanderball!"
After the Golden Flyer, a round Wanderball flew into the air.
George stood up in his excitement, "Are they going to play a game of Quidditch here? It would be so interesting to watch a match during the Triwizard Tournament."
...
George had guessed correctly, but only partially.
While a Quidditch match required three types of balls, there were currently only two on the field—a Golden Flyer and... twenty-nine aggressive Wanderballs.
(End of Chapter)
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