On Saturday morning, the Quidditch pitch was already packed with spectators.
As the only major competitive sport in a wizarding world sorely lacking in entertainment options, Quidditch's popularity was not to be underestimated.
Even if the vast majority of the students present had absolutely no talent for Quidditch—wobbling around on their brooms as if they had drunk bootleg liquor—it didn't stop them from signing up just to join the fun.
This was especially true for Hufflepuff. Ever since their team's sudden rise to prominence, the little badgers' passion for Quidditch had been instantly ignited.
At least half of the people gathered on the Quidditch pitch were students from the badger house.
Gryffindor and Hufflepuff occupied opposite ends of the Quidditch pitch.
On the Hufflepuff side, three desks were set up right beneath the goalposts.
The captain and vice-captain, along with a tough girl who had volunteered to help out as the team medic, sat behind the desks, continuously logging the names of the applicants.
Before long, the number of names on the parchment exceeded fifty.
This was an exceptionally rare number.
Granted, Hufflepuff had the largest total student population among the four Hogwarts houses—nearly double that of Slytherin, which had the fewest.
But considering the total student population of Hogwarts, Hufflepuff only had a little over two hundred students across all seven years combined.
Add to that the little badgers' usual enthusiasm for Quidditch...
Uh, they were mostly enthusiastic about watching the matches; they usually showed very little interest in actually playing.
After all, the team had been such a punching bag that they lost no matter how they played.
Therefore, in previous years, the number of people turning up for Quidditch tryouts rarely exceeded ten.
The reason they were participating so enthusiastically this year was entirely because of Kyle and Cedric—the two big powerhouses who could carry a bunch of rookies like them to an easy victory.
The Quidditch seasons of the past two school years had already proven that as long as Kyle and Cedric, the two pillars of the team, were on the pitch, they could win even if they parked five absolute goofballs in the remaining five positions.
So, what were they waiting for?
Furthermore, given the duo's titles as recipients of the Order of Merlin, Second Class, these students could brag to their future children like this:
"I once scored a thousand points in a Quidditch match alongside the youngest Order of Merlin, Second Class recipients in history."
With multiple factors combining, it resulted in the wildly fanatical sign-up situation before them.
After roughly dividing the chaotic crowd of over fifty people into five groups, Cedric had the remaining three official players on the team take them through the tryout tests.
Meanwhile, he and Kyle walked up to the stands, preparing to observe everyone's performance before deciding whether to recruit them into the team.
The tryout test wasn't overly complicated.
Unlike the usual layout of the Quidditch pitch, in addition to the six original goalposts at either end, dozens of large iron hoops levitated in the air above the pitch, forming an obstacle course.
As long as these applicants could ride their brooms and complete three laps around this course, they would pass the test.
Whether they would ultimately be recruited into the team depended entirely on their completion times.
Standing in the spectator stands and leaning against the railing, Cedric blew his whistle.
The ten people in the first group wobbled into the air. One of them even crashed hard into the very first iron hoop as they tried to fly through it, tumbling off their broom instantly.
Kyle shook his head at the sight.
He extended his hand and cast a Cushioning Charm, steadily catching the unlucky fellow who was about to break a leg.
With that level of flying, they might as well head back to the castle and go to sleep early.
The Quidditch talent of the second group of applicants remained completely mediocre, yet Kyle and Cedric watched with rapt attention.
"Tsk, tsk. That broom is fierce."
Cedric lowered his binoculars and scanned his surroundings. Only after confirming that Cho Chang wasn't nearby did he dare to speak. "Absolutely."
Kyle's binoculars hadn't left the girl in the distance for a single second.
A pretty face paired with a smoking hot figure...
Once she started playing Quidditch in the future, it would definitely be a sight to behold.
Just imagining that potential scene made Kyle feel a bit lightheaded.
"I've made up my mind! I'm recruiting her into the team! She'll be my Beater partner!"
Since they could win even with two pigs filling the vacant spots, why not recruit whomever they wanted?
"Who did you say you were recruiting into the team?" a cold voice rang out right behind Kyle's ear.
The voice nearly startled Kyle into a cold sweat.
He whipped around.
"Oh, Hermione." Kyle guiltily hid the binoculars behind his back. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be watching the Gryffindor tryouts?"
"Fewer people signed up over there, so their tryouts are almost over."
Replying casually, Hermione narrowed her eyes, her gaze scanning the sky as she looked back and forth at the members of Hufflepuff's second tryout group.
Out of a girl's natural intuition, the little beaver quickly locked onto the wavy-haired girl among them.
Kyle handed the binoculars to the little beaver and said with a perfectly straight face:
"See Rolf Scamander, old man Newt's grandson? His flying is actually pretty decent."
"With some proper training, he might even replace me as Hufflepuff's ace Beater in the future."
The little beaver gave Kyle a skeptical look. She would bet anything that this total pig of a guy was absolutely not talking about Rolf just now.
Turning around, Kyle wiped away an imaginary bead of cold sweat from his forehead.
Whew, managed to fool her at least.
By the time all five groups had finished their testing, the scores were tallied, and the top five applicants were shortlisted, an hour and a half had already passed.
Having spent ages watching rookies fumble around from the stands, Kyle stretched his arms and walked leisurely down to the Quidditch pitch below.
"Congratulations on making the cut," Cedric said with a smile to the line of people standing before him.
Old man Newt's grandson, Rolf, was among them. He ranked fifth in the tryouts, barely scraping by to become a reserve member of the Hufflepuff team.
Clearly, Rolf had not inherited his grandfather Newt's talent for Quidditch.
Back in the day, old man Newt was quite the player; he had been a Chaser for Hufflepuff and had lifted the Quidditch Cup alongside his teammates.
His talent might not compare to a literal cheater like Kyle, but it was at least on par with the Gryffindor twins.
Regrettably, old man Newt's generation could be considered the final glory of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.
Since then, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team had remained a perpetual underdog.
On average, it took about fifteen years for Hufflepuff House to win the Quidditch Cup once.
In over eighty years of history, the combined championships of the two underdogs, Hufflepuff and their neighbors Ravenclaw, probably didn't even amount to a third of Slytherin's or two-fifths of Gryffindor's.
They were truly, embarrassingly terrible.
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