Now, I’m not a sports fan by any stretch of the imagination, but if I’m going to be forced outside to chase a ball around, it better be as nerdy and geeky as possible, which is why I dove into Quidditch Champions with all the naive hope you’d expect from someone who grew up dreaming of soaring through the skies on a broomstick.
The Harry Potter franchise has gone to great lengths over the years to show just how thrilling Quidditch is. I mean, watching it in the movies had me sold, high-speed chases, spell-flinging chaos, and just the right amount of broomstick drama. So, imagine my disappointment when Quidditch Champions was as exciting as a soggy chocolate frog.
Before we dive headfirst into this review, here’s a quick crash course on Quidditch. Essentially, it’s football with magic. You’ve got the Chasers, who pass the Quaffle and aim to score through hoops. There’s the Keeper, who defends the hoops, the Beaters, who whack Bludgers at the other players; and finally, the Seeker, whose job is to catch the elusive Golden Snitch.
In the books, scoring through a hoop earns 10 points, and catching the Snitch nets a whopping 150 points instantly ends the game. Sounds exciting, right? Apparently, the developers thought that was a bit too much, so they nerfed the Snitch harder than a first-year trying to cast Expecto Patronum. In Quidditch Champions, catching the Snitch only scores 30 points and brace yourself; it doesn’t even end the game. Instead, the match ends when one team reaches 100 points or time runs out.
Like many other Harry Potter fans, I’d been holding out for something to fill that Quidditch-shaped hole Hogwarts Legacy left behind. And what did we get? A competitive online multiplayer sports game with a solo campaign mode. It’s an effort for sure, but much like casting Expelliarmus at a brick wall, it doesn’t quite pack the magical punch I was hoping for.
Quidditch Champions wants you to find value in replayability. Still, unless you’re diving into the online multiplayer, the charm fades faster than a leaky cauldron. Without that competitive edge, the solo campaign loses its spark, leaving you with an experience that grows dull quicker than a broken broomstick.
And talking about the multiplayer mode, it’s… well, rough, would be putting it kindly. While the game promises 6v6 matches, it’s just 3v3, with each player controlling a Chaser and another role. It’s like promising a Triwizard Tournament and delivering a two-player chess match instead.
Like in solo mode, players can swap between their roles on the fly, but here’s the kicker: an AI controls whichever role you’re not using, and the poor AI is about as effective as a bewitched garden gnome. This means the other team can bully your AI teammate relentlessly, leaving you to micromanage AI characters to avoid getting completely overwhelmed. It turns Quidditch into a multitasking nightmare, where instead of focusing on the match, you’re frantically hopping between roles, trying to save the day.
And let’s be honest: if you’re not a die-hard Harry Potter fan, there’s nothing here for you. Even if you are a fan, this feels like a soulless take on the Wizarding World, boiling Quidditch down to its most unremarkable parts. Between the questionable voice acting, the overly childish animation, and a paper-thin campaign you can blitz through in about three hours, even the biggest Wizarding World enthusiasts will find it hard to stay engaged. This broomstick ride might be best left in the shed.
The first real blow that Quidditch Champions deals comes when you hit the international battleground of the Quidditch World Cup. The Quidditch World Cup aims to deliver a FIFA-like experience without the depth or customizability you’d expect from a wizarding world experience. Sure, there are broomstick upgrades, but they’re about as exciting as casting Lumos in broad daylight.
The jump from playing as a Hogwarts student to suddenly becoming an international quidditch star also felt a bit disjointed. The Quidditch World Cup expects players to pick a country and lead it to victory. It’s just so normal. Honestly, it put a muggle-shaped dampener on what was supposed to be a magical experience.
And after winning the cup? It’s back to square one. For a game about winning tournaments, I expected a bit more of a payoff for conquering the four available scenarios. But instead, it feels like completing yet another round as a Hogwarts student, only with less magic.
It’s at this moment that the hard truth of Quidditch Champions just couldn’t be ignored: at its core, Quidditch Champions is a nostalgic yet utterly forgettable experience that should have been a part of Hogwarts Legacy instead of a game trying to stand on its own.
To give the game props, each role, Seeker, Chaser, Beater, and Keeper, feels as distinct as a wizard’s wand, and each comes with its own unique controls. On-screen prompts also make switching positions mid-match smoother than a butterbeer, helping you find which role suits your playstyle best.
However, this clear distinction between roles also becomes the game’s undoing in multiplayer. Just a few matches in, and it was as evident as a Patronus in the dark that a meta had already been set in stone – or perhaps in spellbinding ink. And guess what? The Keeper position is about as popular as a cauldron full of badger soup.
With everyone chasing the thrill of being a Seeker, Chaser, or Beater, the poor Keeper is left by the goalposts, wondering if a Confundus Charm has hit them. Matchmaking becomes as tedious as cleaning up after a troll in the Hogwarts bathroom, and without any clear balancing between different skill levels, you’ll feel like you’ve been hit by a Bludger before the game even begins.
Stripped down to its basics, Harry Potter: Quidditch Champions is a sports game for only the most hardcore Potter fans, and in practice, it feels almost overwhelmingly average.
