"... the Gryffindor defenders played brilliantly. [] Johansson took control of the Quaffle again, and she flew into the empty space ahead-she really did, dodging the speeding Bludger... Spinnet's headed for the Quaffle-she's quite good-looking, to be honest-I'm sorry, Professor... Slytherin scores..."
The weather was clear and cold, Li. Jordan's passionate commentary hovered over the Quidditch field.
Harry looked around on his broomstick for the Snitch. In the noisy stands, Neville and the others were holding a shining flag that read," Potter will win." They looked at him nervously and excitedly, cheering him on.
As he locked his mind on the Snitch, Harry made two quick turns, dodged the Bludger flying toward him, and reached out at an angle where no one could see him, grasping the Snitch in the palm of his hand.
As he flew around the field, he thought casually.
What should he do next?
Hand over the Snitch before Quirrell does anything to him, end the match, and save their Potions professor the money to buy new robes?
How boring would that be!
Snape was always thinking about how James had saved his life, so he wanted to give him a chance to return the favor. Besides, cursed broomsticks must be very, very,
Narrowing his eyes in anticipation, he recalled the experience of taming a fierce horse in the past. Because his true essence was sealed by the old man, he could only rely on his skills and will to persevere. That process, tsk tsk, was simply soul-stirring and memorable.
Since he had nothing to do anyway, he might as well let him experience it again-by the way, why hadn't Quirrell done anything after all this time?
said Harry, a little disgruntled, glancing sideways at the conspicuous purple head in the stands.
A few minutes later, when Gryffindor was sixty points ahead of Slytherin, Harry's broom gave a great shudder and began to twist wildly beyond his control. His left hand was still holding the Snitch, but he could barely hold onto the broom handle. His right hand was still holding on to the broom, and he could feel it desperately resisting, trying to throw him off.
The broomstick lifted him higher and higher and began to spin rapidly, and after several three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turns he felt dizzy.
Ugh…I feel like vomiting…
As the world spun around him, Harry began to regret it.
The eyes of the entire audience were focused on him. Many students stood up and shouted in panic. The rest of the Gryffindor team, except for the Keeper, flew up to him, eager to get close. Harry's broom, however, went on a rampage and almost knocked people off several times.
Harry could feel Hermione's breath moving rapidly toward Snape, and thinking that it was finally over and that he wouldn't be playing again, Professor, he suddenly accelerated his broom toward a Bludger.
He let go of his right hand helplessly and bent down to brush past the Bludger.
If he could still grab the broom at this time, that would be too fake, right?
His left hand, which was still holding the Snitch, was quickly flung off the broom. Harry fought back the urge to unleash his flying sword and fell toward the ground with a scream.
Forget it, I'll just treat it as bungee jumping.
Quirrell, you'll see, I'm not going to be called Harry until I kill you? Potter!
He seemed to have forgotten that he was the one who insisted on experiencing this curse.
Sigh, there were so many people at the scene. They couldn't really let him fall to his death, right?
He didn't know how many people had used Levitation Charms on him, but he felt himself falling slower and slower. He came to a sudden stop more than a metre above the ground, and then fell with a thud.
Bah, unlucky!
Dispelling the weed in his mouth, Harry felt more depressed than ever.
If he did not give others a chance to frame him, he would simply be asking for a beating. What was wrong with him to think of such a stupid idea?
Harry was sweating profusely as he knelt on the grass, his left hand on the ground and his right hand on his chest, gasping for breath.
There were many people running toward them from the stands, and Professor McGonagall was at the front of the pack. She picked Harry up shakily and asked anxiously,"Harry-are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Harry pulled her to his feet by the hand, his legs shaking slightly. Seeing Professor McGonagall's pale face and her usual composure, he felt a little guilty.
Professor McGonagall looked him up and down before she was relieved." Then, for the time being, this match-"
" Wait." Harry looked up, smiled weakly at her, and held out his left hand.
"We won."
Madam Hooch, the referee, looked at him in surprise and blew the whistle to end the game. The Quidditch field erupted into deafening cheers as Jordan announced the result loudly and happily.
The Gryffindors landed on the ground, and Harry was about to go over and hug them when he was startled by the dark look on their faces.
"H-L-L-P-T-" Wood threw away his broom, rushed to him, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him up.
Harry looked at his horribly contorted face, wondering what he was so angry about.
"What…what's wrong?"
" You idiot!" Wood shouted loudly in his ear," Do you know how dangerous it was just now?! You almost fell to your death, do you know that?!”
"But... but it was because of my broomstick..." He looked around him for help, but everyone around him looked at him unkindly and showed no sign of wanting to help.
You asked for it! They told him with their eyes.
What did I do? Harry's little face was scrunched up like a bulging bun.
Wood, his nostrils smoking, took a deep breath and pushed him away. Harry staggered backward, barely managing to steady himself.
"I don't care what's wrong with that damned broom, you're going to die and you're holding on to the Snitch instead of the broom! Are you out of your mind?" Wood waved his hands, wishing he could kill this idiot who did not understand the situation.
What?
His mouth opened wide in shock. Harry finally understood what was wrong with this guy, and suddenly felt his nose sour.
Was this the captain who only wanted to win the game? Wasn't it his biggest dream to win the Quidditch Cup? It turned out that in their hearts, his safety was already so important?
Aiyaya, it's all his fault. He was so busy playing that he didn't think about whether others would worry about him. Sigh…
"I was wrong…"
Harry's head was drooping, his index fingers pointing at each other. From time to time, he would look up and steal a glance at them. His green eyes sparkled like a cute dog abandoned by its owner.
The girls were so motherly that they wanted to pounce on him and hug him.
Wood's gesture paused, as if he wanted to say something. Poppy? Madam Pomfrey hurried up to him and said,"That's enough, Wood. This child has been greatly frightened. I'm going to take him to the infirmary for a check-up.”
Uh, the infirmary?
Harry stepped back imperceptibly and said with a hollow laugh,"Madam Pomfrey, that won't be necessary? I feel very good now."
Madam Pomfrey gave him a stern look and said,"Potter, it's up to me to decide.”
They're all so mean... Harry shrank back and tried to slip away.
The twins seized him by the shoulders and pulled him over to Madam Pomfrey. George grinned."Let's go with him."
Harry leapt into the air and yelled,"George! Fred! Put me down!"
Bullying him for not being tall enough?
George and Fred carried him effortlessly and followed Madam Pomfrey back to the infirmary.
"Be good, Harry,"
"Ask Madam Pomfrey to give you a tranquilizer later, poor boy, you must be terrified.”
"Ah-! I don't want to drink bitter medicine! Put me down, put me down!"
"Well, Harry, Calming Potions are definitely not bitter.”
"Liar!"
"Really, George didn't lie to you, Madam Pomfrey's Calming Potion had all sorts of sweet, sour, and spicy flavors mixed together, but no bitterness.”
"…No! Neville-Ron-help-"
"Silently…"
The world was finally quiet.
The spectators who were left behind were speechless. They had just experienced the most chaotic match in the history of Hogwarts. The Gryffindor team, who had won the match, had a worse expression than Slytherin. In the end, they could only watch as Gryffindor's little hero, who had just made a contribution, was kidnapped and taken to the infirmary to be drugged. Everyone felt a little dizzy and could not react.
"Stupid Gryffindor!"
The Potionology professor, whose robe had a big hole in it, sneered. He glanced at Hermione and turned to leave. --
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