Chapter 402: A Bunch of Nonsense
Chapter 402: A Bunch of Nonsense
As eleven o'clock approached, the students and faculty of Hogwarts began to make their way to the Quidditch stadium.
Upon arriving at the stadium, Lee Jordan parted ways with Albert and the others, heading directly to the commentator's booth where he would be providing commentary for the match under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall.
"Let's go find a spot too," said Hannah, turning to Albert.
The two made their way towards the section where the Gryffindor students were gathering, intending to choose an empty seat. As they looked up, they noticed a group of students at the highest row attempting to hang a bedsheet banner that read, "Potter Must Win."
"Looks like our savior has his own supporters," Albert remarked with a smile.
"Must be Potter's roommates. That lion painting is quite good," Hannah said, lifting her binoculars to examine the shimmering colors on the banner. "Gryffindor might have another genius in its midst."
Hannah didn't recognize any of the older students, which implied that the banner was likely the work of first-year students. Aside from Albert, it was unlikely that anyone else in their year could have created something of that caliber within a few months.
"It's passable," Albert said, drawing his wand from his robe pocket and pointing it at the banner. He cast a spell that caused the lion to roar fiercely.
"Much better, don't you think?" Albert winked at Hannah as if proud of his mischievous deed.
"You scared them," Hannah said, covering her mouth to suppress a giggle as she saw the startled reactions of the students who had been startled by the lion's roar.
"What's going on? How did they do that?" Ron looked up at the banner, which let out an occasional lion's roar, and turned to Hermione in astonishment.
He wasn't the only one; Harry's other roommates also looked at Hermione with equal parts surprise.
"I didn't do it," Hermione said, equally puzzled by what was happening.
Amid the lion's roars, the Quidditch players from both teams took to the field, and Madam Hooch blew her silver whistle loudly, signaling the start of the match.
After what felt like an eternity, Angelina scored the first goal for Gryffindor amid the cheers of her housemates and the angry roars of the Slytherins.
Gryffindor's early lead, however, set a less-than-friendly tone for the rest of the game.
Such an intense atmosphere was not uncommon during the annual Quidditch matches; there were always a few games that got a little too heated.
This year, Gryffindor was at a disadvantage as their Beaters were girls, which made it difficult for them to physically intimidate the opposing team. Fred and George's efforts alone were not enough.
The Slytherin team quickly made up for their initial disadvantage and began to pull ahead in the score.
Albert was not surprised in the least. Sometimes, you had to fight fire with fire. If you couldn't dominate your opponent with sheer strength, you had to resort to underhanded methods.
Gryffindor was neither able to overpower the Slytherins nor willing to stoop to their level, so they found themselves at the receiving end of the Slytherins' dirty tactics.
In the midst of the angry roars from the Gryffindor students, Albert pulled out his communication bookmark, glanced at the message, and got up to walk to the side. The angry Gryffindors, consumed by their frustration over the Slytherins' unsportsmanlike conduct, didn't notice Albert's discreet departure.
In a secluded corner where hardly anyone was present, Albert found Isabelle observing the game through a pair of binoculars.
He walked over and sat down next to her, smiling as he asked, "Do you think Gryffindor will win?"
"I heard that you predicted Harry Potter would catch the Golden Snitch and win the game for Gryffindor," Isabelle replied, lowering her binoculars and looking at Albert with a gentle smile. "They believe in what you say."
"People need something to believe in, you know. Sometimes, confidence is all it takes to bring out the best in them, and I can give them that confidence," Albert said, taking Isabelle's hand in his and gently caressing her palm. "Don't you feel more confident than before?"
Isabelle rolled her eyes at Albert, unable to hide her amusement.
"If it's an easy and effective way to boost morale, why not?" Albert smiled as he lifted the binoculars hanging around his neck to scan the skies for Harry Potter.
The savior was flying high in the air, searching for the elusive Golden Snitch.
In truth, flying at such altitudes served the purpose of keeping Harry safe from the Slytherins. Ever since Albert's warning, Wood had been extra cautious about protecting Harry, as he had put it, "We don't want you getting attacked too soon."
Indeed, it turned out to be a wise decision.
After all, being Harry's first Quidditch match, he had no idea what dirty tricks the Slytherin team would employ to secure victory.
"You always have a bunch of excuses up your sleeve." Isabelle held Albert's hand in hers and replied gently, "But you're right, some methods can effectively boost morale. I heard you placed a hefty bet on Harry Potter catching the Golden Snitch and winning the game for Gryffindor?"
"It's not a hefty bet." Albert corrected, "Just ten Galleons."
"Gambling isn't a good habit." Isabelle reminded him with good intentions.
"I rarely do anything without a sure thing, so I rarely lose." Albert shrugged.
"But I still don't want you to gamble on certain things." Isabelle looked into Albert's eyes and said seriously, "Some things are too important to gamble with, no matter how small the odds of losing are."
"Okay, I promise. You know me, I value my life more than anything." Albert knew what Isabelle meant by gambling.
True gamblers weren't referring to these so-called small bets, but rather the daring wagers they made on other matters, where losing once could mean losing everything.
As the two spoke, the Quidditch pitch high above underwent some changes. Harry, having just dodged a Bludger, was now diving at high speed, chasing after a trail of golden light.
That's right, Harry Potter had spotted the Golden Snitch.
As Harry dived, the entire Quidditch stadium suddenly fell silent, and everyone took note of the Golden Snitch, standing up to witness the imminent Snitch-catching contest.
The Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgins, had apparently also spotted it, and he was even closer than Harry. However, Harry's Nimbus 2000 broom gave him an advantage, and he had already caught up, the two of them flying side by side in pursuit of the Snitch.
At that moment, everyone stopped what they were doing, and the players seemed to forget their own tasks, hovering in mid-air, their eyes fixed on the impending Golden Snitch dispute.
The moment a Seeker caught the Snitch, the game would be over.
The speed of Harry's Nimbus 2000 was faster than Higgins' Cleansweep Seven, and just as Harry accelerated and reached out to grab the Snitch, securing victory for Gryffindor, the unexpected happened.
"Bang!" Harry felt someone ram into him forcefully, causing his broom to veer sideways.
It was Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, who had deliberately collided with Harry to prevent him from catching the Snitch.
"Foul!"
Amid the angry roars of the Gryffindors, Madam Hooch blew her silver whistle to halt the game. She flew over angrily and gave Flint an earful, berating him severely.
However, the latter wore a triumphant smile, as the game's pause meant the Snitch had disappeared from view, and Gryffindor had lost their chance at victory.
The Gryffindor team glared at Flint, wishing they could tear him limb from limb.
However, as the angry students regained their senses, they suddenly realized what had just transpired and began throwing objects onto the pitch. Some even drew their wands and cast nasty hexes at Flint to express their protest and dissatisfaction.
"They seem... a bit worked up." Isabelle raised an eyebrow.
"Because they all bet on Harry catching the Snitch and winning the game, and Flint's move undoubtedly made their soon-to-be-won Galleons slip through their fingers." Albert said with a mischievous smile, "Nothing enrages people more than having their hard-earned Galleons slip away at the last moment."
"And you're not angry?" Isabelle looked Albert up and down and asked in return, "I recall you placed a bet as well."
"Unless something unexpected happens, Harry should be able to catch the Snitch. His Nimbus 2000 is clearly faster than Higgins' Cleansweep Seven, and Harry's skills are no joke either. As the savior, he's bound to have good luck on his side, so I don't think he'll lose."
"What kind of warped logic is that!" Isabelle couldn't help but cover her mouth and laugh.
(End of Chapter)
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