Chapter 638: The Quidditch Match
Chapter 638: The Quidditch Match
Harry and the Slytherin team captain, Urquhart, glared at each other. As Harry turned back to his team, he winced in pain; his hand was nearly crushed.
"Listen to my whistle", Madam Hooch shouted, "three—two—one—"
Amidst a roar of cheers, the fourteen players soared into the sky. The weather, as they had seen on the Great Hall ceiling, was clear and bright, as if polished with a wet cloth. The keeper raced toward the goalposts, and the three chasers each took their positions.
Harry intercepted Perks and Gut, the two beaters, who were eagerly wielding their bats. He circled around and leaned in close, lowering his voice. "Don't forget the plan." Gut gave a thumbs-up, while Perks responded with a grunt.
Harry had met with them separately to discuss the strategy, instructing them to focus on the goalposts in the first few minutes of the game and use the Bludgers to support Ron if necessary. This was a beater's job, but this year's Gryffindor team was different. More than half were new, leading to an unstable overall performance. The most crucial positions on a team, besides the Seeker, were the Keeper and the Chasers.
Harry had privately noted that Ron's performance in practice and his success rate in previous matches were closely related.
Additionally, Harry had observed that Perks seemed to have a thing for Chaser Demelza Robins. Ron had once mocked Demelza's flying posture as "looking like a sleepwalking duck", and Harry was worried that Perks might bring his emotions onto the pitch.
"Remember, we're a team", Harry shouted, then flew away, leaving it to fate.
He glided through the sky like a hunting owl, flying higher and higher until he was just a black dot from the stands. He kept his back to the sun, straining to catch a glimpse of the Golden Snitch among the flashes of light from the telescopes below.
"Slytherin's Urquhart has the Quaffle", a dreamy voice drifted over the pitch. "He's the team captain, quite bulky, and his players are similar in build. I guess it's a special selection method—helpful in rough weather to keep the broom steady, though the weather is lovely today. I see the Giant Squid sunbathing on the ice—"
The spectators turned their gazes toward the Black Lake.
Sure enough, the commentator was Luna. Her outfit was no different from usual, her fluffy, pale yellow hair speckled with small, colorful stones that sparkled in the sunlight. On the table in front of her sat a lion-shaped hat, as large as a real lion's head. Harry knew it could produce a very realistic roar. Professor Mcgonagall, seated nearby, fidgeted restlessly, glancing at it every few seconds.
"Urquhart is launching an attack. He looks fierce, more intimidating than the last player who had the Quaffle—he seems broader in the back—"
"That was him last time!" Professor Mcgonagall called out loudly.
The crowd burst into laughter. Luna, bewildered, said, "Was it? I didn't recognize him, they all look alike—oh, look, Ginny has intercepted the Quaffle. I like her; she's very nice—three Slytherin players are closing in, and Ginny passes to Demelza, another petite girl. Gryffindor seems to have a tradition of selecting girls as Chasers, unlike Slytherin."
"Now it's Slytherin's turn with the Quaffle. They score, and Gryffindor's Keeper didn't stop it. Too bad, maybe the sun was in his eyes, but Ron looks a bit deflated—"
"Slytherin leads ten to zero!" Professor Mcgonagall shouted into Luna's microphone.
Harry's heart sank. He descended, seeing Ron standing expressionless, his back to the goalposts. Perks and Gut were close by, and a mass of fiery red hair—Ginny—shouted angrily at them, "What are you doing?" At that moment, a Bludger shot toward Harry. He ducked sharply, and the Bludger whizzed past his head. When he straightened up, he saw Gregory Goyle grinning wickedly, bat in hand.
Luna's ethereal commentary echoed through the stands again.
"Gryffindor's Seeker, Harry, has appeared. He was far away, perhaps adjusting his strategy—Gryffindor is playing very defensively, their beaters staying in their half, unwilling to come out." Luna said calmly, "We should be understanding; it's their first match, or maybe it's a strategy I can't see. I don't know much about Quidditch..."
The stands erupted in noisy laughter.
The disadvantage of lacking two beaters became apparent. The three Gryffindor girls were hesitant against the Slytherin Chasers, constantly on guard against the unpredictable Bludgers. Ginny had to abandon the Quaffle twice after snatching it.
The Slytherin players, led by their captain, organized an attack—“Hey? Gryffindor’s beater, Perks, is finally moving, away from their own goal. Could this be a welcome change?” Luna said, “But the other one is still circling around, acting as Ron’s bodyguard. Despite being only two-thirds Ron’s size, a wooden bat can still be quite intimidating without a wand—”
“Oh, look! Three Slytherin chasers have broken through the midfield. They’re constantly passing the Quaffle to each other. Are they unsure who should take the shot? This isn’t the time to hesitate—”
“Slytherin is using the Chipping Strategy,” Professor Mcgonagall interjected, explaining.
Harry tensed and lowered his broom, his heart racing. The Chipping Strategy involves a team’s three chasers simultaneously approaching the opposing goal, rapidly passing the Quaffle at high speed until the last moment, when the player with the best position takes the shot. This makes it difficult for the keeper to determine who will attack, leading to confusion and missed opportunities.
Ron’s face turned pale as his broom swayed between the three large hoops, indicating he was still indecisive. Beater Gut helplessly swatted at the air, unable to do anything. Suddenly—“Bang!” A loud noise echoed as a Bludger struck the back of a player in silver and green, causing him to tumble through the air.
It was Perks!
Harry had thought Perks had abandoned his orders to help Ginny and the others, but his powerful hit across the midfield changed the momentum. Ron finally made the right decision, lunging forward and, with a fifty-fifty chance, narrowly saved a shot by Urquhart. The crowd erupted in cheers.
“Great job!” Harry shouted. Ron’s face broke into a small smile, even though Harry’s praise was for Perks. “Counterattack!” Harry yelled. “Gut, show them what you’re made of!”
Gut’s face lit up with a bright smile. He caught the Bludger Perks had hit and aimed it at Urquhart. With a loud thud, Urquhart staggered on his broom, straightened up nonchalantly, and gave Gut a rude gesture before calling a time-out.
“Quite a hit,” Grindelwald said, lowering his telescope in the stands. Dumbledore smiled warmly at the pitch without saying a word.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and Harry and the others landed. The medical team checked the Slytherin player who had been hit on the back of the head. He kept shaking his head, looking dazed, as if he had a concussion. However, after Madam Pomfrey gave him a large vial of potion, he was able to return to the game.
The match became more intense. To put it politely, it was a no-holds-barred affair. More bluntly—
“The game has become less enjoyable,” Luna said regretfully. “The Slytherin players seem to have all developed a case of clinginess, sticking very close to their opponents. The Gryffindor girls aren’t used to it.” She seemed to genuinely believe this, and for the next ten minutes, she focused on more “interesting” things, like the oddly shaped clouds in the sky or the large banners in the stands depicting a silver and green Slytherin swallowing a lion whole.
“I didn’t see the bulge in the snake’s belly,” Luna said seriously. Professor Mcgonagall, standing nearby, scowled, her fingers curling and uncurling as if she wanted to snatch the microphone from Luna.
Harry wasn’t interested in the banners.
He continuously circled above the pitch, occasionally catching a glimpse of Draco Malfoy’s gleaming scalp in the sunlight. Draco had adopted a strategy opposite to Harry’s, skimming low over the grass. Both methods had their pros and cons. If Draco happened to spot the Golden Snitch nearby, the game would be over without a doubt, but his search efficiency was clearly not as good as Harry’s. However, past matches had shown that when Harry was in top form, he always spotted the Snitch first.
But this was Harry’s first time as captain, and he couldn’t help but focus on his team’s players.
On the pitch, Slytherin’s chaser Warrington, using his size to his advantage, continually blocked Ginny’s view. The other two players had pinned down Demelza, making her look like a small tomato trapped between two large, fat cabbages. They charged straight for the ground, and despite Demelza’s desperate attempts to break free, she was about to crash when Gut used a Bludger to rescue her.
This was a style and tactic Slytherin excelled at, more closely resembling the primitive form of Quidditch—airborne collisions, similar to medieval jousting, with the sole aim of knocking as many players off their brooms as possible, leaving the last one standing as the winner. Wood, when he was still around, used to tell the players this to mock the Slytherin team’s outdated mindset.
Later, Harry found a detailed version in the book Quidditch Through the Ages.
“Sometimes it does work,” Wood admitted, recognizing the merit in Slytherin’s tactics: “Genius players are rare, but an average player with an exaggerated physique can easily dominate—except for Seekers, who are generally frail.” He reassured Harry.
On the pitch, the commentary stand had been silent for five minutes because today’s commentator seemed to be lost in her own world. However, when the stands suddenly erupted in intense shouts, Luna finally remembered her duty.
“Katie has the Quaffle now; she’s an experienced player,” she said cheerfully. “The three Slytherin Chasers are busy committing fouls, leaving a clear path ahead, as long as she’s careful not to be hit by a Bludger—oh, wow,” she exclaimed, her eyes widening even more. “Katie’s teammates have cleared the way for her, and she’s facing the Slytherin Keeper directly—sorry, I forgot his name—”
Professor Mcgonagall snatched the microphone angrily, about to say something, but Luna suddenly widened her eyes. “Look!”
The crowd gasped.
Katie Bell seemed to make a mistake she shouldn’t have. She had been diving with the Quaffle, and the opposing Keeper was staring intently at her, trying to read her moves. However, he faced the same dilemma as Ron—the opponent was too fast, and by the time her true intention was clear, it would be too late. He could only guess a general direction and dash out, leaving the goalposts wide open.
At this moment, if Katie suddenly changed direction—this would be easy since she weighed only half as much as her opponent—she would have an unguarded goal. But Katie did the opposite, lightly tossing the Quaffle as if afraid it might not be caught.
The Keeper easily caught the ball. He was stunned, unable to believe his good luck.
The stands erupted in a loud sigh and booing.
Madam Hooch, the referee, put the silver whistle in her mouth, ready to blow, but she changed her mind—“Harry!” Katie shouted.
Harry followed her gaze and saw a small golden ball hovering in the center of the Slytherin goalposts.
A surge of joy flooded him. His broom accelerated rapidly, and everything on the pitch seemed to slow down in his eyes: Draco had just turned his head back, a smile on his face, seemingly pleased by the opponent’s major mistake; the Slytherin Keeper was celebrating with the Quaffle, even waving his fist in front of Katie Bell—this was the moment, Harry thought, diving like a golden-red javelin, skimming past the Keeper’s head—Harry could even see his bared molars. Then, he reached out his hand.
Got it! Harry spun in the air, barely stopping in front of the goalposts. He raised his arms, and the long, narrow wings of the Golden Snitch poked out between his fingers.
The stands were stunned for two seconds, but Luna was the first to react, perhaps because she didn’t find anything odd about it. In the silence, she ended the game with the clearest voice of the match.
“Harry has caught the Golden Snitch; the game is over.”
Enthusiastic fans unfurled beautiful flags from all corners, turning the stands into a sea of scarlet. Cheers echoed in the cold sky, mingled with the angry roars and groans of the Slytherins. Slytherin’s captain, Urquhart, rushed over to Madam Hooch, shouting accusations of cheating against Gryffindor, but even the strictest referee couldn’t find any fault. Trading ten points for one hundred and fifty was a fantastic deal.
“Katie Bell—Katie Bell—Katie Bell—”
For the first time, when Harry caught the Golden Snitch, people were enthusiastically cheering for another player. But Harry felt no jealousy. He eagerly jumped off his broom, tightly hugging Katie Bell, and joined the crowd in shouting her name. More players rushed down to join them.
A small incident occurred.
Luna, unnoticed by Professor Mcgonagall, secretly put on her lion’s head hat. The lion’s roar, amplified by the commentary microphone, reverberated through the stands, dazing everyone and leaving them with blank, confused looks. Harry saw Professor Mcgonagall’s face elongate, her mouth opening and closing, but he couldn’t hear a sound, suspecting temporary deafness.
Among the crowd, there were clever people. Someone pulled out their wand and shot fireworks into the sky, quickly followed by many others.
Ginny’s fiery red hair danced in front of him, her face flushed like an inviting fruit pie. Harry couldn’t resist the urge and kissed her.
Ginny was initially surprised but then responded enthusiastically.
(End of Chapter)
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