Chapter 750: Inflicting Great Damage
Chapter 750: Inflicting Great Damage
On the day of the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match, Harry's Firebolt broom finally made its official appearance in the Great Hall, becoming the center of attention and drawing a large crowd.
The Slytherin team members wore grim expressions. Having the Firebolt felt like a thorn in their sides, and Potter was that thorn. If Gryffindor won against Ravenclaw today, it would be a serious threat to Slytherin's chances of winning the Quidditch Cup.
"Potter, I've got some good news for you!"
Harry remained silent, pretending not to hear Malfoy.
"That Hippogriff that attacked me is as good as dead."
Malfoy pulled a letter out of his pocket in front of everyone, flashing a malicious grin at Harry. "Yesterday, my father received an owl from his friend on the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. They told him that the Hippogriff that attacked me has a very high probability of being sentenced to death."
"Get lost, Malfoy," Ron interjected, standing between Harry and Malfoy. He glared at the despicable Malfoy, barely restraining himself from throwing a punch. "Harry, ignore him. He's just jealous that you have the Firebolt, and he's trying to get under your skin."
"Jealous? Why would I be jealous of you, a filthy little beggar?" Malfoy sneered haughtily at Ron.
"Just ignore him," Harry said, holding Ron back. He looked at Malfoy with disgust, as if he were a pile of dung. "Go away, Malfoy. Talking to you makes me sick."
A cold smile played at Malfoy's lips, and his eyes glinted with malicious intent. He reached for the Firebolt on the table but was stopped by a group of people.
"That's a fine broom you have there. It's a shame you don't have a parachute to go with it. Then you wouldn't have to worry about falling off again," Malfoy retracted his arm and continued sarcastically. "By the way, I read the last issue of the newspaper. So, you're one of those pitiful souls susceptible to Dementors, aren't you?"
"It was a pity about the last Quidditch match. If you had one more arm, you might have caught the Snitch, and then Ravenclaw wouldn't have had a chance to come back. All thanks to your help, of course," Harry retorted without missing a beat. "Allow me to express my gratitude on behalf of Gryffindor House for your invaluable assistance."
"Thanks to your help!" George chimed in with a laugh.
"Thank you for your selflessness, Mr. Malfoy," Ron said, slapping Malfoy's shoulder forcefully, his tone filled with thinly veiled satisfaction.
"Yes, thank you for your help. Otherwise, we really wouldn't have stood a chance," a group of Gryffindors who had been watching the confrontation surrounded Malfoy, expressing their gratitude.
However, Mr. Malfoy, surrounded by grateful students, wore an unhappy expression.
There was no doubt that this incident was one of Malfoy's most hated memories.
In the previous match against Ravenclaw, the Slytherin team had held a strong advantage.
Their captain, Marcus, had proposed a bold plan to try and crush Gryffindor before they even started.
If the plan succeeded, the Firebolt wouldn't have been a threat.
The plan went smoothly, and even before catching the Snitch, Slytherin had already established a formidable lead of 160 points over Ravenclaw.
Catching the Snitch would have ensured their victory with an almost insurmountable score, leaving Gryffindor utterly hopeless, even if they lost their last game.
But Marcus's plan failed due to Malfoy's negligence, allowing Ravenclaw's Seeker, Cho Chang, to seize the opportunity and catch the Snitch first.
And Potter, by bringing up this incident, was pouring salt on Malfoy's wound.
Malfoy, nearly driven mad with rage, pushed his way through the crowd and hurried out of the Great Hall amid the laughter of the students.
"Don't mind that clown, Harry," Wood said, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "All we need to do now is win this game and then beat Slytherin in the next one. We'll crush them and show those snobs that they can't always be on top."
Harry nodded, but Malfoy's words still affected him. The thought of Buckbeak possibly being sentenced to death cast a shadow over his expression.
"Do you want to go take a look at the Firebolt?" Albert, who had witnessed the conflict, turned to Isabelle.
"No, I think I'll pass," Isabelle shook her head, showing a lack of interest in the broom. "Who do you think will win?"
"Potter has a higher chance," Albert replied without hesitation. "Although Cho Chang is a good Seeker, it's not about skill anymore. It's about the quality of the broom."
"It's not fair to have such a broom in the competition," Penelope said indignantly.
"You can't expect everyone to use the same broom," Percy said, greeting Albert with a nod.
"I think everyone should use the same broom, so we can truly see the players' skills," Albert said, feeling that the current Quidditch matches were unfair. Slytherin had been dominating solely because of their Nimbus 2001 brooms, and now Harry's Firebolt gave him a similar advantage.
"Quidditch has always been like this. You can't expect it to change easily," Percy shook his head, knowing that Albert had a point but also aware of the challenges of implementing such a change.
"By the way, who do you think will win?" Percy asked in a low voice.
"Gryffindor has a higher chance of winning," Albert pointed to the Firebolt on display. "After all, Potter has the Firebolt, which is a huge advantage for a Seeker. That's why Slytherin is trying to provoke him; they want to mess with his mindset."
"No, that's not what I meant!" Percy whispered. "Didn't you make a prediction?"
"I can't predict everything," Albert said, a bit exasperated. "You should have more faith in our team."
Percy pulled Albert aside and said anxiously in a low voice, "I made a bet with Penelope, and if I lose, I don't have ten Galleons to give her."
Albert asked, "If you win, do you really intend to ask her for ten Galleons?"
Percy fell silent.
"Why bet money at all? Why not bet for ten kisses or offer to pay for the next date you two have in Hogsmeade?" Albert felt that betting money with your girlfriend would only result in a loss, regardless of the outcome. The loser would have to pay up, but even the winner would ultimately lose.
"You're right. Why didn't I think of that?" Percy lowered his head in regret. "Do you think I'd really ask Penelope for ten Galleons if I won?"
Hearing Albert's words, Percy felt there might still be a way to salvage the situation if he won. As for whether Gryffindor could win, Percy couldn't think of a reason why they wouldn't.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
