Although no one believed Harry was trying to take on the entire Slytherin team by himself, they were all on high alert.
Harry locked onto a target and dived down once again.
Since a surprise attack wouldn't work, he decided to go in head-on!
However, his opponent was prepared this time. Just as they were about to collide, he dodged and then cunningly caught up to Harry, positioning himself shoulder to shoulder. Given his physique, if they crashed directly, he would have the upper hand.
The spectators quickly realized his intentions and couldn't help but worry for Harry.
The Slytherin player feinted outward, then forcefully slammed his body into Harry. But just as he was about to make contact—Harry disappeared!
In the split second that his opponent leaned outward to build momentum, Harry had already dropped below him, flying directly underneath. As the Slytherin player lunged at the space Harry had just occupied, Harry took advantage of the opening, shot upward, and sharply angled his shoulder—sending the Slytherin player flying.
The Slytherin substitute lost his balance and tumbled off his broom. In a panic, he flailed his arms wildly, desperately trying to grab onto something. His eyes widened in shock as he saw Harry speeding toward him.
Was Harry coming to save him? He smirked viciously—if Harry reached out, he'd grab him and drag him down together!
But to his horror, Harry wasn't reaching out a hand—he was raising his foot.
Harry expertly matched the Slytherin player's falling speed, then in one swift motion, lifted his right foot and stomped down—
BOOM!
The Slytherin player's body crumpled midair like a crushed flower, a tragic sight to behold.
A cloud of dust burst into the air as he crashed into the ground.
Moments later, Madam Pomfrey hurried over to take him away for treatment.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle once again, her frustration evident. But the Slytherins were absolutely livid—they were practically fuming with rage.
The Slytherin team originally had seven players. Now, three had been sent to the hospital wing, leaving only four. Aside from the Keeper and the Seeker, that left only two active players.
How were they even supposed to keep playing?! This was just bullying!
Even the Gryffindor team hadn't expected things to turn out like this. Watching their opponents get eliminated one by one, they started feeling a little sympathetic.
"We swear we weren't trying to bully you..."
But what was truly bizarre was that when Harry knocked out the third Slytherin player, a massive cheer erupted from the crowd—almost as if Harry's takedowns were even more exciting than scoring goals.
It seemed that Merlin's words were right after all:
"Every person has a beast within them."
The last two remaining Slytherin players exchanged a determined glance.
They had one goal now:
Take Harry out!
The moment the match resumed, they both charged straight for him, completely ignoring the game.
And so, an absolutely absurd scene unfolded in the stadium—
Two green-clad Slytherins desperately chasing after Harry in the sky, while the Gryffindor team continuously scored goal after goal.
The Slytherin Keeper was practically running himself ragged, jumping up and down trying to block the shots. But in front of him stood a wall of grinning Gryffindors, all eyeing him like a pack of hungry wolves.
"Even if I were the best Keeper in the world," he thought in despair, "I don't have a damn cloning spell!"
He was absolutely exhausted…
Meanwhile, Jordan was practically foaming at the mouth as he shouted into the mic:
"GRYFFINDOR SCORES! GRYFFINDOR SCORES AGAIN! GRYFFINDOR SCORES YET AGAIN!!"
High up in the air, George Weasley lazily hovered on his broom.
"Should we help Harry?" he asked, watching his teammate singlehandedly evade two furious Slytherins.
Fred smirked, casually passing the Quaffle to Wood.
"Do you really think Harry needs our help?"
George pondered it for a moment, recalling the insane training sessions they had with Harry.
He shook his head.
"Nope."
Higgins watched as his team's Keeper was being toyed with like a plaything, swallowing nervously, unsure of what to do.
Should he help the Keeper?
Forget it. What could I even do on my own?
Should he help the two teammates chasing Harry?
That wouldn't change a thing either… This match is lost anyway.
No—the only way to win this game was simple:
Find the Golden Snitch and end it.
That was their only hope.
If he took too long, even 150 points wouldn't be enough to secure victory.
Just as he was thinking this—
A soft buzzing noise echoed in his ears.
The Golden Snitch had appeared!
Higgins was so overwhelmed he nearly cried with joy.
The tiny golden ball hovered right in front of him.
He reached out for it—but it darted away!
He chased after it.
It sped up.
He pushed his broom to the limit—the Snitch matched his speed.
It was almost as if the Snitch was toying with him.
At this moment, Higgins had only one goal in mind—he had to catch it.
He zigzagged through the sky, drawing complex curves as he pursued the Snitch with everything he had.
Under normal circumstances, this should have been the highlight of the match—
But—
BANG!
BANG!
Two heavy thuds echoed across the stadium.
A sound everyone recognized.
Two more Slytherin players had hit the ground.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Watching players crash was way more fun than scoring goals—except for Slytherin, of course.
Several girls' faces turned bright red, their bodies heating up as they stared at Harry with admiring eyes.
"Who else can challenge him now?"
Harry soared high above the pitch, gazing into the sky at a 45-degree angle.
Everyone below watched, drawn to the lonely silhouette in the sky.
A wave of solitude washed over Harry.
The loneliness of being invincible.
"Life… is like snow…" he mused.
Finally, Harry spotted the Snitch—still being chased by Higgins.
"So, you're finally showing yourself, huh?"
Harry charged straight toward him.
Suddenly, he shouted across the field—
"George! The bat!"
"Oh—OH!" George quickly snapped out of his daze.
Just as their paths crossed, he tossed his Beater's bat to Harry.
Harry surged forward.
Higgins froze—his eyes locked onto Harry, who was now gripping a bat and looking deadly serious.
"Wait… he's not going to—hit me, is he?"
"No way. No one would actually use a bat to attack someone in a match."
"That wouldn't be Quidditch anymore—it'd be a full-on brawl!"
"No, no—he's just trying to scare me."
"Hah! Nice try, Potter—I see right through you!"
"You won't intimidate me!"
Higgins steeled his resolve and charged forward—completely unafraid.
"I'm going to be a hero."
"Once I catch the Golden Snitch, I'll be Slytherin's savior!"
"All the girls will admire me!"
Higgins was lost in his grand fantasy, convinced that victory was his.
Harry, on the other hand, was puzzled.
"Why the hell is this guy still smiling at a time like this? Does he have a screw loose?"
"Whatever—I wonder if my batting skills have gotten rusty?"
The two raced straight toward each other, the Golden Snitch hovering right between them.
Harry raised the Beater's bat high—and in that split-second moment of fate—
SWUNG WITH ALL HIS STRENGTH.
THUNK!
The bat struck the Golden Snitch perfectly, sending it ricocheting off…
—straight into Higgins' ugly face.
CRACK.
A crisp snapping sound echoed.
Harry watched as the Snitch slammed into Higgins' nose, shattering the bridge of his nose instantly.
Blood gushed out like a fountain.
Just looking at it made Harry's own nose ache.
"Damn, dude… That must've hurt."
"But hey, I totally didn't do it on purpose. You believe me, right?"
"I mean, I believe me!"
A sharp, indescribable pain shot through Higgins' head. His eyes teared up uncontrollably, and he didn't even realize he was plummeting downward.
"M-Mom… it hurts…!"
Harry felt a little guilty—but then again…
"He should be fine, right? Yeah, he'll be fine."
After all, Harry himself once lost all the bones in his arm, and Madam Pomfrey grew them back in no time.
Maybe this was actually a blessing in disguise.
Who knows—maybe this will give Higgins a perfectly sculpted high nose bridge.
"He might even thank me for it!"
"And even if he hates me, who cares? I'm a man of justice—I don't need recognition to do what's right!"
"AWWWOOOOOOOO!!!"
Some student in the crowd let out a loud wolf howl—and soon, other boys joined in.
Were they… crowning Harry as their Alpha?
The Golden Snitch wobbled in midair, completely stunned from the hit.
Harry snatched it out of the air effortlessly.
The stadium ERUPTED.
Every single person stood up and ROARED in excitement.
This was, without a doubt, the most legendary Quidditch match ever.
Harry looked toward the last standing Slytherin player—the Keeper.
The poor guy instantly covered his nose, terrified.
George grinned and shouted into the megaphone:
"AND THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH—GRYFFINDOR!"
"YAAAAAHHHH!!!"
Gryffindor students exploded with joy, waving their flags wildly.
Harry sighed.
"Damn. I was so close to a full sweep."
Author's Note (Luo Bei):
I need bookmarks! I need recommendation votes!
Thank you!
The Olympics are over, school's starting soon—are you excited?
My bookmark count hasn't really changed… does that mean it's just the same readers here every time?
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