For Lucian Bole hitting Alicia with his bat, and George Weasley retaliating against Lucian Bole with his elbow, Madam Hooch didn't hesitate to award penalty shots to both sides.
Wood once again demonstrated first-rate Keeper skills, completing another spectacular save at this critical moment.
"If this were a football match, so many players would have been sent off by now that the game couldn't continue," Hermione said helplessly from the stands, watching the chaotic scene. "They're just too rough."
"Come on, Hermione, this isn't some Muggle sport!" Ron, coming from a wizarding family, didn't care at all. He waved his arms excitedly.
"There's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! Compared to those professional players, this little scene is nothing."
"Fine... I guess I'm just ignorant."
"Speaking of which, I don't understand why the game can't continue after people are sent off," Ron asked curiously. "Last time watching a match at Sherlock's house, when someone from the Red Bull team fouled and left, there were substitute players to replace them!"
"Red Bull team?" Hermione was stunned. 'What match were you watching?'
Dean, who liked basketball, was quick to react. "Ron, you must mean the Bulls, right?"
"Right, right, the Bulls, not Red Bull!"
Seamus sighed. "Ron, basketball and football are different.
In basketball, each side only has five players. After someone is sent off, of course they have to substitute someone in, otherwise how can four play against five?
But in football, each side has eleven players. If someone is sent off with a red card, they have to continue playing with one person fewer."
Dean continued. "If one side is reduced to only seven players, the match is automatically forfeited."
"Sounds really complicated," Ron said with a frown. "Quidditch matches are much simpler."
Neville beside him nodded repeatedly. "Yeah, yeah, exactly."
"Sherlock, you don't seem nervous?" Hermione noticed Sherlock appeared detached and unconcerned with their conversation. "Aren't you worried?"
"Worried?" Sherlock smiled and shook his head. "With Harry's flying skills, plus the Firebolt's speed...
Unless he does it deliberately, no one else could possibly catch up to him."
"So that means..."
Hearing Sherlock's words, Hermione's eyes suddenly brightened.
She saw Harry flying intently toward the Slytherin end, with Malfoy following closely behind.
According to Sherlock's explanation, Harry was clearly fishing!
Harry was indeed fishing.
Not long ago, he had spotted the Golden Snitch.
That mischievous little thing was glinting below one of Gryffindor's goal posts.
But the score hadn't yet opened up by more than fifty points, so he couldn't catch the Golden Snitch.
Not only could he not catch it, he couldn't let Malfoy catch it either.
So, the best approach was simply to prevent him from noticing the Golden Snitch.
Thinking of what Cho Chang had done to him in the last match, Harry's brow furrowed as a plan formed.
He suddenly assumed an intensely focused expression and sharply turned the Firebolt, charging rapidly toward the Slytherin end.
Malfoy followed with almost no hesitation.
Just as Harry had thought, Malfoy's thinking was exactly the same as Cho Chang's.
Watching such a large person was always easier than watching the tiny Golden Snitch.
Moreover, Malfoy had already been burned in the match against Ravenclaw.
The Comet 260's performance couldn't match his Nimbus 2001, and even with Cho Chang getting a head start, he hadn't been able to catch the Golden Snitch.
Now if Harry and his Firebolt got the advantage, he definitely couldn't catch up.
So, without a second thought, he followed.
Not just Malfoy—the other Slytherins fell for it too.
Actually, you couldn't really call it falling for it. When you charged single-handedly toward their end of the pitch, naturally they had to respond.
First, Peregrine Derrick hit a Bludger toward Harry with his bat.
Harry was prepared and kept his forward momentum while slightly tilting his head—the Bludger flew right past Harry's left ear.
Immediately after came a whoosh as the second Bludger was also hit over by the other Beater, Lucian Bole.
This time Harry couldn't dodge it and was grazed on the elbow.
In that moment of delay, Peregrine and Lucian had already flanked him from both sides, flying toward him.
The two large-bodied Beaters blocked Harry's path, getting closer and closer.
From the corner of his eye, Harry saw the two grinning at him while raising their bats.
"How dare they!"
"Don't you dare!"
Seeing that the two actually intended to openly attack Harry with their bats like before, the support group in the stands all stood up shouting.
In an unnoticed corner in the shadows, a large black dog also barked furiously.
But Sherlock pressed Hermione back down. "Stay calm."
Hermione said urgently. "But they..."
Before she finished speaking, there was a loud "clang" as Peregrine and Lucian crashed directly into each other.
Fortunately, their legs were still tightly gripping their brooms, and the Nimbus 2001's performance was indeed strong enough that they didn't fall off.
But watching the two hold their heads and wobble apart before stopping dazedly in mid-air, everyone knew how strong that collision had been.
"Harry, well done!"
A burst of enthusiastic cheers erupted from the pitch.
Just moments ago, Harry had demonstrated his flying skills to the extreme.
The second before being sandwiched by Slytherin's two Beaters, he had sharply turned the Firebolt and shot straight up.
Peregrine and Lucian clearly hadn't expected Harry to have such a move.
Unable to avoid each other in time, they crashed directly together, producing that terrible clanging sound.
"Ha! Haha! Hahaha!"
Lee Jordan couldn't help laughing uproariously.
"Too bad, guys!
If you want to beat a Firebolt, you should have gotten up earlier!
Now Gryffindor has the Quaffle again, Angelina has it.
Flint is right beside her—poke him in the eye, Angelina!
Just kidding, Professor, I'm just kidding.
Oh no, Flint bumped Angelina and took advantage to steal the ball from her!
Watch out, Wood, defend—!"
But this time Flint finally scored.
With his goal, Slytherin finally got their first ten points of today's match.
The Slytherin section erupted in cheers.
"Flint, you son of a..."
Lee Jordan was about to curse but caught sight of Professor McGonagall from the corner of his eye. He quickly swallowed the key word and changed to.
"...I think that was a serious foul!"
Actually, Flint's collision this time could be considered a legal charge, not a foul.
But his action exceeded normal limits, falling into that discretionary gray area.
But Madam Hooch didn't call it, which is why Lee Jordan wanted to curse.
With Flint's goal, Slytherin finally opened up their game.
However, this didn't change the environment of the match.
After Katie broke through heavy pressure to score a goal, the Weasley twins flew circling beside her with raised bats, protecting her from Slytherin retaliation.
Katie was protected, but Peregrine and Lucian, who had just recovered from Harry's trick, took the opportunity to hit both Bludgers at Wood.
Even an excellent Keeper like Wood hadn't expected this development.
The two Bludgers hit him in the stomach one after another.
Fortunately, he was solidly built. He rolled in mid-air and gripped his broom, though he looked like he was having difficulty breathing.
Furious, Madam Hooch charged over and shrieked at Peregrine and Lucian.
"The Quaffle isn't in the scoring area—you cannot attack the Keeper! Gryffindor penalty shot!"
Angelina subsequently scored the penalty, widening the score gap once more.
Several more fouls occurred from both sides, with penalty shots going back and forth.
During this process, Wood displayed incredible form, actually saving three consecutive Slytherin penalty shots.
By this point, Gryffindor fans' voices were nearly hoarse.
Because with both sides scoring in succession, Gryffindor was now ahead by sixty points.
As long as Harry caught the Snitch now, they would win the match and claim the trophy.
At this moment, Harry could almost feel all hundred-plus pairs of eyes in the stadium fixed on him.
He circled the pitch rapidly at high altitude, with Malfoy desperately chasing behind.
Just then, he finally saw the Golden Snitch again.
Excellent—Malfoy definitely wouldn't have time to stop him.
Without a word, he squeezed his legs and the Firebolt suddenly accelerated.
Harry felt his heart was about to leap out. He heard the wind whistling in his ears.
But for some reason, the Firebolt suddenly slowed down, and there was the sound of the entire crowd shouting.
What's happening?
Harry looked back and was immediately furious.
Flint had appeared from somewhere and was now gripping the Firebolt's tail, desperately pulling it back.
"Flint, you..."
Harry wasn't Lee Jordan after all—he didn't have the talent for cursing, and some words just wouldn't come out.
But he was indeed angry enough to want to punch Flint, though unfortunately he couldn't reach him.
Flint was also gasping for breath from this action.
The Firebolt could accelerate to one hundred fifty miles per hour in ten seconds—that speed was no joke.
Even though he was tall, strong, and powerfully built, it still took tremendous effort to accomplish this.
"Penalty shot!
Gryffindor penalty shot!
I've never seen anything like this!"
Madam Hooch shrieked and shot up.
Flint looked unconcerned, sliding slowly back to his Nimbus 2001.
A penalty shot was a penalty shot.
His eyes glinted with malicious light—the objective had been achieved anyway. The Golden Snitch had disappeared again.
"Flint, you son of a bitch!"
Lee Jordan couldn't hold back anymore. While roaring into the microphone, he jumped to where Professor McGonagall couldn't reach him and continued his profane tirade.
"You shameless rogue, despicable, vile bastard, you—"
He cursed too filthily, but he really couldn't hold it in anymore, so even at the risk of being scolded by Professor McGonagall, he had to vent.
But this time, Professor McGonagall didn't scold Jordan.
Even she was shaking her fist in Flint's direction while shouting angrily.
Of course she wouldn't curse as filthily as Lee Jordan, but her fist-waving was so vigorous that even her hat fell off.
The entire stadium erupted in boos.
Just as Madam Hooch said, they had never seen such despicable, vile, dirty tactics.
Even Slytherin House's own people turned their heads away, unable to watch.
Too ugly!
Professor Severus Snape's face was gray.
He looked as if someone had stuffed a bezoar into his mouth.
Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and others all cursed angrily.
"Despicable!"
"Shameless!"
"Absolutely disgraceful!"
Compared to the others, Sherlock clasped his hands under his chin, withdrew his gaze from the large black dog that Sirius had transformed into, and said calmly.
"Slytherin has run out of tricks. As long as Gryffindor maintains their composure, victory is at hand."
Hearing Sherlock's analysis, the friends steadied themselves.
While Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty shot, Flint shouted at Malfoy.
"Draco, you keep your eyes on him!
Next time if he gets ahead of you again, you know what to do, right?"
Malfoy frowned.
For some reason, he suddenly felt that his once-close teammates' current attitude was somewhat ugly.
Instead, Harry, whom he had detested to the extreme before, now seemed considerably more agreeable.
"Got it," Malfoy nodded.
Harry noticed this exchange. Thinking of Sherlock and Gemma's assessment of Malfoy, and recalling that this morning Malfoy hadn't joined the other Slytherins in mocking him, his heart stirred.
Taking advantage of Flint's attention being elsewhere, Harry rode the Firebolt over to near Malfoy.
"Potter, what are you doing?" Malfoy noticed Harry's movement and said with a frown.
"Malfoy, you wouldn't want your family to be disgraced by such despicable tactics, would you?"
Malfoy: (ー`ー)
'Why does Potter's speech have such a strange tone!'
"A descendant of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, Draco Malfoy with outstanding flying talent, Slytherin's top student Malfoy...
Would actually stoop to using such dishonorable methods to achieve victory, tsk tsk..."
Harry didn't notice that his current tone and manner were exactly like Sherlock's.
But Malfoy clearly noticed, so he immediately interrupted Harry.
"Enough, Potter. What exactly do you want to say?"
"Let's have a fair duel. What do you say?" Harry's green eyes met Malfoy's gray eyes as he made a proposal difficult to refuse.
"If I spot the Golden Snitch again, I'll tell you its location. We'll both go for it and truly settle this!"
Harry didn't ask Malfoy to tell him if he spotted the Snitch first.
On one hand, he felt Malfoy seemed to have changed, but after all, a leopard can't change its spots—expecting him to turn around completely all at once really wasn't realistic.
On the other hand, he had full confidence that he would definitely spot the Golden Snitch before Malfoy did.
The reason Harry made this proposal to Malfoy, besides feeling that Malfoy's performance was different from before and might actually be persuaded, was mainly because he'd been influenced by Sherlock.
At this moment, Sherlock's words echoed in his ears.
"Remember, never have a mind to compete with others. You need to win against yourself."
As long as he could persuade Malfoy to change his thinking, he would only need to defeat himself.
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