The match continued, with boos from the entire stadium, but they couldn't stop what was happening.
Figures still flew across the lead-gray sky.
However, those green figures gradually began to adopt Flint's pattern and rhythm, with two or three of them starting to violently charge at Gryffindor.
Just as he had said before, they only needed to do their part.
He would handle the rest.
Snatching the Beater's bat and blasting the Bludger, or suddenly charging during a parallel tackle for the Quaffle.
"Foul! Flint of Slytherin has once again charged at Gryffindor's Seeker! He's falling! Now is Harry Potter's chance to seize the Golden Snitch! Wait?!
What is Harry Potter doing? Is there a problem with his broom? Madam Hooch blows her whistle, Slytherin has lost its best chance to seize the Snitch! The match is paused, can Gryffindor's Seeker return to the field?"
The Golden Snitch flashed and vanished. Flint looked furiously at Harry, only to find him standing on the faculty viewing platform.
His green eyes held a bewildered gaze.
Howl leaned back in his chair indifferently, drinking the Exploding Orange Juice, a more intense exploding soda, that the Little Wizards had just distributed.
Then, he waved his hand, a casual smile playing on his lips.
After seeing Howl's smile, Harry took a deep breath and nodded almost imperceptibly.
Seeing this, Snape cast a questioning look at Harry, his expression like he was looking at a dead man.
Harry's gaze met Snape's, and after a moment, he slowly spoke.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I will do my best to make up for the points owed!"
Then he looked down at the Gryffindor team.
Wood was pleading with Madam Pomfrey to let their Seeker return to the field; this position was too important, worth one hundred and fifty points.
The others looked grim. The current situation overwhelmed them; Flint's tactics in this match were more aggressive and undisguised than in previous years.
"Why didn't you quickly seize the Golden Snitch when you had the chance?!" Flint's reprimand, though delayed, arrived.
Harry ignored him and flew downwards.
The Gryffindor team watched Harry land, casting disgusted glances at him. Fred and George stopped him.
"Harry, don't overthink it."
"Let's finish the match first."
Harry's arrival now was truly not a good decision; the rest of the team was very displeased with Slytherin.
Harry raised his hand and looked at the silver-haired figure. His expression was calm: "I'm looking for Madam Hooch."
The people in the stands exchanged glances, only to see the Slytherin team members also descending!
The match was temporarily suspended.
All the Little Wizards and Professors focused their attention below. They saw that it seemed to have become noisy down there, and then the two houses returned to their respective locker rooms.
People were shouting.
"What happened?"
"Are they still playing or not?"
However, a moment later, a piece of news revealed the answer to them, igniting the entire stadium.
"This is the first time such a situation has occurred at Hogwarts in recent years!
Harry Potter, for an unknown reason—has withdrawn from the match!!"
"Withdrawn?! How is that possible?!"
"What on earth are they doing?!"
"I knew Slytherin still had normal people, haha."
The entire stadium erupted, like an explosion. Cheers and astonishment intertwined, seemingly breaking through the sky.
Snape suddenly stood up and turned to look at Howl.
"What on earth is going on?" His face was dark, like the weather today.
Howl shook his head: "I don't know either, I'm so curious."
Below, in the Slytherin locker room.
Harry looked apologetically at everyone.
"Since the other side also has no Seeker, I think it won't matter much if we're missing one. I'm truly sorry, but I have no heart to participate in this match."
"Are you kidding me—?" Flint grabbed Harry's collar and roared.
Garrd silently watched Harry, deep in thought.
"Get out of here, get out of the locker room! From today on, you are no longer part of the team!!" Flint pushed and shoved Harry out of the team locker room.
Harry looked apologetically at Garrd and the others.
The apology was genuine. However, his resistance to this terrible match was just as strong!
In the locker room, Flint turned around and looked at Draco, who was there as an assistant instead of in the stands.
"Malfoy, you're in! Slytherin's victory is unstoppable. If someone wants to roll, let him roll!"
Draco silently watched the locker room door where Harry's back had disappeared, then looked at Flint.
"I really want to join the Quidditch team, and the Seeker position suits me very well."
Flint snorted coldly, sneering at Harry's actions.
However, Draco's words took a sharp turn.
"But, I refuse—"
Draco stood up, dusted off his backside, and followed closely behind Harry, pulling open the outer door of the locker room.
"There's really no need to play this kind of match. If you ask me, if it's really not working, they should just give the trophy directly to the dirtiest player every year."
With that, he closed the door and left.
The locker room fell into a stalemate.
Soon after, Madam Hooch pushed open the door: "Get ready, where are your people?!"
"No problem, we're down one, but we still have more people than Wood. Neither side has a Seeker, so neither will get the Snitch points!
Just score more points before Madam Hooch catches the Snitch and ends the match." Flint said again.
"Wait!"
A voice interrupted him.
Pucey raised his hand.
"I'm not playing either, you guys can play if you want."
With that, he threw down his uniform and turned to leave.
"What on earth are you doing?! Do you think this is child's play?" Madam Hooch was displeased and somewhat annoyed.
This was the most magical situation she had encountered in her more than ten years working at Hogwarts.
"It's not child's play, but I think there's really no need for it anymore." Another person took off their team uniform…
…
A moment later, at the commentary booth, Lee Jordan received a message and immediately gasped into the microphone.
Everyone quieted down, their attention drawn to him.
He looked shocked, quickly tapped the microphone twice, and then cast an inquiring look at Madam Hooch.
Madam Hooch nodded.
"Slytherin—three more players have withdrawn!!"
The entire stadium erupted. Snape's face darkened, and he impatiently swept his robes aside, walking directly down from the stands.
As things stood, the match could no longer continue and ended hastily, like a dragon's head with a snake's tail.
The crowds gathered, like a torrent, their discussions shaking the heavens, heading towards the Castle.
Professor Flitwick walked down from the stands with a puzzled expression and looked at Howl: "Why did they withdraw?"
"I don't know, maybe someone felt… this match was meaningless.
When a certain honor loses its value, it seems that even among Slytherin, who pursue it the most, some will scoff at it!"
As he was speaking, Howl suddenly frowned. He sensed that a certain restriction he had set long ago had been triggered!
Professor Flitwick was about to say something else when he heard a burst of turbulent noise beside him.
Looking again, his figure had already disappeared.
"Apparition?!"
"Where did Professor Jones go?!"
Many people in the crowd noticed Howl's disappearance, but discussions about it were quickly drowned out by the discussions about the withdrawal of the Slytherin team members.
This was an unprecedented big news.
The crowd flowed into the Castle, and discussions grew even more heated.
Suddenly, a tender, fear-filled shout rang out.
"Harry Potter—a snake—a giant snake!!"
This interrupted everyone's discussion, and hundreds of eyes focused on the side corridor.
A pale-faced, weak-legged child, whose scream it had been.
"Justin, what nonsense are you talking about?" Someone looked at him displeased.
"Chamber of Secrets!!" Justin Finch-Fletchley clutched his head, trembling all over.
"I saw Harry Potter talking to a snake, he was instructing a snake to attack Gryffindor people…
It was Granger, that Muggle-born Witch—I saw it with my own eyes—"
Saying that, he let out a final roar, under the gaze of the crowd who had been shocked and silenced by his previous words.
"Harry Potter—is a Parseltongue—he is the Heir of Slytherin!!"
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