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Chapter 29: Harry, Jeopardy!

Could it be that even if the name that should not be mentioned could control more than one wizard, the dark lord was still capable of infiltrating Hogwarts Castle even in his weakened state?

Dracula quickly scanned the entire Quidditch pitch and soon noticed another person behaving unusually—

The head of Slytherin House, Severus Snape!

At that moment, Snape was standing in the middle of one of the stands, his eyes fixed on Harry, and he was silently murmuring words.

But Dracula could tell that Snape was clearly not the one casting the jinx on Harry's broomstick.

Although Snape's eyes were filled with disgust for Harry, his face showed an unmistakable mixture of anxiety and concern, which was very complex.

"Interesting, Snape is casting counter-spells to save the student he hates the most," Dracula smirked.

Seeing that Snape's counter-spells were having a noticeable effect, and Harry was not falling off his broom immediately, Dracula became quite interested in observing Snape and admired his complex expression of disdain mixed with worry.

Although Dracula could see Snape's intention, the other young witches and wizards did not have his insight.

Harry's close friend Hermione was very perceptive and soon noticed Snape's murmuring. She concluded that he was the one casting the dark spell on Harry.

Without hesitation, she ran down from the stand and quickly made her way to the stand where Snape was located.

Hermione struggled through the crowd and reached Snape's stand. She hurriedly moved along the row of seats behind him, even accidentally bumping into Professor Quirrell, who was watching the commotion, causing him to fall forward into the seats in front.

"Why... why the rush, Miss Granger?" Quirrell asked, stammering.

"Sorry, Professor Quirrell, but I really don't have time to explain right now!"

After apologizing, Hermione didn't stop her pace and made her way to Snape.

With everyone's attention focused on Harry struggling with his broom, she took the opportunity to crouch down, pull out her wand, and softly cast a few spells she had learned in her spare time.

Bright blue flames shot from her wand and aimed at the hem of Snape's robes.

Hermione believed this was the most appropriate spell for the situation.

The blue fire, which resembled bluebells, was not as dangerous as real fire. It could be touched, passed through, and would not cause burns, yet it could still burn materials like clothing and plants. Therefore, it would not harm innocent students and could be easily retracted, making it less likely to be noticed by Snape.

After about thirty seconds, Snape, who was deeply engrossed in his spell, finally realized that his robes were on fire and had to momentarily shift his gaze away from Harry.

Meanwhile, Hermione quickly gathered the bluebell flames from his robes, retracted them into her pocket, and hurriedly returned along the row of seats—she was sure that Snape would never know what had happened.

However, just as Snape looked away, the counter-spell he had maintained stopped working. The brand-new Firebolt 2000 lost control entirely and suddenly threw Harry off the broom!

The entire audience stood up, watching in shock as Harry plummeted rapidly.

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth, looking at Snape and noticing an expression of panic on his face—a look that had never been seen on Snape before!

Snape, in a panic, drew his wand from his sleeve, trying to use a slowing charm to save Harry. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall also promptly drew her wand and cast the slowing charm—

"Arresto Momentum."

In the next moment, both professors were astonished.

Their slowing charms failed!

With their level of magical skill, Snape and McGonagall had not encountered a failure of spells for years. Now, in this critical moment with Harry about to fall, their slowing charms suddenly failed, presenting a life-or-death challenge for the young savior!

Harry was in danger!

...

On the other side, the Weasley twins from Gryffindor were desperately trying to save Harry.

As soon as Harry's broom began to behave erratically, the twins tried to pull Harry onto one of their brooms but were unsuccessful—every time they got close, the broom would shoot higher.

After their failure, they no longer cared about the outcome of the Quidditch match or their bet with Slytherin. They frantically flew towards the conspicuous black umbrella on the stand.

"Professor, can you save Harry? I know you can!"

"Yes, you're Harry's favorite professor, don't let him down!"

They flew to the stand where Dracula was and shouted anxiously.

Cedric under the umbrella also looked up at him hopefully.

"What, do you think I'm the type to stand by and do nothing?" Dracula chuckled lightly.

Seeing the smile on his face, the three young witches and wizards instinctively sighed with relief.

Watching Harry still plummeting rapidly, Dracula was somewhat surprised by the malfunctioning spells of McGonagall and Snape, and he snapped his fingers.

A large bat, identical to the one that caught Cedric, flew out from under the umbrella and, with a few flaps, reached beneath Harry.

The large bat gently caught Harry's falling body, smoothly tracing an arc downward and placing him gently on the soft Quidditch pitch grass.

In the sky, Madam Hooch also flew on her broom and retrieved Harry's Firebolt 2000 before it hit the ground.

She landed, preparing to take it back for a thorough inspection.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Madam Hooch asked, looking at Harry, who was covering his mouth as if about to vomit, with concern. "Oh, poor child, such a thing happening on your first match."

"Don't worry, child, the goals scored by Slytherin while your broom was malfunctioning won't count. You can have another match next time."

Saying this, Madam Hooch pointed her wand at her throat and amplified the referee's voice throughout the stadium—

"I declare today's match a..."

"Wait, Madam Hooch!"

Harry finally managed to vomit and interrupted Madam Hooch's announcement in time.

"I caught the Snitch!" he shouted, waving the ball high over his head.

The match ended amid cheers from Gryffindor and protests from Slytherin. With the referee's approval, Gryffindor emerged victorious!

...

In the chaos, in a corner where no one could see, a young wizard with black hair, handsome yet sinister, quietly left the Quidditch pitch.

He held a blank notebook, and the two ink-written words gradually faded—

"Fiem."