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Chapter 186: The game that was finally won

"Exactly! Now I just hope you guys can keep from losing too much to Slytherin." Another Hufflepuff wizard said in a mocking tone, "All you guys have to do is manage to lose by less than two percent and we can thank Merlin out loud!"

Harry frowned and looked over at the young wizard.

Harry recognized him as a second year as well, by the name of Ernie McMillan, who seemed to be a pureblood nobleman, and who had been quite high-strung when the two colleges had been in classes together.

"Come on, Ernie." Cedric spoke up to interrupt McMillan's taunting and turned his head to Harry, "Harry, thank you for your kind words, but I'm sure we can beat Slytherin on our own merits."

He politely dismissed Harry's idea of surprise.

"But Slytherin's brooms are Lightwheel 2001," Harry said.

The Hufflepuff crew fell silent.

They actually knew that the Hufflepuff team was supposed to have a gap in strength with Slytherin, and had mostly lost against Slytherin on weekdays.

The entire group of small badgers, most of whom are upright and modest in character, are completely unable to let go under the "foul flow" style of play of the Slytherin team, and are often struck by their use of so-called "Transylvanian fakes" and other methods.

"The Transylvanian Fake-Out is a Quidditch trick that involves pretending to hit an opponent in the nose in order to confuse them.

However, the fake hit on the opponent's nose with a wandering bat by a Slytherin player is never real, and when the bat does hit the opponent's face, they often argue that they didn't hold it back and missed. ...

So basically, after every game, the poor little badgers have a swollen nose.

So if at all possible, they didn't really want to face the Slytherin players who were ironically going to be desperately chasing points.

If there had been a difference of more than two hundred points between them before the game, then Hufflepuff's players would have just had to play good defense and not have to worry about Slytherin's players laying down the gauntlet ...

"Dudu-"

Just then, the whistle blew for the match reserve.

Harry nodded to Cedric and then mounted his broomstick and flew straight out of the stands and into the mid-air of the Quidditch pitch.

The Gryffindor players didn't have much of a reaction to his tardiness, or to what he had just gone and done, and just gave the ball finder a casual glance, as if he was merely an unrelated person used to fill in the empty seats so that the game could start.

Only Wood added a slight comment when he saw him.

"Harry, I don't expect you to be able to catch the Golden Flyer either, and even if you might, we don't have the energy to go on battling Slytherin for a hundred and fifty point goal."

If it had been one of those usual weekend matches, with a defiant mind like Wood's, he would have had to fight for that slim chance of victory even if his hopes were slim.

If Harry had any hope of catching the Golden Snitch, then it was absolutely possible that he, the training fiend, would have ordered the members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team to fight against Slytherin for three days and three nights in an effort to make up the difference of one hundred and fifty points, and then wait until they had surpassed Slytherin by one hundred and fifty points before letting Harry go and catch the Golden Snitch, which represented the end of the match.

Because only when they exceeded Slytherin by three hundred points would they be able to get a ticket to the final.

But at the end of the day, this match was ultimately held shortly before the final exams.

They would be taking the more important final exams in a few days, so there was absolutely no need to waste these two days of rest, exhaust all their energy, and compete in a match with no end in sight just for a hope so small that it was almost impossible to see.

Wood, as the captain, of course knew this well, so he sighed and said despondently:

"You try to pester Malfoy and stop him from catching the Golden Flyer that early ... We can't lose that badly at least."

Harry gave his captain a deep look and nodded slowly.

The whistle for the start of the match blew and all the ghostly flying balls and wandering balls immediately rose into the sky and the golden flyer was long gone.

Upon hearing the whistle, Harry flew to an extreme height in a flash, taking a distant view of the entire Quidditch field.

"Dammit, didn't I tell Harry to go pester the ball-getter across the field?" Wood cursed when he saw Harry's move, "Never mind, leave him alone, we'll do the rest. Fred, George, cover Angelina!"

"Roger that, Captain!"

"No problem, Captain!"

Fred and George, even in the face of this match with no chance of winning and no future, still maintained their playful expressions and quirkily answered.

The game was on the line like a battle, and the players from both teams quickly became entangled!

High in the air, Harry didn't care about his captain's questionable emotions, he narrowed his eyes and carefully scanned the entire field of play for various scenarios with a seriousness he hadn't had all semester, like an eagle flying through the air in search of prey ...

He saw Fred and George testing each other with "Transylvanian Fakes" against Marcus Flint of Slytherin; Angelina carrying a ghostly ball through defense after defense and being stopped by a burly Slytherin player; Wood nervously standing in front of the three Gryffindor Globetrotters, watching from afar! The ghostly fly balls that passed back and forth ...

He also saw two delicate chairs alone on a spectator stand dedicated to professors, outside the arena, and two professors he rarely met in this arena were in the seats at the same time.

Dumbledore was sitting comfortably in one of the chairs, enjoying the intense match, while Dracula was leaning on the railing around the spectator stand with a black parasol, surveying the rapidly changing Quidditch situation on the field with interest.

All the sights were received in Harry's eyes.

In the bright sunlight, he completely dismissed distractions and squinted, his eyes looking through the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose at every suspicious spot.

Out of nowhere, an anomalous golden reflection suddenly crept out of the corner of his eye in the middle of an afterglow.

Harry turned his head fiercely and turned his broom to fly towards the golden reflection.

Malfoy, Slytherin's ball finder, saw Harry's move and accelerated madly towards his position.

The speed of Lightwheel 2001 was obviously a considerable increase compared to the old version of Lightwheel 2000, and whether it was the boosting efficiency of straight-line acceleration or the terminal velocity, Malfoy was considerably faster than Harry.

But Harry naturally had his own methods.

Harry threw a few light turns in the air in succession, easily throwing Malfoy, who was only good at forcing his way through the air by speed, behind him, and almost making him crash into one of the goal posts.

By the time Malfoy was fooled, Harry accelerated fiercely and dove towards the spot where the golden glow had appeared!

"Oh my god, I saw it, Harry actually spotted the golden flyer!" On the Quidditch commentary table, commentator Lee Jordan looked on incredulously at the scene and exclaimed excitedly, "Is the best ball finder, who has been silent for a tournament year, finally going to regain his original level?!"

The entire Quidditch pitch seemed to go quiet for a split second as all eyes were focused on Harry.

And there was no obstruction in front of Harry, only a small golden ball lingering in the air.

"Duuuuuuuuuuuuuu-"

Ms. Hokey blew the whistle that signaled the end of the match.

Harry raised the golden flyer in his hand high in the air, revealing a happy smile that he hadn't seen in a long time.

In the end, the scoreboard was set at a score of 160:10, pulling straight through a huge gap of 150 points from Slytherin.

In this way, the whimsical idea he had proposed to the Hufflepuff players before the game had actually come true!

The entire Quidditch pitch was abuzz!

The young Gryffindor wizards, who hadn't had much passion for watching the match for quite some time, were desperately waving the red flag representing the house and chanting Harry's name at this moment.

Professor McGonagall, instead of his usual serious look, was wiping the corners of his eyes with emotion; Dumbledore showed an easy smile and nodded to Dracula, moodily stuffing another Zippy Honey Candy into his mouth.

Dracula also ticked the corners of his mouth, seemingly satisfied with Harry's performance, not failing to live up to his gesture of coming over with Dumbledore to watch the match even on such a sunny day.

The commentator sitting in the commentary seat, Lee Jordan, was hesitant to leave the seat, still analyzing the significance of this match with great interest-

"Let's start by congratulating Gryffindor in advance, for coming in third place in the Quidditch Cup this tournament year!"

"As I'm sure you all know, as the defending champions of the previous tournament year, the Gryffindor team had a poor year, and as the youngest and most promising ball finder ever, Harry Potter has to take the main responsibility."

"But today Harry gave me a different feeling, it was as if the confident best player from last year had come back from the moment he got the Quidditch Cup!"

"It's a bit of a shame that if he could have found this form of today's earlier and won a few more matches, maybe Gryffindor could have gotten their ticket back to the finals ... unlike now, where they have to settle for a tournament year third place finish."

Lee Jordan, at times Convincingly impassioned, at times feeling regretful, said, hogging the microphone and not wanting to leave, until Ms. Hockey was about to clean up the field of play and only then readily gave up her seat as a commentator.

And at this point Harry had just as little time and energy to care about Lee Jordan's commentary, as he was surrounded by his own teammates, all of whom were inquiring as to what he had figured out that was surprisingly as powerful as a knockout drug all of a sudden.

Harry laughed and responded to the jabs and inquiries from his teammates, finally feeling the atmosphere that he hadn't felt in this team in the last six months ...

They joked and laughed as they flew down from high in the air, passing in between the stands where the players of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team were.

Harry took the time to give a thumbs up in the direction of where Cedric was.

Cedric smiled knowingly and gave Harry a thumbs up back.

Next, they could finally face their final exams with confidence!