It is 10:00 a.m. and the Quidditch pitch is buzzing with people.
Felix walked into the bustling stadium and stepped into the nearest spectator’s elevated platform when the field suddenly erupted into an earth-shattering cheer as a blurry shadow in a bright red robe threw a quaffle into the goal.
Commentator Lee Jordan said, “Beautiful goal! Gryffindor moved back into the game and the score is now with Slytherin ahead for the moment, sixty to thirty, and it is their awesome broomstick that is making all the difference.”
“I have to give credit to Wood, if it wasn’t for him, the score would have been even more lopsided for Gryffindor!”
Felix’s gaze kept sweeping over the other raised platforms, and soon saw a middle-aged man with platinum blonde hair, Lucius Malfoy, in the green-painted Slytherin seat.
Next to him stood a cowering house elf.
Lucius’ eyes were firmly locked on his own son, Draco Malfoy, who, at the moment, tangled with Harry and, with his superior speed, flaunted a sharp midair stop and said back, “You’re a little slow on the uptake, Scarhead?”
Harry held his breath as he mentally ignored Draco, his eyes constantly roaming, whether it was Easter break or the last week, whenever there was a bit of time, Wood would shout at them to practice frantically.
“We’re at the pinnacle of history!” Wood said before the game, encouraging the players.
Harry agreed, and this is the closest they’d come to a championship, as he rose higher and higher, turning, spinning, circling, hovering, and travelling east and west in a zigzag pattern.
Draco is close behind him, but he did not have time to provoke Harry.
The fierce chase lasted two or three minutes, and by the end, even Harry got a little dizzy, so he had to stop.
Soon, Slytherin scored one more goal.
Harry could not help but be a little anxious, according to the three tactics developed by Wood before the game, the most ideal situation, he could catch the Golden Snitch as soon as possible, not giving Slytherin the opportunity to expand the score.
And Slytherin’s strategy is the opposite, keep stalling, as long as the game lasts two or three hours when the physical strength drops to a low point, it is the time for them to dominate the battlefield with the advantage of brooms.
This is also the reason why Draco has been harassing Harry.
On the high stage, Felix calmly watched the game, under the effect of accelerated thought and Supersensory Charm, his state is extremely dynamic and flexible, and the changes brought about by the slightest wind or cloud on the pitch can be picked up by him.
The shadows that were blurred became clear, and he could even see the expressions that flashed across the players’ faces.
Fourteen people on the field were included in his calculations, and Felix tried to predict their trajectories.
It is like conducting a quality duel.
It gave him his first taste of Quidditch, though, not for the same reasons as the others.
“Surely, one must not be too stubborn.” Felix’s mind spun with the thought.
When the score set at 110:60, a fussy golden shadow crossed the corner of Harry’s eyes, and at the same time, Felix’s gaze fixed on the tiny figure.
Harry made a wink as he deliberately flew in the opposite direction, Draco unsurprisingly followed, and just as he was about to turn around and mock Potter once more, he found Harry had already disappeared from his sight in a single stride.
“He’s at the bottom of the raised platform!” A Slytherin player shouted at him.
Lee Jordan also noticed the scene: “Look! Harry’s fooled Malfoy, and he’s chasing the Golden Snitch! We can’t see it, Harry must be down there in the wooden frame!”
The pitch fell silent and everyone held their breath.
Even the players on both sides stopped in midair, waiting for the result.
Wood, who was guarding the goal, yelled angrily, “Don’t stop, Angelina, Katie, keep attacking!”
However, just after ten seconds or so, before they could organize the next attack, Harry rushed out clutching the Golden Snitch and circled the pitch continuously to meet the cheers of the whole crowd.
“A wonderful scene! Harry has caught the Golden Snitch and the game is over! Gryffindor wins, final score 110:210!”
Lucius Malfoy stood up and raised his head expressionlessly as he kicked Dobby away and walked off the raised platform.
Waiting for a moment, Felix also stood up and Lucius paused at the edge of the pitch, waiting for Draco to appear, as small groups of wizards came out one after another, enthusiastically discussing the match.
Felix tapped his wand on his body, his blue robes fading a little until they blended in with the environment.
He brushed shoulders with Lucius.
As Harry walked out of the stadium flanked by Gryffindors, he caught a glimpse of Lucius looking down and lecturing Draco, who had a bitter face and didn’t say anything.
This cheered him up even more, although there were still a few games to go, he believed that Gryffindor would eventually take the Quidditch Cup.
Walking some distance away, Harry suddenly spotted the house-elf beside Lucius.
His eyes instantly widened, “It’s Dobby!”
He’s Malfoy house-elf?!
Harry stared incredulously at Dobby, who also noticed his gaze and looked over with wide tennis ball eyes, and he waved his hand at Harry.
But Lucius had already finished reprimanding his son and strode off, with the elf following in his footsteps, giving Harry a pitiful look before he finally disappeared.
…
Evening, the Great hall.
“What did you say! Dobby is from the Malfoy’s?” Ron looked at Harry with a surprised look on his face, the chicken leg in his hand left halfway hanging in the air to his mouth.
“Shhh! Keep it down,” Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione as he looked around and saw that no one was paying attention, “I saw it with my own eyes, right when I came out of the pitch.”
Hermione spoke cautiously: “Harry, what do you think? Is this all a Malfoy plot, or is it the actions of Dobby acting on his own?”
Harry couldn’t be sure, he could sense Dobby’s respect for him, but couldn’t ignore the long-standing tradition of a house-elf.
From the great hall, they walked through the garden, discussing intensely.
“I think Dobby can be trusted, Harry.” Hermione analysed, “The danger he’s referring to is the Chamber of Secrets, as we discussed. If everything was a Malfoy plot, there was no need for him to draw a line in the sand.”
Harry also leaned towards this argument, Ron’s view is more neutral: “While you guys have a point, I’ve never heard of a house-elf going against his master’s orders.”
At the rune tuition that night, Hermione asked, “Can house-elf disobey their masters’ orders?”
Professor Hap answered meaningfully, “Generally speaking, no. But the contract does not bind the free will.”
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