Chapter 112: Two People on One Broom

The next day, Saturday.

Because of the upcoming Quidditch match, the castle had been thick with the smell of gunpowder since morning.

In the Great Hall, Gryffindor and Slytherin glared at each other across two long tables, as if whoever blinked first would lose the match.

"Where's Harry? I haven't seen him since morning." Silven asked.

"Went to the changing room early," Ron said. "Oliver thinks Harry is the key to today's match and doesn't want him influenced by Slytherin."

"Slytherin's Seeker is Malfoy." Fred and George came down the stairs, brooms in hand.

"Those Nimbus 2001s were sponsored by his father."

"Oliver thinks that's proof he lacks real skill."

"And it's our chance to win the match."

……

The Nimbus 2001 was the fastest broom money could buy; the entire Gryffindor team combined couldn't afford a single one.

The gap was too wide. No matter how much he didn't want to, Oliver Wood had to admit that if it came down to points, they were sure to lose.

The only option was for Harry to catch the Golden Snitch before Slytherin pulled 150 points ahead, ending the match early.

Win or lose rested on one person alone. Faced with that much pressure, no wonder he'd been so nervous yesterday.

As eleven o'clock approached, all the students began heading to the Quidditch pitch. Though the weather was hot and humid, with thunder rumbling faintly in the air, the crowd's enthusiasm remained high.

Seamus and Dean had made a banner out of an old bedsheet; the words "Go Harry" on it still glittered even in daylight.

Halfway there, Silven suddenly remembered he'd forgotten his snacks and had to dash back to the dormitory.

By the time he arrived at the pitch, panting, the match had already begun.

"Did I miss anything?" Silven squeezed to the front, where Ron had already saved him a spot.

"You made it just in time," Ron said, lowering the flag in his hand. "Slytherin just scored a goal — their brooms are too fast."

Silven nodded and casually tore open a Chocolate Frog. The headmaster winked at him, then vanished the next second.

Dumbledore again — Silven was a little disappointed.

Collecting Chocolate Frog cards was one of his few hobbies, and Dumbledore's card was so common the word "flood" barely did it justice — basically every wizard had one or two.

Only the wizard who had published *The Theory of Magic* could outdo him in card count.

Silven casually pocketed the card, handed the Chocolate Frog to Neville beside him, and tore open another pack.

Adbe Walflin: representative work *The Theory of Magic*……

"……"

"If I ever let Fred buy my Chocolate Frogs again, I'm a troll!" Silven stuffed the chocolate into his mouth gloomily and pulled out a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

On the pitch, Harry made a nimble turn as a Bludger whizzed past his hair; the near-miss drew cheers from the whole crowd.

Silven raised his hand and cheered along, then kept eating the Every Flavor Beans and Galleon biscuits.

"Silven, are you here to watch the match or have a picnic?" Hermione couldn't help asking. Even though Harry was dodging Bludgers in thrilling fashion, she couldn't focus on the match — her attention kept being drawn, against her will, by the smell of biscuits from beside her.

"Same thing," Silven said, casually handing her a Galleon biscuit.

He'd never been that interested in Quidditch to begin with, and didn't get the romance they spoke of — brushing past a Bludger. If he didn't eat, he'd be bored……

That said, wasn't Harry being a bit too romantic? He and the Bludger were practically about to spark……

At that moment, the players on the pitch also noticed something was wrong and called a timely time-out.

"That Bludger's not right," Hermione said, frowning. She noticed the Gryffindor team seemed to be arguing: "I don't know how they'll resolve it. Why don't they ask Madam Hooch to inspect that Bludger?"

"Then we'd be disqualified," Ron said. "And lose to Slytherin straight away."

"But everyone knows the Bludger's faulty."

"Rules are rules," Ron said helplessly. "Besides, that Bludger is sitting perfectly still in the box right now."

Hermione was so angry she couldn't speak.

Silven stood beside her, carefully observing the surroundings.

With everything that had been happening at school lately, he'd almost forgotten the other trouble — the house-elf Dobby, who had sealed the platform entrance just to keep Harry from coming to Hogwarts.

This Bludger going crazy seemed to be connected to it too.

Silven carefully observed the surroundings, but finding a hidden house-elf among hundreds of spectators in the stands was clearly no easy task.

To make matters worse, it started to rain. Large drops fell, making it impossible to see clearly at any distance.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the Gryffindor team took off again.

They hadn't come up with any good plan — just letting Harry face the Bludger-gone-mad on his own, while Fred and George went all-out against Malfoy.

The rain grew heavier. Harry dodged the Bludger's ferocious attacks again and again, his movements growing more and more ragged, and a burst of laughter rose from the crowd.

"I think we should give Madam Pomfrey a heads-up," Silven said, shaking his head, and stopped searching for the house-elf.

"At this rate, Harry's going to get hurt sooner or later."

"Yeah……"

"Best to get Madam Pomfrey straight down to the pitch."

Ron and Hermione said, but neither moved. Both stared fixedly at Harry on the pitch; Hermione had even pulled out her wand, as if ready to rush out and save him at any moment.

"Fine, I'll go." Silven stood up, brushed the biscuit crumbs off himself, and pushed his way through the crowd.

The hospital wing was on the other side of the castle.

Silven looked at the empty castle gates, hesitated a moment, then chose to go around the other way. That kind of entrance hall — empty, not a soul in sight — always reminded him of a not-so-pleasant memory.

Going around wouldn't take long anyway; he trusted Harry could hold on.

Ten minutes later, Silven left the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey and returned to the Quidditch pitch through the pouring rain.

The two of them walked into the pitch, looked up, and saw Harry and Malfoy shoving each other on their brooms…… wait, no!

Silven squinted, then realized they were actually on one broom — and in a bizarre pose: roughly, Malfoy was gripping Harry's head with his hands, and Harry was stepping on his face with his foot.

Madam Hooch's sharp whistle kept blowing, but neither of the two paid it any attention; they kept struggling forward and reached out their hands at the same time.

In the heavy rain, a flash of golden light flickered on and off ahead of them.

"This is too dangerous, far too dangerous!" Madam Pomfrey hurried her steps with a great fuss, and Silven quickly followed.

Just then, the mad Bludger came again, making a wide arc in the air and slamming straight in from the side.

The Bludger drew closer and closer, and Malfoy finally got scared; instinctively he pulled his arm back and gripped the broom hard.

But that movement of his also changed Harry's position.

The Bludger had originally been aimed at Harry's shoulder, but now it was his head.

All of this happened in a flash, and with the heavy rain blocking the view, the others simply had no time to react.

Even Harry himself didn't know — his attention was entirely on the golden Snitch in front of him.

The little golden ball flapped its wings and suddenly shot upward; Harry, also by instinct, pushed hard and, with Malfoy's help, stood up on the broom in an instant, his outstretched hand clenching tight.

"Bam!"

The Bludger had finally arrived.

Fortunately, the Snitch's sudden rise had caused Harry to change his original course, so the Bludger only struck his back.

But even so, Harry felt his vision go black and passed out on the spot.

The out-of-control broom began to shake violently, then plummeted straight toward the ground.

With a thud, water splashed everywhere, and Harry and Malfoy crashed onto the muddy pitch at the same time.

The golden Snitch was still gripped tight in Harry's hand.

Cheers rose from the crowds on both sides, and the rest of the team rushed over at once.

"What a barbaric sport!" Madam Pomfrey looked even angrier.

The searing pain from the Bludger, along with the cold rain pouring down on his face, brought Harry back to consciousness very quickly.

The moment he opened his eyes, he saw a row of gleaming teeth.

"You're in luck, Harry — the Bludger nearly took your head off, just barely missed." Luohate Sect said with a smile, "But don't worry, I'll have you fixed up right away."

Harry saw him draw his wand and tried to say something, but the spot where the Bludger had hit him hurt too much; he simply couldn't speak.

Luohate Sect raised his wand.

"Out of the way, don't get in the way!"

A rough hand shoved him aside; Madam Pomfrey didn't even glance at him and immediately began examining Harry's condition.

"Shoulder blade's broken, leg's broken too — still, not too serious." Madam Pomfrey noticed Harry's leg hanging at an odd angle, so she reached out and wrenched it back into place with a hard pull.

"Ah!" Harry let out a scream, but the next second he realized his leg had already been set.

Then a roll of bandages swiftly wound around his shoulder.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said sincerely.

"Oh, I could have done that too," Luohate Sect said from the side. "Poppy, you may not like hearing this, but if you'd let me handle it just now, Harry would already be walking by now."

Madam Pomfrey's expression was none too pleasant; Luohate Sect kept talking to himself beside her, seriously interfering with her examination of Harry's other injuries.

"Professor Luohate Sect, if you really want to help, then go see to the other boy."

Luohate Sect looked a little reluctant.

Of course he knew there was another person who had fallen from a broom as well, but healing an ordinary student and healing the Boy Who Lived were simply two different matters — the latter would clearly draw far more attention.

But since Madam Pomfrey had said as much, he couldn't pretend he hadn't heard; he could only walk, unwillingly, over to Malfoy.

Like Harry, he had also broken his leg in the fall.

"You're in luck," Luohate Sect said, raising his wand and bringing it down with a graceful flourish.

"Amedo!"

……

(End of this chapter)