Chapter 300

After the match began, Harry fixated his gaze on the field and quickly realized Astoria was indeed unwell—her flying speed was slow, and she showed no impressive maneuvers. Yet even if Draco had ulterior motives, he surely hadn't entirely abandoned house honor: Astoria's observational skills appeared remarkably sharp; Harry noticed she spotted the Snitch almost immediately, and Ginny had to exert great effort to pull her back.

Ginny chose to retreat rather than compete for the Snitch because she noticed something fascinating: Crabbe and Goyle, the two brutish Beaters, played with utter disarray, solely focused on shielding Greengrass. This left Slytherin's offense weak; Ron easily blocked their attacks, while their keeper, Miles Bletchley, was overwhelmed by relentless rushes and soon conceded thirty points.

"I can't take this anymore," Ginny complained during halftime, rubbing her arms. "Why are the Bludgers always targeting me? Has someone opened the Chamber again?"

"Confidence is the first lesson for a Seeker, and resilience is the last," Harry said with an encouraging smile, patting her shoulder. "Keep going—just a little longer. The point gap will soon exceed one hundred fifty."

Harry turned and saw Draco's face pale with fury, while Pansy looked utterly calm. For some reason, he suddenly felt a pang of sympathy—Draco truly valued Quidditch honor; losing badly to pursue some goal must have been painful for him too.

As the match entered its second half, Gryffindor's players grew more relaxed, while Slytherin's offense grew even weaker. Knowing they couldn't win, they sent one Chaser to guard Greengrass closely. This left Ron with nothing to do—he even left his zone and marched over to the opposing keeper, taunting him.

Conversely, under this extreme tactical imbalance, Ginny, as a rookie, ultimately couldn't withstand all the pressure. After a sharp turn, three large opponents blocked her position, forcing her to watch helplessly as Greengrass reached the Snitch first, ending the match 260 to 170.

Aside from Ginny, who looked resigned, everyone else cheered wildly, slinging arms over her shoulders, laughing and celebrating. After greeting them, Harry quietly drifted toward the Slytherin side, curious about what Draco meant by "conspiracies beyond the pitch."

"I've told you countless times—you need to drag her, drag her first! You never learn!" Pansy snapped.

"I am dragging her," Astoria whispered.

"Which drag exactly?" Pansy shrieked.

"I really am dragging her—you can ask the Beaters," Astoria said a bit louder.

"We're already asking the Beaters!" Pansy glared fiercely at Crabbe. "We poured so many resources into you, and this is the result? With such a massive advantage, you only caught it this late? Do you even deserve their help?"

"Well, Astoria did try her best…" Goyle scratched his head, attempting to defend her.

"You dare speak up?" Draco exploded, flinging a notebook at Goyle. "They counterattack and we can't respond; they double-press and we can't break through. I don't even know what you two trained for—if the Seeker doesn't have a clear advantage, we collapse entirely."

"I don't know—I just can't aim well. We never could aim well before, but we could still win by tackling or ramming. There are many tactics…" Crabbe clumsily described the old team that relied purely on brute strength.

"Look at that old crew of brutes—when weren't they made fools of by Harry and Cedric?" Draco jabbed Crabbe hard in the chest. "Is it really that hard to practice Beating for one summer? You always play four-on-one, and your protection is worse than shit."

"Forget it," Pansy waved her hand. "Let's go. This year's lost."

"Hey, wait—never mind, I won't say anything else." Draco shook his head and left the pitch.

Afterwards, Goyle placed a hand on Astoria's shoulder and forced a grim smile. "It's fine—you played well today. We'll protect you again next time. Maybe if we move a bit faster, luck might turn our way."

"Thanks, but flying back there was exhausting," Astoria sighed. "You should've chosen Harper—he's far better than me."

"Oh, no problem, no problem—it's just one match. You'll improve with more practice." Daphne Greengrass stepped forward from the sidelines, pulling her sister into her arms. "Vincent, Gregory—thank you for protecting her on the pitch."

Watching this farce from afar, Harry suddenly understood. He mused aloud: "So this is Draco's solution to breaking the deadlock. The real gap between our teams lies in the Beaters. Two dumb, inaccurate Beaters drag down every aspect of the team."

"So even if he played himself, he couldn't overcome the Beaters' disadvantage against me. When Draco realized Greengrass's observational skills were surprisingly sharp, he chose this high-risk strategy: pretending to agree to send a substitute, hoping Ginny—new to the field—would underestimate Greengrass and be caught off guard, ending the match instantly."

"It's a brilliant tactic. Had Ginny's skill been worse than he imagined, we'd have been ambushed. Sigh—overcoming stronger opponents always demands luck, and this time fortune simply sided with us." After voicing his analysis, Harry sighed deeply. When he first watched a match in first year, Gryffindor had also gambled everything against superior strength—and failed. Now the roles were reversed. It was heartbreaking.

"I admit your analysis is sound," Luna said with a knowing smile. "But what if this is exactly what Malfoy wanted?"

"Are you mad, or is he mad? Or is Greengrass mad too?" Zhang Qiu burst out laughing. "If any one of you three weren't insane, you'd never think this far. Honestly, even Luna couldn't invent such a ridiculous story."

"What story?" Harry didn't understand Luna's meaning.

"She means Malfoy's move is extremely clever," Zhang Qiu explained for her. "First, he publicly scolds Greengrass, pushing her away while reassuring Pansy; then, he sends his trusted men to comfort Greengrass and win her trust; finally, he criticizes her for the situation, not the person—making it easier to repair relations later."

"In this way, Malfoy can take over the Greengrass family's entire inheritance without breaking up with Pansy: Daphne and Astoria would marry Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle respectively." Luna spoke with a gaze that saw through everything. "After marriage, he'll have countless ways to get all three into his bed."

"Indeed, the plan is intricate and clever," Harry said, glancing at Zhang Qiu, then offering a weary smile. "But as Zhang Qiu said—if the 'trusted men' are Crabbe and Goyle, then Malfoy must be insane."

"Why do you think that?" Luna protested. "What's wrong with Crabbe and Goyle? They're like Malfoy's vassals—when the lord eats meat, he should let them sip the broth. Their families' heritage and prospects aren't bad. Besides, Crabbe and Goyle are tall, strong, and though not smart, they're honest and loyal—at least to their own. They're no worse than most."

"You're right," Zhang Qiu's tone turned serious. "Setting aside prejudice from their Death Eater ties, their reputation within Slytherin isn't poor. And the Greengrass family has almost no better option—they have only two daughters left and must find a protector. The Malfoys are the best choice."

"Also, the Greengrass family has suffered from chronic weakness for generations. If they breed with strong, healthy stock like Crabbe and Goyle, their descendants' health might improve," Luna added.

"But what if the child inherits the mother's frailty and the father's stupidity? That'd be a disaster," Zhang Qiu laughed again.

"No, no—that's wrong," Harry said, waving his hands to stop the girls' discussion. "If Greengrass truly fell for the big oafs because she liked their protectiveness or strength, I wouldn't object. But if she's submitting to Crabbe or Goyle out of fear that other pure-blood families will strike against her, and only seeks Malfoy's protection—"

Harry spoke with grave seriousness: "I will stop this."

Zhang Qiu shrugged. "I know you have the power. If it makes you feel better, go ahead."

"What power? Does the Order of the Phoenix meddle in this?" Luna scoffed.

"The struggle between the Order and the Death Eaters isn't just about dark magic versus opposing it. Dark magic represents people who pursue desire without restraint. We, therefore, are," Harry gripped her shoulders firmly, "a group who believe in human goodness, sworn to fight every ugliness of humanity."

"Speaking of which," Zhang Qiu asked with a sly smile, "Yanayev is brutally suppressing Chechen rebels, and his secret wizard forces use nothing but dark magic. Are you going to fight him?"

"Ah, that… that's too vile," Harry looked away, embarrassed. "And it's too far away."