Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

"There's no other choice!" Flint turned his head sharply, his gaze sweeping over the bench.

"You." He strode over, casting a shadow over Henry, who sat on the bench. "How are you?"

"Perfect condition, Captain," Henry replied calmly.

Flint stared at him for two seconds, then slapped Henry hard on the shoulder—almost knocking him back onto the stool.

"Go up there. It's okay if you can't catch the thief, just keep a close eye on Potter, don't let him have an easy time. Higgs is injured, and his broom is broken, so we'll have to make a substitution." He lowered his voice, almost squeezing out the words, "Listen, we're leading by forty points—as long as you don't let Potter catch the thief, and drag this out until we're more than one hundred and fifty points ahead, even if it's a tie, we can win on the tiebreaker, understand?"

"Understood, Captain." Henry nodded, turned around and gave Draco and the others a thumbs-up, then mounted his Nimbus 2000.

"Slytherin requests a substitution!" Madam Hodge announced loudly. "Seeker Terence Higgs is forced off the field due to a broken broom and a minor injury. In his place comes Henry Wales!"

When the freshman, dressed in a dark green Seekers jersey and riding a brand-new Nimbus 2000, took off, the entire stadium fell silent for a moment before erupting into an even louder roar.

"First year! Another first-year Seeker!"

"It's Wells! The prince of Slytherin!"

"Merlin's beard! This is getting interesting! First year versus first year!"

"Can he handle it? Higgs at least has experience!"

"But that Nimbus 2000 looks really good..."

In the Gryffindor stands, Ron stared in disbelief: "They...they put Henry in? Wasn't he a reserve player?"

Hermione bit her lip: "The rules allow for substitutions when a player is injured or a broom breaks, but this is just too much of a coincidence."

Harry looked at his newly entered opponent from the air, his feelings somewhat complicated.

He and Henry had a pleasant conversation at Hagrid's Hut, but on the Quidditch pitch... that's another story.

Hopefully, he won't be like Higgs, constantly pulling strings... After all, we're friends, aren't we?

He nodded to Henry, who returned a calm nod.

Draco, pumping his fist excitedly from the bench, yelled, "Go, Henry! Let them taste the power of first-years!"

Flint glared at Draco, who immediately fell silent.

The captain turned to the restarted match, his expression still grim.

Placing the fate of the game on a first-year reserve player was definitely not part of his plan.

But now, it's clear that there's no other choice.

Miss Farley calmly looked in the direction of the team, adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, and crossed her legs high.

Mrs. Hodge blew her whistle again, and the game continued.

Henry quickly rose to the high ground where Seekers usually operate, facing Harry across half the field.

Instead of rushing to find the thief, he first carried out Flint's order: keep an eye on Harry Potter.

Nimbus 2000 is very responsive under his control. The intensive training over the past few weeks has made his control of the broom much more refined than when he first enrolled.

He didn't make any fancy moves, but maintained a vigilant cruising mode, always keeping himself in a position where he could rush in any direction at any time.

Harry quickly felt the pressure; this new opponent was completely different from Higgs.

Higgs liked to use experience and feints to lure Harry, while Henry was like an elegant hunter. He never provoked Harry, but whenever Harry tried to accelerate or descend to a certain area, Henry would always move a beat ahead and block the most convenient route.

"A clever strategy," Cho Chang whispered to her classmate in the Ravenclaw stands. "He's not in a hurry to find the Snitch; he's wearing down and limiting Potter. Slytherin is ahead; they can afford to drag this out."

"But his flying skills are really good," a Ravenclaw boy pushed up his glasses. "Very steady, almost no unnecessary movements, the flying broomstick seems to come alive in his hands."

The game continued in a stalemate, and Slytherin took advantage of Gryffindor's momentary lapse in concentration to score another goal, bringing the score to 40-0.

But the Gryffindor twins struck again, using a dazzling series of ball-running passes and interceptions to not only protect their own players but also to cause a lot of trouble for the Slytherin players.

"George Weasley—Amazing runner bounce! It hits the tail of Slytherin Chaser Boll's broom! Boll loses his balance—the Quaffle is stolen by Angelina Jensen! She breaks through—and shoots! Gryffindor scores! Forty to ten! Alright! The counterattack begins now!"

A thunderous cheer erupted from the Gryffindor stands, and the momentum seemed to be turning around.

However, just one round later, Slytherin won again, making it fifty to ten!

Henry calmly observed everything from the air. He noticed that when Slytherin scored, Harry would instinctively glance at the scoreboard, a hint of eagerness flashing across his face.

The psychological advantage gained by Higgs' injury and subsequent departure is fading, and the pressure is returning to Gryffindor.

Time passed second by second.

Both sides scored two more goals, but Bool had to leave the field due to injury. Gryffindor quickly followed up with two more goals. The score became 70-50. Although Slytherin still led by 20 points, their advantage was gradually shrinking.

Flint waved his arms and roared furiously from the sky, urging his teammates to intensify their attack.

He looked just like an angry gorilla.

Henry remained hovering high above, keeping an eye on Harry. He sensed the rising momentum of Gryffindor more clearly than anyone else, as well as the increasingly intense light in Harry's eyes.

Just then, something unexpected happened.

Harry, who had been cruising steadily, suddenly lurched violently without warning! He ducked low and gripped the broom handle tightly with both hands, but Nimbus 2000 began to twist and spin wildly, like it had eaten a whole pack of gum and just wouldn't stop.

"What's going on?" Lee Jordan exclaimed in astonishment. "Harry Potter's broomstick seems to be malfunctioning! It's completely unresponsive!"

The cheers from the Gryffindor stands abruptly ceased, replaced by gasps and shouts of concern.

Hermione jumped to her feet, covering her mouth tightly with her hand.

Ron's face turned pale, and his eyes widened.

Harry was carried through the air by the broomstick, performing all sorts of dangerous maneuvers: spiraling and tumbling, diving at high speed and then suddenly being pulled up, and even being thrown towards the tower next to him!

He squeezed his legs together tightly, his knuckles turning white from the effort, and his face turned deathly pale during the perilous roll.

"Broomstick out of control! Seriously out of control!" Mrs. Hooch's shrill whistle rang out. She tried to approach on her broomstick, but Harry's broomstick was moving too wildly, and she dared not intercept it rashly.

On Slytherin's side, Draco was stunned for a moment, then a gloating expression appeared on his face: "Ha! Potter's broken broom is finished!"

(Please vote for me! Please, please vote for me! Waaaaah!)