Hogwarts: My Grandmother is the Queen

At a height of less than five feet above the ground, the Golden Snitch made a nimble right-angle turn and soared upwards! Harry and Henry also pulled hard on their brooms at the same time, rising rapidly upwards.

The broom's tip almost touched the lawn, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

The sudden change of direction caused Harry to let out a slight groan as he swept his seven stars, his body being pulled by inertia.

Henry's broom was also under pressure, but his more precise control allowed him to make the turn relatively smoothly.

Like a mischievous sprite teasing its hunter, the golden thief began to fly rapidly through the air with no apparent pattern.

Harry and Henry gave chase, their brooms tracing intertwined green and red trails in the air.

"That's fast!" Lee Jordan's voice was hoarse with excitement. "I've never seen a first-year student chase like that! The Snitch's speed is insane! Potter is on the line! Wells is flying so fast, so gracefully! They're chasing each other around the field! Every change of direction is heart-stopping!"

Henry was completely focused, the wind whistling in his ears, the cold air stinging his cheeks.

His eyes were fixed on that single, leaping golden glint and the tenacious, indomitable red figure beside him.

Harry's talent and perseverance are truly astonishing. His ability to anticipate the movements of the Snitch is almost instinctive. Several times he almost touched it with his fingertips, completely disregarding the fact that he was riding an old broom that was not easy to handle and the terrifying moment he had just experienced.

Just then, the Golden Snitch suddenly stopped without warning, and then plummeted vertically downwards, heading straight for the ground!

Another dive! Harry almost reflexively followed suit.

But this time, Henry did not follow up immediately.

He made a move that made everyone gasp – he suddenly pulled the broom upwards, rising almost vertically twenty feet, then turned around and, at an angle, sliced ​​towards the area the thief was expected to fall from above!

"What is he doing? The thief is down there!" Draco shouted anxiously from the stands.

Daphne's eyes lit up: "He's anticipating the thief's second change of direction! After a sharp drop from low altitude, he usually pulls up rapidly!"

As if to prove her words, just two or three feet from the ground, about to collide, the Golden Snitch flapped its wings and bounced back at an incredible right angle, rushing towards Henry's path diagonally upwards!

Harry, having dived too quickly and too deeply, managed to pull himself up with all his might, but he was a beat slower than the Snitch and ended up to the Snitch's side and rear.

opportunity!

Henry and the Golden Snitch face each other! The distance closes rapidly—ten feet—five feet—

He released one hand, leaned forward as much as possible, stretched his arm to its limit, and reached out to grab it.

I touched it! A cold, hard sensation reached my fingertips!

But the thief's struggle was incredibly strong, and he was about to break free—

Without time to think, Henry risked leaning his body forward further, and quickly reached out with his other hand, bringing his hands together firmly!

"Got it!" Lee Jordan's voice cracked. "Henry Welsh has caught the Golden Snitch! Merlin's sock! He's got it! Match over—Slytherin wins!"

A moment of tense silence fell over the entire stadium, then, after Lee Jordan announced Slytherin's victory, the surrounding stands erupted in a deafening roar of cheers! Green and silver flags waved wildly!

"Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin!"

Even the other houses didn't stay put; they joined in the cheering—though there was a difference: Slytherin cheered for the house itself, while the other houses shouted Henry's name.

The Seeker represents the ultimate individual heroism in Quidditch, and Henry's performance just now undoubtedly won over the entire audience. Even Gryffindor had to applaud him, after all, he had just saved his team's Seeker.

Henry landed slowly in the center of the pitch, raising his clenched right fist.

Then, under the watchful eyes of everyone, he slowly loosened his fingers.

In the palm of his hand, the golden thief flapped its wings weakly a few times before finally falling silent.

The sunlight shone on it, reflecting a dazzling light.

Madam Hooch blew the final whistle. The scoreboard read: 220 to 50, Slytherin won by a huge margin of 170.

Harry landed not far away, his forehead soaked with sweat, and his face was still somewhat pale from the intense chase and the previous fright.

He looked at the golden light in Henry's palm, a clear sense of loss flashing across his eyes, but that loss was quickly replaced by a complex emotion—gratitude for the life-saving grace,感慨 about the thrilling chase, and heartfelt admiration for his opponent's brilliant final strike.

He maneuvered the not-so-agile Seven Stars Sweep closer, extended his hand, and said in a slightly hoarse but sincere voice, "Brilliant prediction... Also, thank you, and congratulations to you all."

Henry held his sweaty hand and could feel the slight trembling of the other's fingertips.

"You did a fantastic job chasing him, Harry. The outcome might have been completely different with a different broom."

He spoke from the heart; Harry's tenacity and talent had left a deep impression on him during the match.

Flint charged forward like a Spanish bull that had spotted a red cloth, his immense joy dispelling all his previous anger and anxiety.

He grabbed Henry tightly, almost suffocating him, then raised his arms high and roared a deafening victory cry toward the Slytherin stands.

Henry felt that Flint shouldn't be raising his pincers like Niko at this moment; he should be pounding his chest to fit his image.

The other team members also excitedly gathered around, patting Henry's back and shoulders vigorously.

"Well done! That last prediction was fucking amazing!" Flint yelled in his ear, spitting everywhere. "And before that... never mind! We won! We're the champions!"

He didn't mention rescuing Harry again; the ecstasy of victory overwhelmed everything.

As the Slytherins escorted Henry toward the dressing room, Slytherin students reached out to touch their hero.

Henry maintained a polite smile and nodded to the boiling green sea.

The locker room had already turned into a sea of ​​revelry, and Flint announced that there would be a grand celebration party in the common room that evening, with all expenses covered by the team fund.

Even Higgs, who had been injured and forced to leave the game earlier, came over. With one arm in a sling, he patted Henry's shoulder hard with his uninjured arm and said frankly, "Beautiful flight, Wells. I didn't expect that high interception. You won cleanly."

This endorsement from a former Seeker carried particular weight in the noisy locker room.

"Thank you, Higgs. I hope you get well soon," Henry replied.

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