Chapter 169: Another Victory!
The match was fierce—brutal, even. Every Ravenclaw player was "accidentally" knocked into or clipped by Bludgers, courtesy of the ever-aggressive Slytherin beaters.
But they endured.
Captain Jonny Rivers kept pushing the team forward, the chasers gritting their teeth as they dodged collisions and countered assaults. Their aim was clear: block Slytherin's scoring, and buy time for Harry Potter to find the Golden Snitch.
High above the pitch, Harry hovered, his eyes scanning for the telltale golden glimmer.
Suddenly, he saw Terence Higgs, Slytherin's Seeker, dive sharply.
> The Snitch?
Harry instinctively followed. But before he could react—
WHAM!
A Bludger rocketed toward him from the side. One of Ravenclaw's chasers, Henry, saw it too late and intercepted the hit—taking the blow full-on and crashing to the ground with a thud.
Harry turned just in time to see Bol, one of Slytherin's beaters, casually lowering his bat. Terence, meanwhile, had stopped diving. There was no Snitch. It was a fakeout—deliberate, coordinated, dirty.
> "CHEATING!" Ron Weasley jumped to his feet in the stands.
> "Send him off, ref! Red card!" shouted Dean Thomas, clearly forgetting this wasn't football.
Madam Hooch blew her silver whistle sharply, signaling a timeout.
Bol had fouled. Ravenclaw was awarded a free throw. But Harry knew that wouldn't hurt Slytherin. If that Bludger had landed on him, Slytherin would've easily secured the Snitch and 150 points. The free throw was meaningless in comparison.
Slytherin students cheered sarcastically in the crowd.
Henry, dazed but caught mid-air by Professor McGonagall's conjured cushioning charm, was out of the game.
Just as the Ravenclaw team was beginning to worry, someone stepped forward from the stands—Roger Davis.
> "Captain, let me play," Roger said emotionally. "I want to play Quidditch again."
Jonny hesitated, but then Henry, before losing consciousness, whispered:
> "Do it… Jonny… like Davis said… we can't lose…"
And with that, Professor McGonagall stunned Henry for transport to the infirmary.
Jonny turned to the team.
> "We're going all in," he said firmly.
Roger took charge immediately.
> "Harry, Jonny, Phoenix and I will lock down Slytherin's chasers. Dennis, Woody—you two track their beaters and keep them off Harry. We need to shield him and give him room to find the Snitch."
Everyone nodded.
> "If anyone attacks Harry," Roger added, "drop whatever you're doing and protect him."
The whistle blew. Play resumed.
> "After Slytherin's despicable foul," Lee Jordan's voice rang out, "Ravenclaw substitutes former acting captain Roger Davis for the injured Henry. Ravenclaw takes the free shot—SCORE! That's 60 to 10! Montague has the Quaffle for Slytherin—wait, what's this? Ravenclaw's defense is tight. They're locking onto the Slytherin players like shadows!"
Suddenly, a golden blur darted near Marcus Flint's ear.
Harry saw it. The Snitch!
He dove.
Terence Higgs reacted instantly, diving in parallel.
Ravenclaw's team scattered to block every obstacle and shield Harry—Roger's plan was in full motion. Slytherin's efforts to intercept were too slow.
Then—
SNAP!
Harry pulled out of the dive, the Golden Snitch glinting in his hand.
The crowd erupted.
But at the same moment, Terence Higgs, fuming, slammed into Ravenclaw's Keeper—Alexander Smith—who absorbed the hit with a grin and barely flinched.
The game ended in chaos, with cheers and boos echoing across the pitch.
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> "Ravenclaw committed a foul! A Keeper who leaves the goal isn't a Keeper!" Flint was still yelling twenty minutes later, but it didn't matter—Ravenclaw hadn't broken any rules.
> Final score: 160 to 60. Ravenclaw wins!
Lee Jordan could barely contain his glee.
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After the Match: Hagrid's Hut
Harry didn't hear any of the victory speeches. He, Ron, and Draco Malfoy had headed to Hagrid's hut for tea.
But something was… off.
All the curtains were drawn, despite the warm, sunny day. The hut was stifling, the fireplace blazing unnaturally hot.
> "Hagrid… what's that?" Ron asked, pointing to the fireplace.
Nestled beneath the kettle, in the heart of the flames, was a large black egg.
> "Merlin's beard!" Hagrid exclaimed. "I forgot to hide it!"
> "Is that a Norwegian Ridgeback egg?" Draco breathed, eyes wide as he squatted beside the fire.
> "You know your stuff!" Hagrid blinked in surprise. He'd always assumed the worst of Draco, given his father's Death Eater past. But here was Draco—genuinely fascinated and informed.
> Am I judging people the same way the world judges Slytherins? Hagrid thought. Maybe that's not fair…
> "Read about it in Raising Dragons for Fun and Profit," Draco explained. "They need fire because the mother usually breathes on the egg. Once hatched, don't feed them brandy—it makes their fire more volatile."
Hagrid nodded, scribbling notes furiously in a tiny leather notebook.
Ron, slightly jealous, squeezed into Draco's spot by the fire.
> "Where'd you even get it, Hagrid?" he asked.
> "Won it," Hagrid said proudly. "Last night in the village, playing cards with a stranger. To be honest, he seemed eager to lose."
Draco frowned.
Harry's suspicion grew. He quietly tried to remind Hagrid that this was illegal—dragon egg possession was strictly regulated—but Hagrid was already whistling and tending the fire, completely oblivious.
The egg rocked slightly in the flames.
And from the shadows… something began to hatch.
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