Harry Escapes Calamity

Marcus Flint's injury and subsequent substitution gave Gryffindor a chance to catch their breath and pull one back.

10 to 50... Although the gap is still huge, at least it's not zero points anymore.

Once the Bludger returned to normal, Harry immediately noticed it. He quickened his pace, squinted, and carefully searched for the Golden Snitch's whereabouts through the silvery rain curtain.

Harry was very anxious.

Because he didn't know if this normalcy was temporary, and the score gap was widening, he had to catch the Golden Snitch as soon as possible to end the game.

"Were you practicing ballet just now, Harry Potter?" Malfoy deliberately flew next to him and shouted:

"I never knew you had this talent. Maybe you should sign up for the Skeleton Dance Troupe!"

Harry was getting annoyed by Malfoy's noise and couldn't help but glance back at him. But in that one glance, he saw... the Golden Snitch flew between the two of them.

Without the slightest hesitation, Harry immediately chased after him.

Malfoy's reaction was slower.

Although he had fallen behind considerably, the distance between them was gradually closing thanks to the advantage of the broom.

"It's the Golden Snitch... Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy both saw it... They're starting to accelerate!"

On the commentary stand, Lee Jordan excitedly shouted, "The Golden Snitch has changed direction... Harry Potter is close behind, less than two feet away... Draco Malfoy has been left behind... It seems that sometimes, even a good broom is useless."

Harry was getting closer and closer to the Golden Snitch; his fingertips could even touch the Golden Snitch's wings... But just then, a Bludger suddenly changed direction and Accio straight towards them.

This time, Harry didn't dodge. He released his broom, lunged forward, and grabbed the Golden Snitch tightly.

But at the same time, his arm was also broken by the Bludger.

With a splash, Harry tumbled off the broom and landed on the muddy ground, his arm dangling at a very strange angle.

Cheers erupted from the stands.

Kyle was also very happy... This was the first time in three years that he had watched the entire first game, a memorable moment.

As the stands chanted Harry's name in unison, Kyle noticed that the House-elf Dobby fled the Quidditch Pitch.

Behind Dobby, Kaka was wielding a cleaning broom with great force, hitting Dobby on the head again and again.

This is how House-elf resolve conflicts... simple and brutal, no magic, just a good beating.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. He wondered if the last Bludger that changed direction had anything to do with Dobby... If it did, then it was quite persistent.

It's just a pity for Harry; Kyle had hoped to save his arm.

After the game, Madam Hooch moved Harry to the sidelines of the court, right next to Marcus Flint, so they could take them to the Hospital Wing together.

A large crowd gathered around.

Harry, still half-asleep, saw a row of Winky teeth.

"Oh, no, no you," he groaned.

"What did you say? You want me to treat your arm?" Lockhart shouted to the students gathered around him. "Don't worry, I'm just about to do that."

He pulled out his wand...

"So, which of you two will go first?"

Harry was incredibly relieved he hadn't passed out. He stretched out his uninjured hand and pointed tremblingly at Marcus Flint. "He... he's more seriously injured."

"What a kind and good child." Lockhart touched the tears welling up in his eyes. "Don't worry, no matter who it is, I can heal them in the blink of an eye. Let's start with the closest one."

Lockhart looked at Harry's arm.

"No!" Harry exclaimed quickly, "Just leave it like this, it doesn't hurt at all... Ouch... Thank you."

Harry struggled to sit up.

"Look at you, you're in so much pain you're starting to talk nonsense." Lockhart raised his wand. "Lie down, it's just a simple spell, I've used it countless times..."

"Professor Lockhart..."

Kyle squeezed through the crowd and whispered to Lockhart, "I know you can definitely cure them, but leave this small matter to Madam Pomfrey... otherwise she'll lose her job."

Moreover, I think everyone would like to hear your thoughts on the match just now."

"Oh... you're right, I really shouldn't have stolen Poppy's thunder."

Lockhart patted his forehead. "I'm sorry, I often treat injured people while traveling, it's become a habit... I hope Poppy can forgive me."

"But you've come to the right person when it comes to Quidditch," Lockhart laughed. "The Appleby Arrows invited me to join them twice, but I had to decline because I had to save the villagers who were being harassed by the Wagga Wagga Werewolf."

In fact, they extended another invitation to me this July... the very day after Headmaster Dumbledore came to see me. If the invitation had arrived two days earlier, I might already be at the Quidditch match."

His words caused a sensation... Even now, many people at the school are still his admirers.

Harry, lying on the ground, breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you..." he whispered to Kyle.

Fred and George squeezed in, and while Lockhart was talking about how well he flew, they lifted Harry up and ran towards the Hospital Wing.

Everything went smoothly; Madam Pomfrey reattached Harry's arm in just one second.

She just didn't seem very happy.

"Every year people get injured... This sport is too dangerous, I don't understand why Dumbledore hasn't banned it yet."

She shoved a bottle of potion into Harry. "Drink this; it will help your recovery..."

Harry didn't say anything, and silently took a sip of the potion.

Although he was prepared, Harry still choked and almost vomited. The taste was just like the Dursley family' dishwater, and he barely managed to hold it in.

"Weren't there supposed to be two injured people?" Madam Pomfrey looked around. "Why are you the only one here?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Slytherin's men carried Marcus Flint into the Hospital Wing.

Enemies meeting are especially hostile; looking at the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, they made no attempt to hide the hatred in their eyes.

But since this was the Hospital Wing, these people didn't dare to do anything rash, and simply put Marcus in the bed furthest from Harry's.

"His nose is broken, and he's lost many teeth..." Madam Pomfrey examined Marcus's condition and said sternly, "Dumbledore should really ban this dangerous sport!"

"Madam Pomfrey, Quidditch isn't actually that dangerous..."

Malfoy was about to say something, but Madam Pomfrey merely glanced up at him, and he wisely kept quiet.

Since his last stay here for a few days, Malfoy has developed a psychological aversion to Madam Pomfrey.

The medicine she gave me tasted awful... it was even more disgusting than slugs.

Thinking of this, Malfoy's face paled even more, and he subconsciously looked towards the doorway.

He had originally planned to find a chance to mock Harry, but now, all he wanted was to leave immediately.