The Golden Snitch hovered near the Slytherin goalposts, circling slowly around the base of one post like a trapped firefly.
Harry did not move at once. He glanced at Malfoy—he did not seem to have spotted it yet.
Now was his chance!
Harry suddenly dived, not straight at the goalpost but at an oblique angle that brought him in from the side. His robes traced a bright red arc through the air.
Malfoy jolted into action and hurried after him, but he was already a beat too late.
"Potter's heading for the goal! The Snitch is near the goalpost!" Lee Jordan's voice sprang back to life. "Malfoy's slow to react, but he's giving chase! He's right behind him! Can he catch up?!"
The gap between Harry and the Snitch shrank rapidly. Ten meters, five, three...
The Snitch seemed to sense danger. It shot upward, making for the open sky. Harry immediately pulled up his Broomstick and climbed straight after it. The wind filled his robes again, but he barely noticed. All he could see was that flicker of gold.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed the Firebolt to its limit. He became a blur, closing the remaining distance in a blink.
One meter...
Harry reached out. His fingertips almost touched the Snitch's cold metal surface when a gust of wind threw him off balance. The Firebolt wobbled beneath him.
Everyone gasped.
But Harry did something no one expected—he let go of the Broomstick handle.
He took both hands off it, gripped the Firebolt with his legs, and leaned his whole body to the right. The difficult maneuver sent the broom sweeping through a perilous arc, but it brought his hand closer to the Snitch.
"Merlin's high heels!" Wood screamed from below. "Harry's a genius!"
Harry's fingertips brushed the Snitch. He felt