Brian was frowning at the Quaffle-Angelina had nearly caught an elbow from Flint as they fought for it, whether deliberately or otherwise-when he heard Hagrid muttering to himself and turned his gaze toward Harry-
When had he flown so high?!
No, it wasn't just the height. The broom was carrying Harry away from the pitch in jerking, twisting motions-then everyone noticed that something was wrong with Gryffindor's Seeker-
After one wild roll, the crazily bucking broom finally threw Harry off. Now he was hanging helplessly in midair, clinging to the broom handle with just one hand.
Neville burst into tears with a wail and, clutching his toad, buried himself in Hagrid's leather jacket to sob-he couldn't bear to look up again at Harry, whose life hung by a thread-Ron, Hermione, Seamus, and Dean were shouting for the referee to stop the match.
"Did Flint damage the broom when he hit it earlier?" Brian asked anxiously. He had already tightened his grip on his wand, ready at any moment to cast Arresto Momentum on Harry if he fell, then use a Levitation Charm to bring over the older Gryffindor students' mattresses to catch him.
In fact, he wanted to do it right then-the broom looked wrong, and the expression on Harry's face was unmistakably fear. Yet beneath that fear was a refusal to give up, a struggle he couldn't ignore-and that was precisely what made him hesitate.
Yes, this match meant a great deal to Harry and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and the referee still hadn't called a halt-Brian couldn't bring himself to intervene so abruptly and stop the match-interference by an outsider would lead to a replay, wiping out the advantage Gryffindor had worked so hard to build.
"No-the Nimbus 2000 is the latest model, famous for its stability