[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]
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"Renewal!"
Harry had used Neil's mental magic on Vernon's and Dudley's clothes many times. Though the spell was simple, its effects were remarkable.
It could significantly enhance concentration and focus, creating a sense that everything was going smoothly.
At that moment, Ron entered this state.
Harry didn't actually want to use Neil's magic casually at Hogwarts. After all, there were many powerful wizards around, and getting caught could be a problem.
But if you don't use it now, you'll lose the game!
The pause was brief, so brief that the Slytherin players hadn't yet recovered from the excitement of having a commanding lead. Eagerly, they launched another attack, only to collide with each other.
Led by their captain, Marcus Flint, the three Slytherin Chasers broke through Gryffindor's defense and sent the Quaffle hurtling toward the farthest goalpost, where temporary Keeper Ron stood.
However, just as the Slytherin crowd was about to cheer, a flash of red streaked across the field. A fiery figure dashed forward, clutching the Quaffle firmly in his arms.
"It was just a fluke! Pure coincidence!" Flint shouted, trying to rally his team after Gryffindor had defended. "That rookie just happened to catch the ball. You saw how terrible he was before!"
The other Slytherin players nodded and attacked again. But once more, their attempt was blocked, this time at the very last second by Ron.
If Gryffindor's crowd hadn't reacted much when Ron stopped the first attack, this time, the entire stadium erupted in cheers.
"Ron! Ron Weasley! Our new Gryffindor Keeper, did you see that? Did you see that?!" Lee Jordan shouted excitedly.
Harry smiled in satisfaction. The effect was unexpectedly good.
He had long known that Ron had extraordinary talent, perhaps even greater than his own, having been praised as a genius by Oliver Wood and Madam Hooch.
But there was one reason Ron struggled to reach his full potential: a lack of confidence.
Maybe it was because he had five older brothers, five exceptionally talented brothers, that Ron had always struggled with self-assurance. Ever since Harry had met him, this insecurity had hindered his performance in almost every aspect.
After missing the first goal, he had panicked and nearly fainted.
But with Renewal, Harry had helped him focus completely, clearing his mind of self-doubt. Once Ron was free from distractions, his true skills shone through.
For the next five minutes, Slytherin tried to score again and again, but failed every time!
Meanwhile, Gryffindor netted three goals, narrowing the gap to just 40 points.
The Slytherin Seeker, who had underestimated Ron, paid the price for his complacency, missing eleven scoring opportunities.
"Ron! Ron! Ron!"
It wasn't clear which save had truly ignited the crowd, but chants of his name rang out across the Gryffindor stands. The young wizards cheered for Ron, who looked like a completely different person, fearless, almost godlike. Their voices reached a fever pitch, repeating his name like a victorious anthem.
Lee Jordan even started composing a song for Ron, but, unfortunately, despite his braided hairstyle, he didn't seem to have any hip-hop talent, at least, not at that moment.
With no need to worry about Ron anymore, Harry refocused on his real task. That was when a golden shimmer in the corner of the stadium caught his eye.
The Golden Snitch.
Harry's eyes lit up instantly. The Slytherin Seeker was still watching him and hadn't noticed the Snitch yet.
This was his chance. Keeping an eye on his opponent's movements, Harry saw that the Snitch was closer to him. He deliberately steered his broom in the opposite direction, trying to divert attention while keeping his gaze locked on the gleaming golden ball.
The Slytherin Seeker finally noticed Harry's movement and immediately followed.
Almost there. Almost there!
Harry calculated the distance, preparing to make a sudden dash and seize the Snitch in one swift motion.
Just as he was about to launch forward, his broom suddenly jerked violently beneath him.
Harry had once played on a mechanical bull, one of those machines designed to buck and throw the rider off.
At that moment, his broomstick gave him the same sensation. It was as if it were trying to shake him off.
Something's wrong. Very wrong.
Harry struggled to control his body, gripping the broom tightly to keep from being thrown off. This had never happened before. Flying broomsticks were highly advanced magical tools, they could even respond to their rider's thoughts to a certain extent.
He had read countless books on Quidditch and had never heard of a broom behaving this way on its own.
In the stands, Hermione, who had been watching Gryffindor's comeback with a smile, suddenly frowned as she looked at Harry in the air. "What's wrong with Harry?"
"I don't know… but something's off," Neville muttered in panic. From their vantage point, it looked as if Harry was on the verge of being thrown off his broom.
"Someone's trying to mess with me!" Harry was cursing in the sky.
His Nimbus 2000 was the latest model, there was no way something could be wrong with it. The only possible explanation was that someone was messing with him.
With no other options, Harry suddenly thought of his magical senses. The broom's violent movements made it incredibly difficult, but with great effort, he finally activated them.
A flying broomstick had its own magical layer, a kind of magical field similar to magnetic lines. Right now, however, a black wave was constantly surging toward his broom, interfering with its magical stability.
Harry struggled to control his body in midair, trying to pinpoint the source of the dark magic.
Then, he saw Snape in the professors' stand.
It was only a brief glance, barely a second, but what he saw shocked him to his core.
The professors' seats were bathed in golden light, and nearly every teacher was surrounded by dazzling platinum-colored magical flames. While most weren't as overwhelming as Professor Flitwick's had been when Harry first saw them, gathered together, they still shone brilliantly.
Among them, one figure stood out, Snape.
The magical flames around him weren't platinum. They were black.
Not only that, but even his mental projection was pitch-black, making him look like some kind of demonic entity.
What stunned Harry even more was that the intensity of Snape's dark magical flames was far greater than that of anyone around him, even stronger than Professor Flitwick's, whom Harry had previously recognized as incredibly powerful.
A violent jolt sent dizziness washing over Harry, making it difficult to maintain his magical senses. But now that he knew what was happening, he had a solution.
Any spell powerful enough to affect a magical broomstick had to be extremely strong.
Hogwarts, or rather, Harry, only had a basic understanding of this world's magical theories.
However, when it came to another world, the Aegean world, Harry had only learned fragments of its magic, yet those fragments were already far more advanced. This spell resembled the effects of mental magic, and mental magic was the most profound knowledge of Aegean magic Harry had acquired.
Based on Harry's experience, while the magic in both worlds manifested differently, their core principles were the same.
In the Aegean world, a spell like this would require a delicate magical structure, one small flaw, and its effect could be disrupted.
Harry had also read in a book that curses needed to be continuously chanted and required the caster to maintain direct focus on the target. That suggested that even in this world, spells of this nature were relatively fragile.
"Well, if I can disrupt even a small part of its magical structure, I can break its effect."
Harry hadn't yet learned how to counter such a spell at Hogwarts. But had discovered a solution buried within Neil memories.
"Magical Surge!"
This was another spell Harry had successfully mastered after Mental Lock. Its original purpose was to break certain types of restricted magic by disrupting both magical and mental energy.
Harry had practiced using it against spells like the Full-Body Bind Curse. He wasn't sure if it would work in this situation, but he had no choice but to try.
With a focused thought, the magic surrounding Harry began to ripple in sync with his mental energy. The waves of magic pulsed, growing stronger with each passing second.
Even though he had deactivated his magical senses, Harry could still vaguely feel that the spell interfering with his broom had started to weaken.
Then, a clearer feedback came, the violent shaking, which had previously felt like a wild horse trying to throw him off, was now far less intense.
"It's working!"
Harry's heart soared. He immediately amplified the magic's vibrations, pushing them even further.
What he didn't know was that while he fought to regain control of his broom, Hermione was scanning the stadium with a telescope.
After surveying the Slytherin stands, her eyes fell on the professors' seating area, then locked onto Snape.
Hermione and Harry had studied books on spells together, so she instantly reached the same conclusion he had.
"I'll be right back. Neville, keep an eye on Harry for me." Gritting her teeth, Hermione handed the telescope to Neville.
"Where are you going?" Neville asked, panicked.
"Help Harry!" Hermione called over her shoulder as she pushed her way through the stands.
"Do you need help?" Parvati asked quickly after overhearing. She didn't know exactly what was happening, but if it meant helping Harry, she was willing.
"No need."
Neville watched anxiously, and in that moment, time seemed to crawl.
The moment Harry regained control of his broom, his body snapped into action. The violent trembling had ceased, but his heart was still pounding. He didn't have time to think about what had just happened. There was only one thought in his mind now, the Snitch.
Still high in the air, he scanned the field, desperately searching for the tiny golden ball.
Then, there it was.
A glimmer of gold flashed just a few feet above the grass, darting through the players like a mischievous firefly.
Without hesitation, Harry leaned forward, gripping his Nimbus 2000 tightly. The moment his body pressed against the broomstick, he felt the familiar rush of the wind whipping against his face.
The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams barely had time to react before a scarlet blur shot through the field. The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps, some shouting his name, others screaming in alarm.
The Slytherin Seeker, finally noticing Harry's movement, kicked off and chased after him. But he was too late. Harry had the lead.
The Snitch was fluttering wildly just a few feet ahead of him, zigzagging in unpredictable patterns, trying to escape. The closer he got, the harder it became to track, but Harry didn't blink.
The ground was coming up fast. If he didn't time this right, he'd crash.
The Snitch made a sharp turn, veering to the left, but Harry was already reacting. He adjusted his grip, tilting his broom slightly.
His fingers stretched forward. The golden wings of the Snitch fluttered furiously, as if realizing it was about to be caught.
Then his hand closed around it.
For a split second, Harry thought he had missed. But then he felt the cool, vibrating metal pressed against his palm. The Snitch struggled in his grasp, its tiny wings flapping uselessly.
The realization hit him just as he felt himself losing balance. His broom was still angled downward, and before he could correct himself.
"WHAM!"
Harry tumbled forward, flipping over his broom and slamming onto the ground with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs. The stadium went silent.
Then, a second later an explosion of cheers.
"HE'S GOT THE SNITCH!" Lee Jordan's voice boomed through the stadium, louder than ever. "HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"
The Gryffindor stands erupted into wild celebration. Students were screaming, jumping, hugging each other. Fred and George Weasley were already sprinting onto the field, punching the air with excitement.
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