Bab 551: Chapter 551 Quidditch and strong emotions
Hermione stood in front of the entrance to the locker room, constantly glancing around as the snowflakes from the sky accumulated in a thick layer on her hat.
She let out a breath of cold air and stomped her feet as she felt like freezing.
"I forgot my thermostatic locket ... oh yes, Focillo!" She pulled out her wand and pointed it at herself, and in an instant a wave of warmth spread through her body as if she was sitting next to a roaring fireplace in the common room, and she couldn't help but yawn.
The door to the locker room opened.
Katie was the first to come out, looking listless, followed by Fred and George, their shoulders slumped as if they are about to head to a doomed battlefield, and Angelina's vexed voice came from the doorway of the locker room, "Well Harry, you talk him through it and I hope for the best ... "
Harry responded vaguely after which Angelina came out with a numb face and her expression grew even more bizarre, Hermione thought. Angelina looked dead, just a husk wandering around.
When Hermione walked in, Ron was sitting in the corner of the locker room. Harry stared at him.
"What's the matter, everyone's not in a particularly positive spirit for the upcoming match? Oh, ah, uh-"
Hermione stepped past Harry to see Ron leaning back on the bench, his eyes dull with gloom, his face ashen as he stared at the ceiling with lost eyes.
Harry passed Hermione a look.
At that moment, Ron suddenly moved, so deftly that Harry and Hermione were taken aback.
"Harry quickly cast the Cheering Charm on me." He asked in an eager tone.
"What?" Harry looked at him with a bewildered expression.
"The Cheering Charm," Ron said, his lips slightly purple from the cold, "it's the only way out, it's what I've been thinking about all morning."
"What's going on?"
Ron sat back slowly, "I admit I got a little nervous, just a little ... well, a lot. Harry, I boasted a lot and also praised by many, Angelina said I am no worse than Wood and Professor McGonagall exempted me from my Transfiguration class assignment ..."
"Can't you sum it up in one sentence?" Hermione snapped impatiently.
"I'm afraid I can't defend a single goal." Ron stammered, "It's weird, this thought didn't cross my mind in the slightest before, but when I woke up this morning it hit me all of a sudden, I tried to cheer myself up by walking around the Black Lake twice, but things got worse and worse, I now have cold hands and feet, dizziness, panic attacks, and nausea ... "
"That's because you haven't eaten a single thing this morning!" Harry snapped irritably.
"Yeah, but I don't think it would have made any difference even if I had eaten ... " Ron said in a hoarse voice.
"I don't think so. If you're worried about underperforming, there's absolutely no need for that, it's your opponent who should be more worried." Hermione encouraged him, "The Slytherin keeper is a fool, what's his name again?"
"Miles Bletchley. " Harry chipped in.
To be fair, he would say that Bletchley would play well, but when Bletchley had attempted to hex ball-chaser Alicia in the corridor two days ago without success, Fred and George had let it slip that they wouldn't let him walk off the Quidditch pitch in one piece. Well, Harry of course sided with them in this.
Harry went along with Hermione's words of comfort, "Yeah, think about it, Slytherin's team sucks this year, Flint's gone and their new captain is Montague, you know what he's like -"
"I saw him shouting at the players when I came over, with his sleeves rolled up high, showing a pair of hairy arms, and I thought he was carrying two hairy hams." Hermione said meanly.
Ron grinned with a stiff expression.
"Their beaters are new too - Montague recruited Crabbe and Goyle into the mix, and I don't know why he did, since they're so stupid that they can't even tell the difference between the front and back of a broomstick." Harry continued.
Ron rolled his eyes.
"Honestly, I don't know what you have to worry about," Hermione said with annoyance, "A quidditch game is nothing more than a child's play, a, well, just a game, compared to all the adventures you've been through."
Harry and Ron both glared at Hermione at the same time, angry at her slip of the tongue. Hermione waved her hands in some embarrassment, "I didn't mean to look down on Quidditch-"
" Yes, you are!" Ron suddenly snapped out, "You just don't like Quidditch."
It was Hermione's turn to glare at him.
Ron ducked his head.
Hermione continued, "Think of all the adventures you've been through, trolls, three-headed dog, basilisk, dark wizards, dragon, merpeople, Death Eaters, Voldemort ..." she made a long list and finally concluded, "Compared to those, one Quidditch defeat is really not worth mentioning."
Harry felt that they couldn't compare it that way, some things are not dangerous, but they are equally difficult, but he wasn't going to upset Hermione, that would be purely asking for trouble and would do no good except triggering it further. So he said against his will, "Yeah."
Ron stood up as if he had come to life again, "Good point ... Hermione, do you have any food on you?"
"No." Hermione said dully.
"Don't lie to me," Ron said with certainty, "you certainly have a bunch of food in your little beaded pouch."
Hermione reluctantly pulled out a bag of compressed crisps and tossed it to him.
Ron tore open the packet and gobbled it up, Harry gulped, he had eaten very little this morning too, not because he was nervous but because he didn't want to eat too much to affect his form.
"Boys, how did your talk go?" Angelina poked her head in through the locker room door.
Harry gestured no problem and fought with Ron for the last bit of crisps.
Angelina's expression froze a little, "Looks like you guys are really okay, then hurry up and come out, it's time to start with your preparations. Can you guys bear to let three girls face seven gorillas?"
"Fred and George are also here." Ron said vaguely, as crisp crumbs splattered.
"I don't know if I can count on them, they're both posing for pictures with the Professor's Niffler. You have one more minute." She disappeared.
"Come on." Harry said.
"Wait." Hermione took out her wand and pointed it toward both of them and their bodies immediately became warm as if they had been surrounded by a burning cauldron.
"What spell did you use?" Harry asked.
"The Warming Charm." Hermione said.
It dawned on Harry. Familiar memories suddenly flooded his mind as he remembered that it was also a winter day when they had trudged through thick snow to Hagrid's hut, and on the way, Professor Hap had explained the Warming Charm to them, and only Hermione was in the mood to ask questions even as she was freezing and shivering, while he was more focused on the gossip of Sirius' school days at that time.
The story was titled 'The Gryffindor Freshman and the Hufflepuff Prefect'.
Now one of the protagonists of the story had become a professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts, and the other one had become a Minister of Magic. Harry was in a bit of a trance, even if he hadn't been there, he still felt fantastic, and understood Mafalda's thoughts somewhat. At that moment someone nudged him from the side.
"Stop dazing and be an example to next year's new players." Hermione said.
Harry grinned.
Snowflakes drifted from the sky, condensing into a single ice crystalline as they fell to the ground, and the icy wind gusted against them as Felix sat in the grandstand, enjoying the warm atmosphere in contrast to the weather. Valen sat on his shoulder, clutching her precious wand. Her two little feet flopped around.
"Nice hat, you're fashion sense improved."
Valen's mood got even better.
Felix quietly opened his palm and a suction came out of it, and for a moment a little wizard on the stand felt a chill run down his spine.
"Why it has become a little cold?" A student asked in frustration.
"Isn't it always cold," the boy next to him said, "Look, the two teams are starting to shake hands. The match is about to start!"
The two teams are greeted with thunderous cheers as the emotions that have been building up all year spill out at this moment, and Felix quietly increases the suction as the full, rousing, enthusiastic, joyous emotions converge in his hands and he looked like a dementor hiding in the crowd.
Only the emotions he took in were few compared to them, and the students shivered at best, then became more enthusiastic and applauded immediately afterward. As Felix's study into the magical gifts of magical creatures deepened, it is only natural for him to gain an understanding of the properties of the magic within them.
It is a type of magic that distinctly differs from the magic within a wizard.
To be precise, the properties of the magic within each magical creature varied, and Felix guessed that the magic is clearly influenced by the structure of their own bodies.
'The magical creatures' gifts come from their bodies, while the wizards' originates from their souls, or rather, it is the wizards' souls that are the most special - the ghosts are inherently endowed with a certain amount of magic power and can manipulate water and fire slightly - when the soul and the body combine, a constant source of magical power is created ...'
"That's just a guess." Felix raised his head and looked at the centre of the venue.
The captains of both teams stepped forward to shake hands, Valen shouted and gestured with a small wooden wand as the whistle blew and the match was officially begun.
Fourteen players soared into the air, so fast that they were soon transformed into a blur of shadows in the snowy sky. As usual, it is Lee Jordan who stands on the raised platform and provides commentary for the crowd.
"The match begins. Johnson was the first to grab the ball, but of course, she only weighed barely one-half, or maybe one-third, of the opposite player. After a year, there are new faces on both sides, Gryffindor has added a new keeper, a rather crucial position; Slytherin has added two new beaters on their side. ... Look! Johnson passed the two, is she about to charge? Oops, what a shame, it was so close."
"The Quaffle is now in Slytherin's hands, Warrington is charging towards the goal, there's no one in front of Warrington and the Bludgers are nowhere to be seen near, it's just the Gryffindor keeper! He's new to the team - oops!"
Harry rushed to look at the goal as Ron pounced actively, his fingers brushed against the Quaffle, but he failed to catch it. Harry thought he heard an audible gasp as he closed his eyes in despair.
"Awesome! The ball is intercepted! Good job, I must say, a great start-" Lee Jordan said excitedly.
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall shouted from the side wing.
"Noted for the next time Professor, let's get back to the match, Ron defended, good start, now it's Gryffindor's turn to attack, Fred and George are both near the Slytherin goal, I know it's not much of a tactic, as they told me privately, ahem ..."
Harry didn't listen any further, he looked at the goal with wide eyes, Ron is swinging his fist excitedly and from the trajectory of the Quaffle, it looked like his hand should have changed the direction of the Quaffle and made it miss as it grazed the goal.
Harry's heart burst with excitement, as he knew that for Ron, the first goal would be the riskiest. Ron's biggest weakness is that he would lose confidence when he makes a mistake, and if he didn't guard the first goal, he would get flustered and end up giving even more goals. This was the data Ginny had provided and Harry chose to believe it.
He began to direct his broom to fly, the snow getting heavier, his vision becoming unclear, and he got nearly hit by Bludger twice. Fred and George, after making sure Ron's side didn't need help, seemed ready to fulfil their pre-match promise, then the two of the three chasers aimed their ball at the Slytherin keeper, and although they missed once, Bletchley got freaked out, and gave away two goals in panic.
The match got more and more intense and by the time Harry brushed past Draco Malfoy for the third time, he had literally counted the number of blisters on Malfoy's lips and Malfoy's expression looked like he was sleepwalking, which rivalled Luna's.
Finally, the referee, Madam Hooch, blew her whistle as Harry hovered high in the air and looked down at Katie, who appeared to be wrestling with Warrington, her head caught in Warrington's thick arms, and the broomstick under her arse gone missing.
"Foul!" Madam Hooch shouted in anger.
After helping Katie get her broom back for a bit, Harry took the opportunity to fly over to Ron, "How's it going?"
"Not bad," Ron said, "I blocked five balls and missed three, I'm almost getting a hang of it." He said with a happy grin, "But the opposite side was worse, Fred and George stuck with Bletchley and made him miss the goals."
"Beware of them doing the same to you." Harry warned him.
Ron looked uneasily toward the Slytherin team as Montague spoke to Crabbe and Goyle with his arms around their shoulder, from this angle they looked identical in stature, like triplets. Crabbe and Goyle blinked stupidly in their direction.
"Can I use my wand?" Ron asked uneasily, "I'll be unable to resist hexing if they come flocking at me at once."
"Then you'll get sent off, and we'll be finished." Harry said.
The match continued.
Harry decided to end the match as soon as possible, the situation would get more complicated as time stretched on. He flew high into the air and looked down from a few hundred feet, the wind and snow growing heavier, the effect of the warming charm wearing off a little, and finding a small ball the size of a walnut was exceptionally difficult in those conditions. He circled twice in vain and saw Mafalda sketching a crooked drawing of a snake with horns in the audience, and Harry looked at it twice, deciding that he should tease her hard about it later when he had the chance.
Lee Jordan's commentary burrowed into his ears every now and then, "The score is very close - both teams seem to be playing with each other's keepers to score a goal, I don't know if this could be considered a new tactic, but in future, the keepers have to be more careful - Adrian Pucey got the Quaffle-"
Harry finally saw it: the golden snitch is hovering near the Gryffindor goal.
Crabbe and Goyle flanked Ron from both sides, followed by Adrian Pucey behind them in a triangular formation - seemingly trying to replicate the tactics used by Gryffindor in the first half - and Ron grimaced, suspecting that he would be squashed by both of them if he didn't use his magic now. That's when his eyes suddenly lit up by the sight of Harry swooping down from high above.
A warmth welled up in Ron's heart, Harry is coming to his rescue! The tempo at that moment seemed to settle into a proper rhythm, he could think of countless times when he was in a similar situation when Harry came to his rescue, he just needed to be at ease and do his own thing - but why everyone got so noisy all of a sudden? - Ron lunged forward and deflected the Quaffle. At the same time, he heard the wind whistling in his ears as Harry hovered upwards with the golden snitch in his hand.
The stadium resounded with enthusiastic cheers, and the Lion Cap that Luna wore on her head roared through the chilly air, causing Valen to flinch in surprise at the sight.
"The match is over."
Felix shook his head, the Slytherin team this term is indeed terrible and their coordination was even more problematic. Not that it mattered much to him though, he had taken the opportunity to gather one last sample of emotion and prepared to go back and study it.
It would be difficult for one man to create emotions that he hadn't experienced before, and especially he couldn't create a collective emotion as strong as this one on a Quidditch pitch.
In the evening, a coin that Felix kept close to him suddenly became piping hot.
Is it the house-elf, Bondi, after almost a week of time, has the man in Nurmengard Castle finally made up his mind?
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