Chapter 161: The Curse
Angelina dived like a rocket, the Quaffle zigzagging sharply in her grasp.
"Pass it to me!"
The shout of Alicia Spinnet cut through the rain—but the moment she caught the ball, she was slammed off course by Adrian Pucey, spinning wildly in midair.
Madam Rolanda Hooch's whistle pierced the noise.
"Slytherin foul! Penalty!"
The Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers, but Oliver Wood's face was darker than the storm clouds above.
As Alicia prepared to take the penalty, three Slytherin players suddenly formed a triangle formation and closed in on her.
The rushing wind from their accelerating brooms stirred the rain into mist.
Under pressure, Alicia threw with all her strength—the Quaffle cut through the rain like a phantom and plunged cleanly through Slytherin's hoop.
"Ten to zero!" roared Lee Jordan.
The Gryffindor crowd exploded in thunderous cheers.
On the Slytherin side, however, the stands fell into an eerie silence.
Faces turned grim.
Draco Malfoy looked as if the world had ended. He had wanted Flint to recognize that even first-years could be exceptional—but he had never wanted to see Slytherin actually lose.
Through the rain, Harry Potter weaved through the air.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Pucey signaling to Bole. The two Chasers suddenly abandoned the Quaffle and closed in on him from both sides.
At that very moment—
A flash of gold shimmered just below his left ear.
The Golden Snitch was circling near the Slytherin keeper's head!
Harry slammed the broom downward in a steep dive. Wind roared in his ears as the Nimbus 2000 creaked ominously beneath him.
Suddenly—
A Slytherin player, Terence Higgs, swept alongside him, his broom deliberately scraping Harry's.
The metal footrest hooked the tail of Harry's broom.
"Watch out!"
Angelina's warning was swallowed by the rain.
Harry felt the broom drop half a foot.
"Dirty trick!"
Lee Jordan's voice boomed across the pitch.
"The Slytherin Seeker is using his broom like a pair of scissors—but Potter—!"
Before he could finish—
Harry twisted sharply, executing a reverse braking maneuver Wood had drilled into him. Higgs shot forward, unable to stop in time.
The Snitch flickered near the Slytherin goalposts.
As Harry dove again, he caught sight of Flint elbowing Alicia aside.
At the same time, George Weasley sent a perfectly curved Bludger smashing into Bole's attempted throw.
"Seventy to forty!" Lee shouted. "Wood saves it!"
Seizing the moment while Higgs couldn't turn in time, Harry lunged toward the Snitch.
He reached out—
But suddenly—
A sharp whistling sound tore through the air from afar.
His instincts screamed danger.
Harry yanked the broom upward and stopped abruptly midair.
A Bludger streaked past—
It slammed directly into the Golden Snitch, knocking it deep into the rain where it vanished from sight.
Harry turned.
Wednesday had just glanced at him coldly before accelerating toward the Bludger again.
With another powerful strike, she sent it hurtling straight back at him.
She had already realized—
If Slytherin's Chasers couldn't beat Harry fairly, then victory would depend on how effectively she could interfere.
Harry dodged one Bludger after another—
Then suddenly—
His broom began to tremble violently.
His body dropped sharply.
His fingers dug into the wooden handle as his knees clamped tightly around the seat.
Cold sweat slid down past his glasses and into his collar.
The broom began to thrash wildly in midair, like a maddened, untamed beast.
He tried to dive toward the goal—
But the broom refused to obey.
It felt as though it had been seized by an unseen force.
Each violent jolt made his grip slip against the wet handle.
His robes whipped upward in the wind—
And the Nimbus 2000 spun uncontrollably beneath him.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Bole and Pucey worked together smoothly and scored two more goals.
The Slytherin stands erupted in cheers.
Meanwhile, Harry's broom was climbing higher and higher, trembling violently among the clouds. Only a handful of people in the stands noticed something was wrong.
Rubeus Hagrid clutched his binoculars, his hands beginning to shake.
"Harry wouldn't be pullin' stunts at a time like this… would he?"
Suddenly—
A collective gasp swept through the crowd.
Harry's broom flipped end over end three times in midair. He was now hanging on with just one hand, swinging helplessly from the tail.
Seamus Finnigan tugged at Hagrid's coat.
"Could Flint have damaged his broom during that collision just now?"
"No broom just goes mad like that," Hagrid said, his throat tight.
"Unless… it's been cursed."
Hearing this, Hermione Granger suddenly snatched the binoculars and turned them toward the teachers' stand.
Ron saw her fingernails digging into the leather casing.
"It's Snape!" she hissed.
"He's staring at Harry—he's casting a spell!"
Through the lens, Severus Snape was indeed fixated on Harry, his lips moving silently.
"Stop him," Ron said hoarsely.
Hermione had already grabbed her robes and rushed toward the stairs. The brass binoculars rolled off the bench and clattered to the floor.
Seeing Harry's broom malfunction, Wednesday paused for a moment.
Then she stopped targeting him entirely.
Instead, she redirected her attack—
The Bludger slammed toward Alicia, nearly knocking her off her broom.
"Addams, why aren't you targeting Potter?"
Cyrian Rosier flew past her, turning his head with a dark expression.
Wednesday ignored him completely.
She simply pulled her broom upward and distanced herself.
That indifference only made Rosier's anger burn hotter.
"Fine. If you won't do it—then I will."
He seized the opportunity, swinging his bat and sending a Bludger hurtling toward the back of Harry's head.
As the Bludger closed in—
And Harry still dangled helplessly from his broom—
Rosier couldn't help but grin.
As long as Potter is taken out, this match is ours.
But just as he anticipated Harry's fall—
Two figures suddenly appeared in front of Harry.
The Weasley twins.
"Sorry about that, Rosier," said George Weasley, smashing the Bludger straight back.
He even threw Rosier a mocking gesture.
Rosier's face twisted with rage. For a moment, he almost charged forward for a direct fight.
But he quickly calmed down.
Two against one—he wouldn't stand a chance in a close fight.
He had no choice but to hold back.
"Harry, come over here!"
The Weasley twins tried to pull Harry toward them, to bring him onto one of their brooms.
But it was impossible.
Every time they got close, Harry's broom shot upward again violently.
So instead, they dropped slightly below him, circling—clearly preparing to catch him if he fell.
Meanwhile, Hermione forced her way through the crowd and reached the teachers' stand.
In her haste, she accidentally knocked into Quirinus Quirrell, muttering a quick apology under her breath without stopping.
Her wand flicked.
A jet of blue flame burst from its tip—
Landing precisely on the hem of Snape's black robes.
Snape didn't react at first.
Only when the fire climbed toward his waist did he suddenly jump in alarm.
By then—
Hermione had already extinguished the flames and slipped her wand back into her sleeve as if nothing had happened.