Chapter 438: Dismissing the Governor
By the final day before the Easter break, the tension between the two teams—and the two Houses—had reached a literal boiling point.
Minor scuffles broke out in the corridors, the worst of which resulted in a fourth-year Gryffindor and a sixth-year Slytherin being sent to the hospital wing. When Madam Pomfrey finished with them, both boys had thick, healthy leeks sprouting from their ears.
Harry's life was particularly miserable. On his way to his final lessons, Slytherins would constantly stick out their feet to trip him. No matter where he went, Crabbe and Goyle seemed to manifest from the shadows, though they would slink away in disappointment whenever they saw Harry was surrounded by Justin, Hermione, and the others.
Oliver Wood was immensely relieved that Harry had such a dedicated circle of protectors. It was the only thing ensuring his Seeker wouldn't be hexed into missing the match.
The match was about to begin.
Justin was frantically tapping his Magic Hand Mirror, but he received no response. He and Hermione were forced to turn their attention to the pitch, where Harry looked as though he were ready to eat Draco Malfoy alive. Ron was nearby, shouting himself hoarse, essentially demanding that Malfoy be made to pay for every slight.
The Gryffindor team emerged from the locker rooms and marched onto the pitch to a literal wall of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet rosettes, waving red banners emblazoned with the Gryffindor lion, or brandishing signs that read: "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS SQUASH SNAKES!"
Behind the Slytherin goalposts, however, two hundred supporters were draped in emerald green, the silver serpent shimmering on their flags.
"Gryffindor takes the field!" Lee Jordan bellowed into his magically amplified megaphone. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, the Weasley brothers, and Wood! With Ravenclaw currently missing their absolute core player, this is widely considered the finest team Hogwarts has seen in years—"
Lee's commentary was momentarily drowned out by a wave of boos and hisses from the Slytherin end of the stadium.
"And here comes the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint! He's made a few tactical adjustments to the roster, appearing to favor sheer bulk over actual skill—"
The jeers from the Slytherins grew even louder, but Harry found himself agreeing with Lee. Malfoy was visibly the smallest person on the opposing team; the rest of the players were built like stone walls.
"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch commanded.
Flint and Wood stepped forward, their hands interlocking in a grip so tight it looked as though they were trying to crush one another's fingers.
"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch called. "Three... two... one..."
The struggle erupted instantly.
"Gryffindor in possession! Alicia Spinnet has the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goals—looking good, Alicia! Ah, no—intercepted by Warrington. Slytherin's Warrington is streaking down the pitch—WHOA!
"Splendid Bludger work by George Weasley! Warrington drops the Quaffle—Johnson nabs it! Gryffindor back in control. Come on, Angelina—beautiful move, dances right past Montague—watch it, Angelina, Bludger!—SHE SCORES! Ten-zero to Gryffindor!"
Lee Jordan's commentary remained at a fever pitch. Angelina performed a victory lap around the hoops, punching the air as a sea of scarlet erupted in cheers below her.
THUD!
"Ouch!" Angelina nearly spiraled off her broom as Marcus Flint slammed into her with unnecessary force.
"Sorry!" Flint shouted over the boos of the crowd. "Didn't see her!"
Seconds later, Fred Weasley retaliated by swinging his bat and connecting squarely with the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into his broom handle, and blood began to spray.
"ENOUGH!" Madam Hooch shrieked, zooming between them. "Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on a Chaser! And a penalty to Slytherin for intentional injury to a Chaser!"
"Oh, come off it, Madam!" Fred yelled, but the whistle had already blown. Alicia flew forward to take the shot.
"Come on, Alicia!" Lee shouted into the sudden hush of the stadium. "YES! She's past the Keeper! Twenty-zero to Gryffindor!"
Harry banked his Nimbus 2000, watching a bloodied Flint fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood stood before the Gryffindor hoops, his jaw set in a grim line.
"Wood's a world-class Keeper, obviously!" Lee told the crowd as Flint waited for the whistle. "Top notch! Nearly impossible to beat—truly—YES! HE'S SAVED IT!"
Harry let out a breath of relief and shot upward, scanning the air for the Snitch while keeping one ear on Lee's commentary. Seeing Malfoy drifting nearby, Harry took advantage of a blind spot and delivered a sharp elbow to the Slytherin's ribs, knocking him off balance.
Harry intended to keep the pressure on. He wouldn't let Malfoy anywhere near the Snitch until Gryffindor had secured a fifty-point lead. Malfoy was still blinking in shock when Harry's second elbow connected.
"Good man, Harry! That's the way!" Ron cheered from the stands, jumping up and down.
Hermione and Justin, however, watched with growing worry as the "play" between Harry and Malfoy became increasingly violent. It looked less like a game and more like a high-altitude duel.
"Gryffindor has the Quaffle—no, Slytherin takes it—wait!—Gryffindor has it back! Katie Bell is streaking toward the goals—that was intentional!"
Montague, the Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie. Instead of reaching for the ball, he had grabbed her by the head. Katie performed a dizzying mid-air somersault, barely managing to stay on her broom, but the Quaffle was lost.
Madam Hooch's whistle shrieked again. She flew toward Montague, her voice rising in a sharp reprimand. A minute later, Katie buried the penalty.
"Thirty-zero! Take that, you low-down, cheating—"
"Jordan! If you cannot maintain a neutral commentary—" McGonagall's voice warned.
"I'm just stating the facts, Professor!"
The commentary box was in as much chaos as the pitch.
In a quiet corner of the stands, Sean watched the carnage unfold. He saw Harry "elbowing" his way to victory, preventing Malfoy from even spotting the Snitch.
Suddenly, his Magic Hand Mirror rippled. Justin's face appeared in the glass, his anxious expression smoothing out the moment he saw Sean.
"Did you get my message, Sean? You've known about this the whole time, haven't you?" Justin asked urgently.
"Mmm," Sean replied.
He and Professor Dumbledore had never stopped investigating the Malfoy family's business dealings. Finally, very recently, they had found the loose thread they needed. It wasn't enough to land Lucius in a cell—not yet—but it was more than enough to force his resignation from the Board of Governors. A series of formal inquiries were being opened that would keep him far too busy to cause any further trouble for the school.
On the pitch, Harry was a storm of fury.
Below the pitch, Sean stood beside Dumbledore, the picture of calm.
"I am pleased to see you understand the utility of the rules," Dumbledore noted with a smile.
"It's simply a different form of combat, Professor," Sean said softly.
[End of Chapter 438]
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