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Well, hello you all! I don't like spoiling my own fic, but if I can just drop a little hint without ruining it... I really, really thought a lot about the previous chapter, and it felt like it was rotting my teeth. That is all I am going to say. Give me some feedback you all! Hopefully you enjoy this!
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The next morning, Harry awoke to the anticipation of another Quidditch game against Gryffindor. The excitement in the air was palpable as he made his way to breakfast, where the buzz of conversation centered around the upcoming match. Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry ran deep, and Quidditch matches between them were always intense affairs.
"Nigel," Harry started, his voice still heavy with sleep as he buttered his toast, "today's the big game. Think we'll win?"
Nigel, ever ready with a quip, responded, "Well, unless you plan on flying circles around Gryffindor while blindfolded, I'd say your chances are as good as any. Just remember, Master Harry, it's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game. And how thoroughly you can embarrass the other team, of course."
Harry's high spirit drew Tracey's attention, who was seated next to him. "You seem in good mood, Harry. Nervous about the match?"
Harry shook his head, his smile still lingering. "Just ready to get on the field."
As breakfast concluded, the Slytherin Quidditch team huddled together, a mixture of anticipation and strategy in the air. Harry found himself half-listening to Marcus Flint, the team captain, outlining their plan of attack. It was a familiar routine by now; Marcus would devise elaborate strategies, but in the end, it usually came down to Harry catching the Snitch. His ability to catch the Snitch had become something of a legend in the school, and today's match against Gryffindor was no exception. They all expected him to clinch victory, as he had done so many times before.
"Nigel," Harry mused internally, adjusting his gloves with a smirk, "any pearls of wisdom before I take to the skies? Perhaps a secret strategy to ensure the Snitch flies straight into my hand?"
Nigel's voice was ripe with its usual blend of jest and dryness, "Ah yes, Master Harry, because what you truly need is an advantage. Let's not forget, the Snitch is that elusive golden ball, not the menacing bludger that seems to have a personal vendetta against your head. Confusing the two could be... let's say, less than optimal for your health. I know, it's easy to get them mixed up in the heat of the moment."
As the team took to the skies, Harry, mounted on his custom broomstick painted in the colors of silver and green, waved to the cheering crowd. The new stadium was packed with wizards and witches from all over Britain, drawn by the spectacle of a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Approaching the VIP section, Harry noticed Petunia seated alongside Augusta Longbottom, with the Davis, Greengrass, Abbott families also present, all waving at him from the private room. Neville, Tracey, Daphne, and Astoria, along with Hannah and Susan, were sitting next to their respective parents, cheering for Harry. Despite Neville's Gryffindor allegiance, his support for Harry was unwavering.
After acknowledging their cheers, Nigel inquired, "Is this one of those games where you plan to dazzle, or will you draw it out for dramatic effect?"
Harry smirked, glancing towards where his aunt sat, her eyes filled with pride and anticipation. "My dear Aunt came all this way to see me play. Let's not disappoint her; let's put on a show."
Nigel hummed in agreement, already concocting a plan. "What do you have in mind, Master Harry?"
Harry's response was filled with mischief. "As soon as the game starts, create a map showing all the players and their flight paths. Mark each ball in the game, and keep 30% of my consciousness on the Snitch at all times, pinging me if the opposing Seeker gets too close. Other than that, let's make this interesting."
As the match commenced, Nigel meticulously executed Harry's instructions. The virtual map overlaying Harry's vision allowed him to anticipate his opponents' moves with uncanny precision. Harry flew with a calculated grace that bewildered both teams. He wasn't just playing Quidditch; he was orchestrating it.
With the Slytherin team in possession of the Quaffle, Harry positioned himself strategically between the Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood, and the approaching Chasers. It appeared as if Harry was simply positioning himself for a potential interception or to provide a distraction. However, his true intent was far more cunning. As Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, prepared to take a shot, Harry used his broom's nimble maneuvers to momentarily block Wood's line of sight to the Quaffle. To the spectators, it seemed as though Harry was simply positioning himself to intercept a pass. However, his true intention was to block Oliver Wood's view of the Quaffle. At the last possible moment, Harry accelerated upwards, just as Flint threw the Quaffle. Wood, whose vision was obscured until that moment, had barely any time to react, resulting in an easy score for Slytherin.
Similarly, the Weasley twins, known for their impeccable coordination as Beaters, encountered unexpected difficulties. Every time they aimed a Bludger towards a Slytherin player, Harry would subtly align himself in their path. To the twins and the Gryffindor spectators, it appeared as though the Bludgers were inexplicably changing direction mid-flight. In reality, Harry's precise positioning caused the twins to miscalculate their swings, resulting in the Bludgers veering off course and missing their intended targets. This manipulation not only neutralized the threat of the Bludgers to the Slytherin team but also sowed confusion among the Gryffindor players, who couldn't understand why their Bludgers seemed to have a mind of their own.
Throughout the match, Harry's interventions were so subtle and seamlessly integrated into the flow of the game that even the most attentive observers struggled to pinpoint exactly how he was influencing the play. His movements were a blur, a testament to his skill and the effectiveness of the virtual map in guiding his actions.
In one particularly audacious maneuver, Harry noticed a Gryffindor Chaser breaking away with the Quaffle, aiming for a clear shot at the goal. Recognizing the threat, he darted across the pitch, positioning himself directly in the path of the Chaser at the critical moment. To the Chaser, Harry appeared to be challenging for the Quaffle, forcing a hasty and poorly aimed shot. However, Harry's actual objective was to obscure the Chaser's view of the goalposts, causing the shot to miss wide—a feat that left the crowd gasping and the Gryffindor team bewildered.
As the match progressed, Harry's tactics of visual masking became a key factor in Slytherin's dominance. His ability to anticipate and subtly alter the course of the game through strategic positioning underscored his deep understanding of Quidditch strategy and his exceptional flying skills. It was a performance that would be remembered as one of the most clever and tactically astute in Hogwarts' Quidditch history, showcasing Harry Potter not just as a talented Seeker, but as a master of the game in every sense.
Neville, always the loyal Gryffindor, found himself torn, his allegiance to his house battling the awe he felt watching Harry's prowess on the Quidditch pitch. He couldn't help but join in the applause, his cheer a testament to the remarkable skill displayed by Harry. "Blimey, Harry's flying is something else!"
Petunia, who had ventured into this magical world with little understanding of its customs or sports, was completely taken aback by her nephew's incredible performance. As she watched Harry soar and maneuver with an elegance she never knew existed, a swell of pride rose within her. Surrounded by the magic of Hogwarts and its passionate students, her applause was not just a gesture of support but a heartfelt acknowledgment of Harry's talents and the surprising world he belonged to.
Tracey and Daphne were on the edge of their seats, their voices hoarse from cheering as they watched the Quidditch match unfold from the VIP room, where they, along with Hannah and Susan, had a clear view of the action.
Tracey, unable to contain her excitement, leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. "Did you see that move? Harry's flying as if he was born on a broom! But, Merlin's beard, my heart can't take much more of this suspense!"
Daphne, her eyes fixed on the game, nodded vigorously, her voice filled with the thrill of the match. "Absolutely, it's like watching a dance in the air! Though, I must admit, every time he dodges a Bludger, I feel like I lose a year off my life."
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