bacchusnovels Chapter 324 Dark Eyes
Chapter 324 Dark Eyes
Chapter 324 Dark Eyes
Harry rose rapidly, trying to steady his Nimbus 2000 in the gale, but the wind was too strong, and the broom kept shaking and veering off course in the air.
He gritted his teeth, desperately trying to concentrate, squinting his eyes to try and see the thief's trail through the rain.
In just five minutes, Harry was soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to his skin, and he was so cold he was almost numb.
He could barely see his teammates; everything around him seemed to be in chaos, making it impossible to distinguish between teammates and opponents.
Those red or yellow figures flashed by in the wind and rain, and Harry had no idea how the match was going. The wind howled past, drowning out the cheers and comments, and the crowd seemed to be buried in a sea of cloaks and umbrellas, almost invisible.
Harry was still shaken by the several close calls.
He was nearly hit by the ball, but because the rain blurred his glasses, he didn't see the dangerous ball fly past him.
He completely lost his sense of time. The sky grew darker and darker, as if night had fallen early, which made him increasingly anxious.
Several times, he nearly bumped into other team members—whether they were teammates or opponents, he couldn't tell at all. The rain was so heavy that everyone looked like they had been pulled out of the water, blurred into a blur.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder, and Ms. Huo Qi's whistle rang out.
Through the thick curtain of rain, Harry could vaguely see Wood waving at him, signaling him to land. On the slippery mud, the team members landed one after another, splashing mud and water.
"I called a timeout!" Woodchong's players shouted, their voices almost swallowed by the wind and rain. "Quick, come over here and take shelter—"
They scrambled under a large umbrella by the field, the group practically huddled together. Harry hurriedly took off his glasses, wiping the raindrops off with his robes, his heart pounding with anxiety.
"What's the score?" he asked anxiously.
"We're up by fifty points," Wood said loudly, his brow furrowed, "but unless we catch the thief soon, this game could go on until midnight."
"With these glasses on, there's no way I can catch the thief," Harry said, waving the glasses in his hand, a hint of despair in his voice.
Just then, Sofia appeared beside him, her head covered by a cloak, and for some reason, she had a big smile on her face.
"I have an idea, Harry! Give me the glasses, quick!"
Harry handed the glasses to Sophia.
Under the astonished gazes of her teammates, Sofia gently tapped her glasses with her wand and said, "Waterproof and moisture-proof!"
"Here you go!" she said, handing the glasses back to Harry. "Now you're not afraid of water!"
Wood looked like he was about to kiss her.
"That was fantastic!" he shouted hoarsely at Sofia's retreating figure as she ran back into the crowd. "Alright, everyone, let's go!"
Sophia's spell is truly effective.
Harry was still frozen stiff and soaked to the bone, but he could see again. He made up his mind and steered his broom through the raging storm, scanning the area for the thief. He dodged a bouncing ball, ducked under a flying Diggory, and then a thunderclap followed by a zigzag of lightning streaking across the sky. The situation was growing increasingly dangerous; Harry knew he had to catch the thief as soon as possible.
He turned to rush back to the center of the field, but just then, a blinding flash of lightning suddenly tore through the dark clouds, illuminating the entire stands as if it were daytime. His gaze was inadvertently drawn to something—a pair of cold, unyielding eyes, so deep they seemed to have no end.
When Harry met those emotionless eyes, his heart skipped a beat, his chest felt as if it were being pressed down by a powerful force, his head spun, and a chilling wind seemed to sweep through his mind.
His fingers suddenly slipped on the broom handle, his frozen fingertips could no longer hold onto the familiar Nimbus 2000, and he plummeted down with the broom, his body swaying several feet.
The wind howled, carrying icy rain, and the wolf slapped his face hard.
He struggled to steady the broom, tried to shake off the wet bangs that were blocking his vision, and forced himself to look at the stands again, wanting to confirm who those eyes belonged to.
However, that dark, chilling gaze had vanished, as if it had never been there.
"Harry!" Wood's pained cry came from the Gryffindor goal. "Harry, behind you!"
Harry shook his head violently, his mind clearing. His gaze swept across the rain, and he saw Cedric Diggory's figure rapidly crossing the pitch. In the torrential rain between them, a tiny, glittering golden dot—the Snitch—was shimmering faintly.
Harry's heart tightened, and he quickly ducked down, pressing himself against the broom, and charged straight at the thief.
"Faster!" he growled, the rain lashing his face like knives. "Faster!"
As he was giving it his all, a strange feeling suddenly descended upon him.
An eerie silence suddenly fell over the entire stadium. Although the wind continued to howl, the sound seemed to have been abruptly cut off.
It was as if someone had suddenly turned off the world's volume.
All Harry could hear was a stifling silence, as if he had suddenly become deaf.
Immediately, a familiar yet terrifying chill began to slowly creep up his spine, coiling around him like a venomous snake. His heart clenched, and the icy sensation pierced his chest.
At the same time, he vaguely realized that something was moving on the field.
Harry involuntarily averted his gaze from the Snitch, looking down at the pitch. At least a hundred Dementors stood slowly along the sidelines, their faces hidden beneath hoods, silently gazing at the sky, staring intently at Harry. A chilling, watery cold seemed to surge into Harry from all directions, seeping into his very flesh.
It ripped open his internal organs.
Just then, a sharp voice pierced his mind again—a woman's cry, all too familiar: "Don't touch Harry! Please, don't touch Harry!"
"Get out of the way, you stupid woman, get out of my way!"
"Don't touch Harry, kill me, just kill me—"
His mind was filled with desperate screams, and white mist spread out, eroding his consciousness.
His hand gradually loosened its grip on the broom, and he began to vaguely think: What am I doing? Why am I flying? She needs me.
She was dying. Harry felt his consciousness growing increasingly blurred, the world around him becoming distant and empty, with only the woman's screams echoing in his mind, growing louder and more desperate.
His body began to sway weakly.
Just as Harry's consciousness began to fade and his body swayed precariously, several dazzling white lights suddenly flashed out from the audience seats, piercing through the heavy rain.
The white light pierced swiftly like a sharp arrow towards the Dementors standing on the sidelines, the intense light dispelling their suffocating chill.
"Protect the Gods!"
With a deep and firm voice, Harry saw a huge silver guardian rush towards the Dementors, a barrier of light in the air preventing the Dementors from getting closer.
The Dementors emitted chilling screechs and gradually retreated until they were finally driven away completely.
Harry blinked groggily, his consciousness slowly returning.
His vision cleared up a bit, and looking down, he saw the enormous silver guardian, like a protective radiance, encircling the stadium.
Its shape is extremely familiar; it is a lithe, silver beast.
"Potter!" A frantic shout came from afar, and then Harry's body was suddenly supported by an invisible force, and his shaky Nimbus 2000 was stabilized in the air.
Professor Sean suddenly emerged from the crowd, wand in hand, his face a mixture of anxiety and determination. He swiftly waved his wand, unleashing another silver glint that instantly banished the Dementors. Then, he soared into the air and firmly grasped Harry's broom.
"Harry, wake up!" Sean whispered, gripping the tail of Nimbus 2000 firmly with one hand and gently patting Harry's shoulder with the other.
In that instant, Harry finally snapped out of his daze, blinked, and saw Sean's face. As consciousness returned,
The screams gradually subsided, and the white mist dissipated. His breathing was still rapid, but his strength was gradually returning.
"Professor—" Harry murmured, his voice weak.
"It's alright," Sean said softly, "I've got you, don't worry." He skillfully maneuvered the broom, allowing Harry to slowly descend to the ground.
On the field, the wind was still howling and the rain was still pouring down, but the terrifying Dementors had vanished without a trace.
The audience watched the sudden chaos with bated breath, all eyes focused on Harry and Sean.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore on the platform quietly loosened his grip on his wand, gave Sean, who was comforting Harry, a meaningful look, and then slowly rose and left the platform.
"You did very well, Harry," Sean said softly, a hint of approval in his eyes.
Harry nodded slowly, though his body was still weak, his fear was gradually subsiding.
The final whistle had sounded, and the rain continued to relentlessly pound on the ground and the athletes, but no one paid any attention to the score anymore.
Even though the Dementors had been driven away, Harry's thoughts were still in disarray. He slowly got off the broom, his legs feeling weak.
"Harry, you lost the game!" Ron rushed over, his face full of worry. "But we were all worried about you."
Don't worry about the result.
Harry snapped out of his daze and looked around. He then saw the Hufflepuff team celebrating their victory around Cedric Diggory, who was holding the Snitch with a complicated expression.
Diggory looked at Harry with an apologetic expression.
He was clearly unaware that Harry had been attacked by Dementors, and his victory seemed somewhat heavy after seeing Harry rescued from the air.
Diggory approached, his voice hesitant. "Harry—I didn't see you being attacked by the Dementors when I caught the Snitch—if you think that's unfair—"
“No, it’s alright,” Harry interrupted him, a pang of disappointment in his heart, but he knew Diggory hadn’t done anything wrong. “You caught the thief by your own merit; you deserved the victory.”
Diggory was clearly relieved, but Harry's disappointment was still hard to hide.
At this moment, the Gryffindor players in the stands gathered around. Wood was pale, clearly unable to accept the defeat. "We could have won," he muttered softly, his eyes filled with regret, but he quickly composed himself.
He patted Harry on the shoulder. "You did a great job, Harry. It's not your fault."
"So...we lost by a hundred points, right?" Fred said. "Only Hufflepuff lost to Ravenclaw, and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Hufflepuff must have lost by at least two hundred points," George said.
"But what if they beat Ravenclaw?"
"Impossible, Ravenclaw is too strong. But what if Slytherin lost to Hufflepuff—"
"It depends on the score—the difference between winning and losing is 100 points—"
"Damn it, those Dementors!" Ron said angrily, his face full of rage. "Why did they suddenly barge onto the field!"
Hermione followed and handed Harry a dry towel. "Professor Dumbledore will take care of them, Harry."
I'm glad you're alright.
Harry forced a smile and nodded, but the disappointment inside him was still festering.
He knew that today he had not only lost a Quidditch match for the first time, but he had also once again felt that unbearable fear—from the Dementors, from his most dreaded memories.
"Let's go back to the castle and warm up," Sean said with a smile, gesturing for the group to hurry back.
After the others, he narrowed his eyes slightly at the empty stands that Harry had been staring at, looking thoughtful.