crowd. Harry, however, thought Lee had a 
point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person On the Slytherin team; the 
rest of them were enormous. 

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch. 

Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hand very 
tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's 
fingers. 

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..." 

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen 
brooms rose into the air. Harry felt his hair fly back off his forehead; 
his nerves left him in the thrill of the flight; he glanced around, saw 
Malfoy on his tail, and sped off in search of the Snitch. 

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinner of Gryffindor with 
the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking 
good, Alicia! Argh, no -- Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington 
of Slytherin tearing UP the field -- WHAM! -- nice Bludger work there by 
George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by -- Johnson, 
Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina -- nice swerve around 

256 



Montague -- duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger!- SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO 
GRYFFINDOR!" 

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the 
sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight 

"OUCH!" 

Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing 
into her. 

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!" 

A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of 
Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and 
began to bleed. 

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. "Penalty 
shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty 
shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!" 

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and 
Alicia flew forward to take the penalty. 

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the 
crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO 
GRYFFINDOR!" 

Harry turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Flint, still bleeding freely, 
fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of 
the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched. 

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint 
waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass -very 
difficult indeed -- YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!" 

Relieved, Harry zoomed away, gazing around for the Snitch, but still 
making sure he caught every word of Lee's commentary. It was essential 
that he hold Malfoy off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty 
points up -


257 



"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession -- no! 
Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for 

Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field -- THAT WAS 
DELIBERATE!" 
Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead 

of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart wheeled in the 

air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle. 
Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and 
began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty 
past the Slytherin Seeker. 

"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING --" 
"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way --" 
"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!" 
Harry felt a huge jolt of excitement. He had seen the Snitch it was 


shimmering at the foot of one of the Gryffindor goal posts -- but he 


mustn't catch it yet -- and if Malfoy saw it Faking 
a look of sudden concentration, Harry pulled his Firebolt around 
and sped off toward the Slytherin end -- it worked. Malfoy went haring 
after him, clearly thinking Harry had seen the Snitch there.... 

WHOOSH. 

One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry's right ear, hit by the 
gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again 
WHOOSH. 
The second Bludger grazed Harry's elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was 


closing in. 
Harry had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward him, 


258 



clubs raised -


He turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick 
collided with a sickening crunch. 

"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from 
each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up 
earlier than that to beat a Firebold And it's Gryffindor in possession 
again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle -- Flint alongside her -- poke him 
in the eye, Angelina! -- it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke -- oh 
no -- Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal 
posts, come on now, Wood, save --!" 

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin 
end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the 
magical megaphone away from him. 

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! WoiA happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, 
thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession --" 

it was turning into the dirtiest game Harry had ever played in. Enraged 
that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were 
rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with 
his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley 
elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams 
penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the 
score forty-ten to Gryffindor. 

The Snitch had disappeared again. Malfoy was still keeping close to 
Harry as he soared over the match, looking around for it once Gryffindor 
was fifty points ahead 


Katie scored. Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around 
her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of 
revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence 
to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after 
the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, 
completely winded. 

Madam Hooch was beside herself 

259 



"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN 
THE SCORING 
AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!" 


And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a 
Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle Out of his hands; Alicia 
seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal -- seventy-ten. 


The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse -- Gryffindor was 
sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup 
was theirs. Harry could almost feel hundreds of eyes following him as he 
soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Malfoy 
speeding along behind him. 


And then he saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above him. 


Harry put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in his ears; he 
stretched out his hand, but suddenly, the Firebolt was slowing down -


Horrified, he looked around. Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbed 
hold of the Firebolt's tail, and was pulling it back. 


"You --" 


Harry was angry enough to hit Malfoy, but couldn't reach -- Malfoy was 
panting with the effort of holding onto the Firebolt, but his eyes were 
sparkling maliciously. He had achieved what he'd wanted to do -- the 
Snitch had disappeared again. 


"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam 
Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his 
Nimbus Two Thousand and One. 


"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, 
dancing 
out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B --" 


Pprofessor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off She was 
actually shaking her finger in Malfoys direction, her hat had fallen 


260 



off, and she too was shouting furiously. 

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by 
several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the 
Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on 
to greater heights. 

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal -- Montague scores 
--" Lee groaned. "Seventy- twenty to Gryffindor..." 

Harry was now marking Malfoy so closely their knees kept hitting each 
other. Harry wasn't going to let Malfoy anywhere near the Snitch.... 

"Get out of it, Potter!" Malfoy yelled in frustration as he tried to 
turn and found Harry blocking him. 

"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, 
COME ON!" 

Harry looked around. Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was 
streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper 
-- they were all going to block her -


Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along 
the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the 
Slytherins. 

"AAAAAAARRRGH!" 

They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina's Way was 
clear. 

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!" 

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt 
in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field. 

And then he saw something to make his heart stand still. Malfoy was 
diving, a look of triumph on his face -- there, a few feet above the 
grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer 


261 



Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was miles ahead 


"Go! Go! Go!" Harry urged his broom. He was gaining on Malfay -- Harry 
flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him -he 
was at Malfoy's ankles -- he was level