10 to 50...Although the gap is still big, at least it is not zero.

Harry was the first to notice when the Bludger returned to normal. He began to speed up, squinting his eyes, and carefully looked for the whereabouts of the Snitch through the silvery rain curtain.

Harry was anxious.

Because he didn't know whether this normality was temporary, and the score gap was getting bigger and bigger, he had to catch the Golden Snitch as early as possible and end the game.

"Were you practicing ballet, Potter?" Malfoy shouted, deliberately flying next to him:

"I never knew you had this talent. Maybe you should sign up for the Skeleton Dance Troupe!"

Harry was a little annoyed by Malfoy's noise and couldn't help but look back at him, but in that glance, he saw... the golden snitch flew between the two of them.

Without any hesitation, Harry chased after him.

Malfoy was slower to react.

Although he was far behind, with the advantage of the broom, the distance between them was shortening little by little.

"It's the Golden Snitch... Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy both saw it... They're starting to speed up!"

On the commentary stand, Lee Jordan shouted excitedly: "The Golden Snitch has changed direction... Harry Potter is following closely, less than two feet away... Draco Malfoy has been left behind... It seems that sometimes, even the best broom is useless."

The distance between Harry and the Golden Snitch was getting closer and closer, and his fingertips could even touch the thief's wings... but at this moment, a Bludger suddenly changed direction and flew straight towards him.

Harry didn't dodge this time. He let go of the broom, lunged forward, and grabbed the Golden Snitch tightly in his hand.

But at the same time, his arm was also broken by the Bludger.

There was a loud thud and splash, and Harry tumbled off his broom and landed on the muddy field, with his arm dangling at a very odd angle.

There were cheers from the stands.

Kyle was also very happy... It was the first time in three years that he watched the first game in its entirety, which was worth remembering.

As the crowd in the stands shouted Harry's name in unison, Kyle also noticed that the house-elf Dobby hurriedly fled the Quidditch pitch.

Behind Dobby, Kaka was swinging a cleaning broom vigorously, hitting it on the head again and again.

This is how house-elves resolve conflicts... simple and crude, no magic, just a beating.

Kyle raised his eyebrows. He didn't know if the last Bludger that changed direction had anything to do with Dobby... If it did, then it was really persistent.

It's a pity for Harry, Kyle thought he could save his arm.

After the match, Madam Hooch moved Harry to the side of the pitch, next to Marcus Flint, to take them to the hospital wing.

Many people gathered around.

Harry, dazed, saw a row of gleaming teeth.

"Oh, no, don't," he groaned.

"What did you mean, you want me to heal your arm?" Lockhart said loudly to the students gathered around him. "Don't worry, I'm going to do that."

He drew his wand...

"So, which of you two will go first?"

Harry was extremely thankful that he didn't faint. He stretched out his uninjured hand and pointed at Marcus Flint tremblingly. "He, he's more seriously injured."

"What a kind-hearted child." Lockhart touched the raindrops from his eyes and said, "Don't worry. No matter who it is, I can cure him in the blink of an eye. Let's start with the closest one."

Lockhart looked at Harry's arm.

"No!" Harry said quickly, "Just leave it like this, it doesn't hurt me at all...hiss...thank you."

"Look at you, you're talking nonsense because of the pain." Lockhart raised his wand, "Hurry up and lie down. This is just a simple spell. I've used it countless times..."

"Professor Lockhart..."

Kyle squeezed in from the crowd and whispered beside Lockhart, "I know you can definitely cure them, but this kind of small matter should be left to Madam Pomfrey... otherwise she will lose her job.

Moreover, I think everyone would like to hear your opinion on the game just now."

"Oh... you're right. I really shouldn't have stolen Bobby's limelight."

Lockhart patted his head. "I'm sorry. I often treat the injured when I travel. I'm used to it... I hope Poppy can forgive me."

"But when it comes to Quidditch, you've asked the right person." Lockhart laughed. "The Appleland Archers invited me to join them twice, but I had to save the villagers who were plagued by the werewolves of Warga, so I had to decline.

In fact, in July of this year, they invited me again... the day after Headmaster Dumbledore came to see me. If the invitation letter had arrived two days earlier, I might have appeared on the Quidditch field at this time. "

His words immediately caused a sensation... Until now, there are still many people in the school who admire him.

But Harry, lying on the ground, breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you..." He thanked Kyle quietly.

Fred and George also squeezed over, and while Lockhart was talking about how good a flyer he was, they picked up Harry and ran towards the hospital wing.

…

Everything went smoothly, and it took Madam Pomfrey only a second to reattach Harry's arm.

She just looked a little unhappy.

"People get hurt every year... This sport is so dangerous, I don't understand why Dumbledore hasn't banned it yet."

She handed Harry a bottle of potion and said, "Drink it. It will help your recovery..."

Harry said nothing and drank the potion in silence.

Although he was prepared, Harry still choked and almost vomited. The taste was just like the pot water used by the Dursleys. He forced himself to hold back.

"Didn't they say there were two injured people?" Madam Pomfrey looked around, "Why are you the only one?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the Slytherins carried Marcus Flint into the school hospital.

When enemies meet, they are extremely jealous of each other. Looking at the people of the Gryffindor team, they did not hide the hatred in their eyes at all.

But because this was the school hospital, these people did not dare to act rashly and simply put Marcus on the bed farthest from Harry.

"His nose was broken and many teeth were lost..." Madam Pomfrey checked Marcus's condition and said with a straight face, "Dumbledore should really ban this dangerous sport!"

"Madam Pomfrey, Quidditch is not that dangerous..."

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, but Madam Pomfrey simply glanced up and he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Ever since he last stayed here for a few days, Malfoy has had a psychological trauma towards Madam Pomfrey.

Those pills she gave me were awful...tasted even worse than slugs.

Thinking of this, Malfoy's face turned even paler, and he subconsciously looked towards the door.

He had originally wanted to find an opportunity to laugh at Harry, but now, he just wanted to leave here immediately.

(End of this chapter)