Harry clutched the handle of his firebolt, his legs clamped tightly around the broom, struggling to maintain balance in the fierce wind.
The gale howled in his ears, and the firebolt streaked through the pouring rain.
He had to exert all his strength to resist the wind, every muscle in his arms tensed; a slight misstep and he would be tossed about by the storm.
Rain lashed against his face, stinging his skin like countless icy needles. Fortunately, his waterproof goggles prevented his vision from blurring.
Damn it!
Krum was flying much more steadily than he was; in this weather, the other's weight became his advantage.
Suddenly, a dark shadow appeared at the edge of Harry's vision—a bludger was flying towards him at an alarming speed.
He quickly tilted to the left, narrowly dodging the ferocious iron ball.
The bludger whistled past his ear, creating a strong gust of wind that almost made him slip off his broom.
He gritted his teeth, adjusted his posture, and quickly scanned the entire Quidditch Pitch.
Harry was surprised to find that Durmstrang's players were not as bad as Fred and George had claimed.
Each of them played very aggressively, and Hogwarts was not able to completely dominate them.
Fortunately, the Hogwarts players cooperated more skillfully; they played steadily, gradually expanding their advantage.
Harry pulled back his gaze and accelerated into a dive, and as he approached Krum, he glimpsed another bludger heading towards them.
Krum had clearly noticed it too; he sharply spun around, avoiding the bludger while simultaneously blocking Harry's vision, attempting to make the bludger hit Harry.
But Harry anticipated Krum's move and, with the momentum, sharply pulled his broom upwards, narrowly flying past the edge of the bludger.
The distance between them grew shorter and shorter; in the wind and rain, it seemed as if only the two of them were wrestling.
Krum clearly felt Harry closing in, frequently changing direction, trying to interfere with Harry's flight with his skilled flying techniques.
However, neither Harry nor Krum were flying smoothly.
bludgers kept whistling towards them, forcing them to dodge repeatedly, preventing them from accelerating to their full potential.
"Damn it!" Marcus roared, "Their Beaters are using the same tactic as us, aiming for Harry every time."
"Then let's see who hits more accurately."
"Roger, hit hard, aim before you strike!"
In the eyes of the spectators, the entire Quidditch Pitch seemed to be divided into two parts: Chasers and Beaters.
Hogwarts' Chasers continuously weaved through Durmstrang's defense, striving to score.
Durmstrang's players, equally unwilling to show weakness, desperately tried to catch up on the score.
Every offense and defense was like a small duel, with both sides vying for control of the Quaffle at all costs.
At the same time, the Beaters on the Quidditch Pitch were like madmen, wildly swinging their bats, desperately smashing bludgers towards the opposing Seeker.
Every bludger struck from their hands was a deadly attack.
Harry and Krum became the main targets of the attack; bludgers assailed them again and again, forcing both of them to constantly focus on dodging. Even a slight hesitation could result in a hit, sending them directly falling from their brooms.
As the match progressed, Durmstrang's score gradually fell behind Hogwarts, with a difference of thirty points.
It was then that Durmstrang's Beaters shifted their targets, aiming the bludgers at Hogwarts' Chasers.
Unbeknownst to them, the match had already been going on for over an hour.
Harry was panting heavily on his broom; the harsh weather and intense confrontation made every minute and second exceptionally difficult, and he felt an unprecedented exhaustion.
Where was the Golden Snitch?!
Harry suddenly felt a bone-chilling cold spread throughout his body. This feeling was all too familiar, as if every wisp of moisture in the air had turned to ice.
He instantly realized—the Dementors were here.
"Krum, fly down quickly, there's danger in the sky, Dementors are here!" Harry shouted with all his might at Krum, his voice almost swallowed by the wind and rain.
Krum looked at Harry, a flicker of confusion on his face, but seeing Harry turn his broom and rush towards the ground, he followed without hesitation.
Harry plunged towards the ground; he had to quickly get his wand to fight against those Dementors.
Just as he was descending rapidly, a piercing whistle cut through the wind and rain, and the signal for a match pause echoed throughout the entire Quidditch Pitch.
All the Quidditch players simultaneously adjusted their direction and began to descend to the ground.
At the same time, gasps of surprise erupted from the spectator stands, and all the Little Wizards looked up at the sky.
Through the dense curtain of rain, the spectators had already clearly seen those terrifying figures—Dementors.
They floated in the wind like black trash bags, twisting their bodies, flying closer and closer, continuously pouring out from the clouds in the sky, diving towards the Quidditch Pitch.
"It's Dementors × N!" The invited spectators and Durmstrang's cheerleading squad were all terrified; they were in a panic, letting out screams.
The photographer broadcasting the match was also badly frightened; he bravely suppressed his fear and aimed his magic camera at the sky, recording this horrifying scene.
However, he did not notice that the Hogwarts students present showed no fear at all; instead, they all looked eager to try.
Durmstrang's PrincipalKarkaroff rose furiously, shouting loudly at Dumbledore beside him.
"What is Hogwarts doing, letting Dementors appear on the Quidditch Pitch?"
"If anything happens to Krum, I will not let it go."
"Dumbledore, aren't you going to act quickly!"
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Sebastian interrupted, "This is a minor situation; let the students handle it."
Then, he cast a Sonorus Charm on himself: "Students, Dementors are attacking! What are you waiting for? Let these uninvited guests see what you can do."
A minor situation?!
Let the students deal with Dementors?
Karkaroff could hardly believe his ears.
When he saw Dumbledore, who had been about to act, put away his wand, his expression twisted, and he roared with a ferocious look.
"Do you have any common sense?!"
"Those are Dementors covering the sky, not some random cats and dogs."
"You actually want the students to act?!"
"Are you crazy or am I crazy?"
"Quick, use the Patronus Charm!"
Just then, a uniform and clear incantation echoed throughout the entire Quidditch Pitch.
"Expecto Patronum × N!"
Blinding light erupted from the tips of the Little Wizards' wands, and a dazzling silver mist instantly spread through the spectator stands, forming a shimmering silver barrier that firmly protected all the audience stands.
At the same time, Patronus Charms emerged from their wands, taking various forms: majestic lions, elegant swans, and nimble rabbits.
These Patronus Charms transformed into blinding streams of light, like silver-white lightning bolts, charging towards the overwhelming number of Dementors.
Each Patronus Charm carried an fearless aura, violently crashing into the Dementor swarm, scattering them like torn rags, their black figures flying in all directions in the air.
Karkaroff stood there dumbfounded, his ferocious expression appearing exceptionally rigid under the silver light.
His eyes were wide open, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, as if something was stuck in his throat. After a moment, he finally managed to squeeze out a few words.
"You've got to be kidding..."
"These are all Patronus Charms?!"
...