Chapter 225: The Intruder Dementors

Harry was flying fast, but his Nimbus 000 was wobbling a bit in the wind. He held on as tight as he could and turned into the storm.

Five minutes later, Harry was soaking wet and freezing, and could hardly see his teammates, let alone the little Snitch.

He raced across the field, past blurry red and yellow figures, with no idea of ​​what was going on. In the strong wind, he couldn't hear the commentary.

The audience was hidden under a sea of ​​cloaks and umbrellas blown out of shape by the wind. Twice Harry was almost knocked off his broom by Bludgers, and the heavy rain made his vision so blurry that he couldn't see them coming from the opposite direction.

He didn't know how long the game had been going. It was getting harder and harder to keep his broom in a straight line. The sky was getting darker, as if night had decided to come early.

Twice Harry almost ran into another player, and couldn't tell if it was his teammate or the other team's player.

Everyone was soaking wet now, and the rain was so heavy that he couldn't see clearly... Madam Hooch's whistle blew with the first lightning. Harry could only see the outline of Wood in the dense rain curtain, and Wood was motioning to Harry to get down to the ground. The whole team splashed into the mud.

"Are they going to finish?" Hermione asked. She had been staring at Harry. Even with the blessing of magic, Hermione's eyes could not catch Harry's trajectory. The weather was too bad, not to mention that Harry's eyes were full of cold rain.

"How is it possible..." Ron said, "They are only leading by 50 points now, but the Golden Snitch has not been caught. If Harry doesn't catch the Golden Snitch as soon as possible, they may have to fight until night, or even later."

"We should go over." Hermione said, "I have a good idea."

"What?" Ron was puzzled.

"Waterproof and moisture-proof spell, this is very useful for Harry. The rain seriously hinders his vision." Fanlin said.

Several people ran over quickly, which surprised Harry.

"Give me your glasses, Harry!" Hermione said. She had to be quick, otherwise it would be bad if someone saw it.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't talk so much nonsense, the waterproof and moisture-proof spell will be very helpful to you."

Hermione didn't wait for Harry to take off his glasses. She tapped Harry's glasses leg with her wand, and the mist on Harry's glasses disappeared instantly, which made Harry's vision better.

"Of course, there is also a warming spell. We can only help you so far!" Fanlin said. He added a warming spell to Harry and used his wand to drain the moisture from Harry's clothes.

This made Harry feel very comfortable.

"If you don't catch the Snitch quickly, I think we will stay here until the evening!" Fanlin said helplessly, "This is terrible."

"You said the same thing as Wood." Harry said.

The help of his friends cheered him up and he was in much better spirits.

"Come on!" Hermione whispered, and the three of them ran back secretly.

The game still had to continue. Although the vision became clear, the rain was heavy, and the comfort just now soon disappeared. The clothes were wet by the rain again, which made Harry cold again.

Renewing his resolve, he urged his broom through the turbulent air, searching in every direction for the Snitch.

In the process he dodged a Bludger and slipped beneath Diggory, who was running in the opposite direction... There was another clap of thunder, followed by forked lightning. It was getting dangerous.

Harry had to catch the Snitch quickly - he turned, trying to get back to the center of the pitch, but just then another flash of lightning lit up the stands, and Harry saw something that completely distracted him: the silhouette of a huge, shaggy black dog, silhouetted against the sky, sitting in a row of empty seats at the top of the stands.

Harry's numb hands slipped on his broom, and his Nimbus 000 dropped several feet. He brushed the soaked tassels from his eyes and squinted at the stands again. The dog was gone.

"Harry!" Wood's distressed voice came from the Gryffindor goal. "Harry, behind you!" Harry looked around in panic.

Diggory continued to slam down the pitch, a small golden speck flickering between them in the rain-filled sky... Harry panicked and threw himself on his broomstick, spinning towards the Snitch. "Come on!" he shouted at his Nimbus. Raindrops hit his face, "Faster!"

But something strange happened. A timid silence fell on the terraced stands around the track; the wind, though still as strong as before, had forgotten to roar, as if someone had turned it off, as if Harry had suddenly gone deaf - what had happened? Then a familiar, terrible cold current hit him again, inside his body, just as he felt something moving on the pitch below... Harry didn't have time to think, and he took his eyes off the Snitch and looked down.

There were at least a hundred Dementors standing below, their faces hidden under their turbans facing him. It was as if frozen water rose from his chest and cut his internal organs.

The rain around him began to condense into ice chips, and they fell to the ground at a great speed.

Harry had to leave here quickly. He rode his broom through the clouds quickly. He looked back from time to time, wondering if the face under the Dementor's turban was the pale face like a venomous snake that he had seen before.

However, this was obviously not something he should consider. Diggory had already turned back when Harry rushed into the sky. The sky was too dangerous, and being struck by lightning was not a good thing.

Unfortunately, when Harry was avoiding the Dementors, he passed through the clouds and brought a little arc, which made his whole body stiff.

A flash of lightning swept across the end of his broom, which made him a little difficult to control.

He struggled to hold the broom handle, but before he could stabilize it, he just flew out of the clouds and collided head-on with his fear.

He saw the gray-black cloak of the Dementor drooping weakly to the ground, and looking up, it was a mouth.

But Harry felt that it was more like a hole, an unknown thing was flowing, and his body was completely insensitive as if he was dead.

He let go of his hand immediately, and he felt a strong sense of falling, and the whistling wind passed by his ears.

"Fortunately... the ground is soft..." (To be continued)