Chapter 108: Cage Tactics
"What happened?" Draco Malfoy asked in confusion, wondering what kind of countermeasure Harry and the others had gotten from George.
"Potter, Ron, and Hermione went to the library earlier looking for Quidditch rules and past match records," Goyle continued. "But they probably didn't find anything useful, so they've just been wasting time."
"If it were that easy, they could figure it out themselves. Otherwise, wouldn't the seven polished racing brooms I bought in 2001 be a complete waste?" Malfoy said dismissively, though he was quite serious about the expensive equipment.
To him, these were respectable expenditures—legitimate investments, wealth, and advantages. If Potter and the others could easily overcome such advantages with a bit of cleverness and tricks, then what was the point?
Goyle slowed his pace. Malfoy didn't seem as intimidating as before, so he quickly flattered him. "With your methods, Young Master Malfoy, those three can't handle it at all. They've spent days trying to figure things out, but those idiots still came up with nothing."
After saying that, Goyle chuckled, mocking Harry and the others. Seeing that Malfoy didn't respond, he continued, "Since they couldn't think of anything, they had to ask someone else for help. At noon, they went to see George."
At last, hearing something important, Malfoy narrowed his eyes, his gaze turning cold. The only one he couldn't figure out was George.
He could already guess Harry's future—probably becoming an Auror. Ron would at best end up as some low-level clerk, and Granger would likely stay in the wizarding world and marry some fool.
This wasn't because he had foresight—it was simply that people rarely surpass their own abilities and environment. A common person thrown into a remote area would spend their life farming and tending cattle.
Put that same person in a prosperous city, and most would only find an ordinary job. But if someone were born into privilege and received an elite education—like Malfoy himself—they were destined to stand out and become exceptional.
That was the fate of most people in the world. Only a very small number were exceptions.
And George was one of those exceptions.
Malfoy couldn't understand him at all. George wouldn't become an Auror, a professor, or even show much interest in Hogwarts. Malfoy didn't know what he wanted—but he felt that someone like that would eventually do something earth-shattering, something no one could stop—just like the Dark Lord.
"I don't know what George told them, but after they came out, they didn't seem worried about the Quidditch match anymore. They were even happy," Goyle said. He hadn't dared to ask George directly, so he had tried Harry instead, only to be brushed off. Now he was reporting everything to Malfoy so he could handle it.
"Let's go take a look at those Gryffindor fools," Malfoy suddenly stood up. He wanted to see what kind of solution they had gotten from George.
After being reassured by George, Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally solved the problem that had been troubling them for days.
The response to the Quidditch match had been good, and now it was time to encourage the team. While continuing training, Harry also needed to practice his "Eagle Eye"—after all, defeating Malfoy and Slytherin was what truly mattered.
Even if they had a strategy, it would mean nothing if they couldn't execute it.
The first person they went to find was Wood. He looked far more haggard than he had during their first training session. Heavy dark circles and messy hair made him seem physically exhausted—but his spirit was still high.
After all, he was the captain, and one of the few who truly loved Quidditch.
In recent days, Wood had been full of fighting spirit. He hadn't lost heart at all—instead, he had been constantly thinking of strategies and tactics. The first time Harry went to find him, he had still been scribbling plans on a board in the dormitory.
"Harry, I've come up with a way to deal with Slytherin," Wood said immediately upon seeing them.
"What is it?" Harry and the others had come to encourage the team, but they were also curious. As captain, Wood had experience—maybe he really had found a solution.
"Slytherin players are using the best brooms, and they're making full use of their advantages. They're faster, more agile, and more efficient than us," Wood said seriously. He wasn't fantasizing—he truly wanted to win.
"If we compete with them in speed, agility, or stamina, we're at a disadvantage. But the objective never changes. No matter how fast or flexible they are, their goal is always the same—scoring."
Hearing this, Harry and the others suddenly understood. All those Quidditch books they had read weren't for nothing—they knew Wood was right.
"No matter how strong Slytherin is, their goal is still to score," Wood continued. "And right now, we can't catch them, we can't defend against them effectively, and we can't withstand their offense."
Even while listing their disadvantages, Wood didn't sound discouraged.
"I've thought of a solution," he said, his eyes lighting up. "We focus entirely on defense. Our defense will be the key to scoring. We don't let them run—we don't give them space. Without space, they can't use their speed. Without that, they can't attack."
The more Wood spoke, the brighter his eyes became. The others listened carefully, beginning to understand his plan.
"This tactic is called the Cage Strategy," Wood said. "No matter how strong Slytherin is, we trap them in a cage. Lock them down. Even if they don't score, they won't be able to score either. And in the end…"
Wood stared at Harry, his eyes burning with intensity, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Our Seeker—Harry Potter—will catch the Golden Snitch. And then we win."
Harry's eyes shone as well. He had already made up his mind.
"I'll catch the Golden Snitch… and we'll win."
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