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Harry Potter: I Get Stronger by Taking Loans - 106
🕑 Added 2025-11-07 15:54:11 +0000 UTCChapter 106: Magical Replication, Who Is Helping Harry?
Above the Quidditch pitch.
Harry was being dragged all over the sky by his broomstick.
Just as the Weasley twins prepared to approach and rescue him, the broomstick shot straight up into the air.
Harry could barely keep his eyes open against the biting cold wind. Just as his grip weakened and he was about to be thrown off...
The broomstick suddenly stopped.
It hovered steadily in the air. Harry didn't react immediately. He clung desperately to the handle, terrified the broom would suddenly dive and crash.
But nothing happened. It simply remained suspended.
Cautiously testing the broomstick's response, Harry was delighted to discover he could control it again.
The violent, out-of-control sensation that had plagued him vanished entirely. Harry and his broomstick were in sync once more.
Putting aside the incident, Harry refocused on the match. Perhaps because of his height, or perhaps by fortunate positioning, he spotted a tiny glimmer of golden light near one of the stands.
"There!"
Harry excitedly dove toward the Snitch.
In the staff section.
Snape, who had been struggling to maintain his counter-curse, suddenly felt his brow furrow.
He felt...
Relieved?
Earlier, he'd needed absolute concentration to keep his magical energy flowing, countering the curse on Harry's broom. He couldn't afford a moment's distraction.
He'd been watching Harry constantly, unwilling to relax for even a second.
But just now, that force plaguing Harry's broom seemed to vanish.
And his counter-curse suddenly felt unnecessary.
Who had helped Harry?
Dumbledore?
Perhaps he couldn't bear to watch Harry perish after all.
But who was the real culprit trying to murder Harry?
Snape's head snapped toward Quirrell, seated just behind and to the side.
His already cold, deep eyes grew darker and more icy, fixed unblinkingly on Quirrell's face.
But Snape saw only concern in Quirrell's expression. His lips were tightly pressed, showing no signs of active spellcasting.
When Quirrell noticed Snape's stare, he even met his gaze and opened his mouth:
"H-Harry that boy, what h-happened, was it the br-broomstick, did the b-broomstick malfunction?"
This made Snape's eyes narrow. He didn't trust Quirrell one bit. His instincts screamed that this man was behind it all.
But he couldn't directly attack Quirrell in front of everyone.
Damn it.
Harry soared past on his broomstick, heading directly beneath one of the stands.
As he drew closer, Harry realized this was the Ravenclaw section.
The crowd blurred past him, and Harry spotted Leonardo standing among them, waving encouragingly. Leonardo's lips moved as if calling out support or something similar.
Harry couldn't hear what Leonardo said, but he felt the reassurance of a friend's support.
Harry nodded lightly toward Leonardo and bent low, continuing his pursuit of the gold Snitch moving beneath the stands.
After Harry passed, Leonardo kept his gaze fixed on Quirrell, or more accurately, on the magical pathway within him that belonged to Tom.
The dark curse's magical circulation pattern wasn't overly complex. Likely because Voldemort's remaining power was limited, and he couldn't channel more powerful magic.
Mimicking it had proven straightforward.
This is probably related to his dark magic talent as well. Learning such knowledge came quickly to him.
Another factor was the Peeking Fiend's Eye.
Since he could observe the magical pathways within wizards, he could directly see how their magical energy flowed when they cast spells.
By simply attempting to replicate that magical pattern, he could duplicate the corresponding magic.
It was an excellent method for learning from observation.
Moreover, it would prove useful when observing opponents' attacks.
Verbal incantations and wand movements could be faked to mislead enemies.
But internal magical flow was much harder to deceive.
"Leonardo, Leonardo, we need to help Harry!"
A frantic voice suddenly interrupted Leonardo's thoughts.
He turned to see Ron standing beside him, breathless and flushed with exertion and sweat. Clearly, the boy had run hard to catch up to him.
After taking several deep breaths to steady himself, Ron prepared to explain the situation and ask for help.
"We just saw, Snape was..."
But Ron's words were cut short by Lee Jordan's voice booming across the pitch:
"Merlin's beard! Harry caught the Snitch!"
"Gryffindor wins one hundred seventy to sixty!"
"A landslide victory!"
"This is absolutely miraculous! Harry Potter is definitely Gryffindor's lucky star!"
This time, Professor McGonagall didn't restrain Jordan's enthusiastic commentary.
The elderly witch herself was waving her hands excitedly, cheering. She was a genuine Quidditch fan.
Nothing pleased her more than seeing her own house's team victorious.
Especially since she'd recommended Harry for the team herself.
Beneath the staff section, Hermione quickly waved her wand, extinguishing the flame at its tip.
She'd nearly set Snape's robes on fire!
Jordan's cheers and commentary had stopped her just in time.
Hermione exhaled quietly, taking advantage of the distracted crowd to slip away discreetly.
As she walked, she pondered. In that short span, Harry had simply caught the Snitch.
He must have escaped the curse's influence.
"But I didn't do anything yet. Ron must have found Leonardo faster, and they..."
When Hermione exited the Quidditch pitch, she found Leonardo and the others already waiting for her. Even Harry was there.
Seeing Harry looked unharmed, Hermione relaxed.
"Harry, are you alright?"
Hearing Hermione's concern, Harry scratched his head hesitantly.
"I'm fine. I wasn't hurt."
"It's just that earlier, the broom was so strange. It suddenly went out of control, like it was trying to throw me off, but then..."
Harry's tone grew more confused.
"The broom suddenly worked normally again. There wasn't any sign of malfunction at all."
In a secluded corner.
Quirrell swayed suddenly, leaning against a nearby wall.
"Master, did we..."
"Fail," Voldemort's voice echoed in Quirrell's mind, remarkably calm. No anger or displeasure was audible.
But Quirrell didn't dare take it lightly. He spoke carefully:
"It must have been Severus interfering. That troublesome fool keeps thwarting your plans. The troll incident was..."
"At first, yes, he was resisting actively. But that other force afterward didn't resemble his methods," Voldemort's voice paused before continuing.
"It was likely Dumbledore who intervened. Ha, that old fool."
"This matter is finished. Prepare yourself. It's time to visit the Forbidden Forest."
Hearing Voldemort's command, Quirrell immediately complied:
"Yes, I'll prepare thoroughly, Master. I'll obtain the unicorn blood for you."
