Hogwarts: I am the White Demon King

Harry gripped the Firebolt's handle tightly, his legs clamped firmly around the broom, struggling to maintain balance in the fierce wind.

The wind howled in his ears, and the Firebolt sped through the downpour.

He had to use all his strength to resist the wind, every muscle in his arms tensed; a moment's carelessness, and the storm would tear him every which way.

Rain lashed at his face, stinging his skin like countless icy needles, but thankfully, his waterproof goggles kept his vision clear.

Damn it!

Krum was flying much more steadily than he was; in this weather, the other man's weight was actually an advantage.

Suddenly, a black blur appeared at the edge of Harry's vision; a Bludger was hurtling towards him at an alarming speed.

He quickly leaned to the left, narrowly dodging the ferocious iron ball.

The Bludger whistled past his ear, creating a strong gust of wind that almost knocked him off his broom.

He gritted his teeth, adjusted his posture, and quickly scanned the field.

Harry was surprised to find that the Durmstrang players weren't as terrible as Fred and George had made them out to be.

They were playing aggressively, and Hogwarts hadn't managed to completely dominate them.

Fortunately, the Hogwarts players were working together more smoothly; they were playing steadily, gradually increasing their lead.

Harry refocused and accelerated downwards, and as he approached Krum, he caught sight of another Bludger heading their way.

Krum clearly noticed it too; he abruptly swerved, avoiding the Bludger and blocking Harry's view, trying to get the Bludger to hit Harry.

But Harry anticipated Krum's move, and smoothly pulled his broom upwards, narrowly avoiding the edge of the Bludger.

The distance between them closed rapidly, and in the wind and rain, it felt like only the two of them were competing.

Krum clearly felt Harry closing in, and frequently changed direction, trying to use his superior flying skills to disrupt Harry's flight.

However, neither Harry nor Krum were flying particularly smoothly.

Bludgers kept hurtling towards them, forcing them to dodge repeatedly, preventing them from accelerating fully.

"Damn it!" Marcus roared, "Their Beaters are using the same tactic as us, aiming for Harry every time."

"Then bring it on, let's see who's got the better aim."

"Roger, hit them hard, aim carefully!"

To the spectators, the entire field seemed divided into two parts: the Chasers and the Beaters.

The Hogwarts Chasers relentlessly weaved through the Durmstrang defense, striving to score.

The Durmstrang players, unwilling to be outdone, desperately tried to catch up.

Each attack 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 field were swinging their bats like madmen, desperately hammering the Bludgers towards the opposing Seekers.

Every time a Bludger was struck, it was a deadly attack.

Harry and Krum had become the primary targets; the Bludgers came again and again, forcing them to focus on dodging, and any hesitation could result in being hit and falling off their brooms.

As the game progressed, Durmstrang's score gradually fell behind Hogwarts, with a difference of thirty points.

The Durmstrang Beaters then switched their target, aiming the Bludgers at the Hogwarts Chasers.

Unbeknownst to them, the match had already been going on for more than an hour.

Harry was panting on his broom; the bad weather and intense competition made every second exceptionally difficult, and he felt more exhausted than ever before.

Where on earth was the Golden Snitch?!

Harry suddenly felt a chilling coldness spreading throughout his body; the feeling was too familiar, as if every drop of moisture in the air had turned to ice.

He instantly realized—Dementors were coming.

"Krum, fly downwards quickly, there's danger in the sky, Dementors are coming!" Harry shouted at Krum with all his might, his voice almost swallowed by the wind and rain.

Krum looked at Harry, a trace of confusion flashed across his face, but when he saw Harry turn his broom and rush towards the ground, he followed without hesitation.

Harry dove straight down; he had to quickly get his wand to fight those Dementors.

Just as he was descending rapidly, a piercing whistle cut through the wind and rain, and the signal to suspend the game echoed throughout the field.

All the Quidditch players turned in unison, descending to the ground.

At the same time, cries of alarm came from the stands, and the young wizards all looked up at the sky.

Through the dense rain, the spectators could clearly see those terrifying figures—Dementors.

They floated in the wind like black garbage bags, contorting their bodies, flying closer and closer, pouring out of the clouds in the sky and swooping towards the Quidditch pitch.

"It's Dementors × N!" The invited spectators and the Durmstrang cheerleaders were frightened out of their wits; they were extremely panicked and screamed.

The cameraman who was broadcasting the game live was also quite frightened; he suppressed his fear and pointed the magical camera at the sky, recording this horrifying scene.

However, he didn't realize that the Hogwarts students present showed no fear, but instead all looked eager to try.

Durmstrang Headmaster Karkaroff rose angrily and shouted loudly at Dumbledore beside him.

"What is Hogwarts doing, allowing Dementors to appear on the Quidditch pitch."

"If anything happens to Krum, I will not let this go."

"Dumbledore, why don't you take action quickly!"

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Sebastian interrupted, "This is a small matter; let the students handle it."

Then, he used a Sonorus charm on himself: "Students, Dementors are attacking, what are you waiting for? Let these uninvited guests see your power."

A small matter?!

Let the students teach the Dementors a lesson?

Karkaroff couldn't believe his ears.

When he saw Dumbledore, who was originally preparing to take action, put away his wand, his expression twisted, and he roared with a ferocious look.

"Do you have any common sense at all?!"

"Those are swarms of Dementors, not some cats or dogs."

"You're thinking of letting the students handle it?!"

"Are you crazy or am I crazy?"

"Use the Patronus Charm!"

At this moment, a neat and loud incantation resounded throughout the Quidditch pitch.

"Expecto Patronum × N!"

Blinding light burst from the tips of the young wizards' wands, and a dazzling silver mist instantly spread across the stands, forming a flickering silver barrier that firmly protected all the spectator stands.

At the same time, Patronuses emerged from the wands, each with a different form, including majestic lions, elegant swans, and nimble rabbits.

These Patronuses transformed into dazzling streamers of light, like silvery-white lightning, rushing towards the overwhelming Dementors.

Each Patronus carried a fearless aura, crashing fiercely into the Dementor swarm, smashing them into pieces like rags, their black figures scattering in the air.

Karkaroff stood there blankly, his ferocious expression looking particularly stiff in the light of the silver.

His eyes were wide, 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 squeezed out a few words with difficulty.

"Is this a joke......"

"These are all Patronuses?!"

......

...

.