Tom walked slowly through the crowd, listening to the young wizards around him talk loudly about the day's quidditch match. Most of the time, the post-match discussions were the most heated: something about so-and-so's bad form, something about someone sleepwalking through the match.
In all competitive games, losing is the original sin.
So Malfoy was in big trouble. Word had spread around Hogwarts that his father had given every member of the team a 2001 Nimbus, and now it was backfiring on him. Anyone with eyes could see that Slytherin had lost this match because of the Seeker.
So Malfoy got the worst of it.
"Draco is blind?" Tom heard one of the Slytherin students shout angrily not far away, talking fast and spitting, "I saw clearly with the binoculars, the golden snitch was there Not a foot above his ear!"
When this revelation was made public, the public - intentionally or unintentionally - went into an uproar. If true, it would be dramatic.
"Is it true?"
"Really! My binoculars are waterproof and can reproduce..." He pulled out a pair of binoculars and replayed the final confrontation between Malfoy and Harry.
The young wizards ate it up with glee. Some thought Malfoy didn't deserve a place on the team and had come in because of connections, others thought Malfoy had deliberately lost the match, while others said it was all Malfoy's fault that Slytherin hadn't won the Quidditch Cup this year....
Tom looked away bored, he could only imagine the pressure Malfoy would be under. Tom looked over to where the Gryffindor wizards were celebrating, lighting the Weasley brothers' magical fireworks, which were waterproof, as if they were nothing but money. In addition to the fireworks, they had a banner with a live lion roaring in the sky, letting out a real lion's roar....
The little Gryffindor wizards stopped and huddled together, as if something had happened, judging by their expressions, not a good thing I'm afraid.
Noticing the change, Tom pushed his way through the crowd and walked over to check the situation. The young Gryffindor wizards, seeing that the man who had arrived was a professor at the school, had made a conscious effort to give Tom access to the center of the circle.
Tom saw Harry, who was being held by Fred and George, and was clutching his forehead, looking a little dazed. Fred and George made a quizzical face when they saw Tom arrive.
"What's the matter? Potter?" Tom crouched down in front of Harry and took a look at his appearance, which was admittedly mediocre: Harry was pale, his forehead was covered in beads of sweat, and he looked like he had been in a lot of pain.
"It's nothing, Professor." Even with a severe headache, Harry instinctively tried to hide the pain from his scar. He had been trying to downplay his special feature for almost a year now, hating being looked at like a monkey and people pointing at his forehead in awe, chanting the words "boy who survived" and "savior." He just wanted to be a normal student, to enjoy the experience of studying at Hogwarts.
The word "boy who survived" was too heavy for him. It was a word that cost both his parents their lives.
It was fortunate that Professor Lockhart didn't pursue the matter further, he gave Harry a long look.
"If there's anything you want to say, anything you want to ask, you can always come to me, there's no one else here. Of course, my advice would be to go straight to Dumbledore." He leaned closer to Harry and asked in a very low voice, "Does the scar on your forehead hurt?"
Harry looked up in surprise, he didn't think Professor Lockhart had guessed! For a moment, his mind wandered,
He wondered if he should tell the whole story.
'Maybe we could go talk to Professor Lockhart in private.' thought Harry.
Tom confirmed his guess through Harry's reaction, he straightened up and said to the members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team around him, "Mr. Potter just fell off the broom and probably hurt not only his arm, but his forehead as well, and since Madam Pomfrey hasn't gone far, you can take him to see if she can prescribe some painkillers."
Tom said to Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor team captain. Oliver Wood nodded, picked Harry up in his arms and started running towards the school hospital.
Tom stood still, watching the group fade away.
The pain in Harry's scar meant that Voldemort was active again. Tom's first thought was of Riddle's diary, which must be doing something.
From Harry's reaction, Riddle's diary must have regained some of its power. The fact made Tom's heart feel as heavy as a rock.
Wood was strong enough to carry Harry all the way to the school hospital. This time, however, Madam Pomfrey was not the first to come out and entertain them. Wood had to put Harry on a bed and wait uneasily.
The door to the school hospital burst open and Wood froze in place just as he got up. It was Dumbledore who entered, carrying something in his arms, followed by the librarian, Madam Pince, with Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey standing behind them both.
Dumbledore placed the flimsy object on the bed, and Wood looked at it more closely to see that it was Cassandra, a Slytherin sixth year.
Madam Pince said with some trepidation, "The girl didn't go to the Quidditch match, she wanted to read in the library ... about ten minutes ago, I heard some strange noises and found her unconscious ... "
"What's going on?" Madam Pomfrey asked Dumbledore in a low voice, as she bent down to look at the student, "Same as before..."
"Yes, in the same condition as Miss Brown, drained of life force. Mrs. Pince found her in the library."
"Miss Wray doesn't like noisy environments, so she didn't go to the Quidditch match today." Snape looked at Cassandra lying on the bed, his face was livid and his tone was cold with no emotion.
Overhearing this conversation, Harry and Wood looked at each other, both seeing the concern in the other's eyes.
"Fortunately, there is still some of Miss Brown's medicine left..." said Madam Pomfrey as she approached with a vial with a silver spoon. She gently opened Cassandra's closed lips and poured the medicine in.