The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing his first match after weeks of training:
Minerva had called him into her classroom the day after the slug attack. They'd discussed it for a long time, and luckily for him, it wasn't about the slug's death but about a gift that would help him a lot in his duties as a divergent, about the slug, it hadn't been news that it had fallen on all the students' ears, making even Malfoy stop bothering Harry a bit and look at him with respect.
How he died, no one knew, but it was a fact that when he got to the ladies' room, he'd taken 75 percent of the structure of that tower in a very few seconds and it had worn down considerably in a kind of duel that had blown up the slug.
And the not fully healed wound on his back was more than enough reason for them to theorize about a brutal fight.
However, it wasn't a bad reputation, in fact, everyone just looked at him with even more admiration, especially the staff who were amazed by Harry Potter's feats.
It was a real challenge to talk to the Weasley twins who were walking beside him:
- Oh for Harry. That humble talk doesn't stick anymore. - Fred laughed.
- An accelerated metabolism... - George continued.
- A trick suitcase... - Fred said again.
- A katana with the name of a lady worshipped by the sun... - George interrupted as he pulled the blade from its sheath at Harry's waist.
- Being called up to the Quidditch team... - Fred had done the same, but with Harry's broom in his hands.
- And to save a beautiful lady from a bloodthirsty beast that is a goblin... What's the next adventure? - They both asked in chorus, their eyes shining.
- Sealing in myself the power of an ancient dragon, absorbing ancient entities, taming a basilisk, flying on a hippogriff, expelling hundreds of dementors and battling a dragon head-on for the eternity of the time paradox of the changing Age of Magic? - Harry dictated sarcastically to both redheads, little did Harry know that words would cost him dearly in the future.
- I knew the tales were real. - George said euphorically, pulling out a book showing an illustrated Harry Potter confronting a dragon.
- Don't travel, guys. - Harry promptly said as he entered the common room with the twins following him to enjoy dinner after Quidditch practice. - The adventures of the Boy-Who-Lived are delusional fantasies to thrill little children, that's all.
[ ... ]
Gryffindor against Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up to second place in the house championship.
That was the talk of the entire common room.
Hardly anyone had seen Harry play in class because Oliver had decided that, being a secret weapon, Harry's participation should be kept secret. But somehow the news that he would be playing catcher had leaked out and Harry didn't know which was worse:
If people said he'd be brilliant or if they said they'd be running under him with a mattress.
It was fortunate that Harry now had Hermione not as a colleague, but as his best friend.
After the night she revealed that he was an Obscurial, they both began to search and study even more together to find out.
The girl was very grateful for what he had done, and apologized for feeling afraid of what he would do that night, since the dark power had frightened her when the bathroom was almost completely destroyed, but she also felt a protective comfort that she had never felt before in a male figure, something hidden only from her who aimed to become Harry's best friend.
And so, with their friendship growing stronger, he chose to reveal to the girl about Minerva's latest gift, a recent one, but one that made them both enjoy this rare opportunity very much.
With all the books he had bought in Diagon Alley and the library being the majority of his time in the evenings. Harry began to study a lot, whether it was about spells, transfigurations, Quidditch, or even Herbology, which was one of Neville's most talked about subjects.
Harry had learned that there were seven hundred ways to commit fouls in Quidditch and that they had all occurred during the world cup in 1473, that the catchers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious accidents in Quidditch seemed to happen to them, that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, there were judges who had disappeared and reappeared months later in the Sahara desert.
Hermione had become less tense about infringements of the rulebook since Harry had saved her from the mountain lizard and had become a nicer person to the Weasleys, something he had also aimed to match so as not to irritate Harry, who was the only source of friendly connection between them.
On the eve of Harry's first Quidditch match, the three of them had gone out onto the frozen court during the school break, and she had made a very bright blue fire appear for them that could be carried everywhere in a jar of jam. They were standing with their backs to the fire, warming themselves, when Snape crossed the courtyard. Harry immediately noticed that Snape was limping, just as he had on the day of the goblin's death.
Harry, Ron and Hermione moved closer to hide the fire with their bodies, they were sure it was forbidden. Unfortunately, something in their guilty faces attracted Snape's attention. He came limping over to where they were standing. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to scold them.
- What have you got there, Potter? - It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed it to him. Next to a large pile of books under a cloth that protected them from the frost. - Library books can't be taken out of school. - Said Snape. - Give them to me here. Minus five points for Gryffindor.
- Calm down, Severus. - Harry said, standing up where he covered the fire behind him even more. - These are books I bought myself... Especially this one on advanced potions, which will make your lessons less boring. - Harry continued where he was right. Snape's boredom increased every time his students got simple potions wrong.
- Hmph... That was close, Potter. - Snape had said, turning abruptly, but it was far from common knowledge that the professor had let out a small laugh as he walked away from them.
If James were alive, clearly the professor would have sent a letter to Potter's father, notifying him of the attention he was aiming to give in potions class. Something that would certainly irritate James.
But fate is cruel... Unfortunately, he killed James before his time, making it impossible for Snape to tell Potter that his son would rather study than play Quidditch.
- I wonder what happened to his leg? - Harry asked, sitting down where he could see him limping.
- I don't know, but I hope it really hurts. - Ron said sourly.
- Go on, Harry. - Hermione said, handing him a book again. It was one of her favorite activities to listen to Harry read and explain what he already knew, and she was totally glued to him.
[ ... ]
The Gryffindor common room was very noisy on the nights approaching the championships. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat by a window.
Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's homework for their Spells lesson. She never let them copy, but when they asked her to read their work, they got the right answers just the same.
Harry was the most practical of the trio, literally everything he read he didn't forget, where Ron had tried to use this gift to stick it to him, only for Hermione to censure the blue-eyed redhead completely.
Harry felt restless. As well as working nights, he had to go down to the dungeons, where he would deliver frequent notes to Snape. This was where he would get access to make potions, which the professor had allowed him to do on the first day of potions.
So he got up and told Ron and Hermione what he was going to do, only to be told:
- Better you than me! - They answered together, because they really didn't feel comfortable in the presence of such a teacher.
He went to the professor's office in the dungeons and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again. No answer.
Perhaps Snape had left? It was worth a try. He opened the door and peeked inside to find a horrible scene.
Snape and Filch were inside alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bleeding horribly and lacerated with torn pieces. Filch was euphorically handing Snape bandages.
- Damn! - Snape said. - How can you keep an eye on three heads at once? - Harry tried to close the door quietly, knowing full well what they were talking about and not wanting to intrude, but...
- POTTER! - Snape's face contorted with fury as he dropped his robes to hide his leg. Harry swallowed.
- I just came to deliver the daily notes. - Harry said with a yellow smile to ease everything.
- GET OUT! GET OUT! - He said loudly, but Harry quickly warned him:
- Shouldn't you go to the infirmary? - He asked, but the older man's furious and pained face prompted Harry to approach as he withdrew his most powerful wand from its disillusioned holster on his arm.
- Vulnera Sanentur. - Harry had dictated the magic he had been teaching Hermione for the last few weeks from that potions book he had found lost in a room. With his wand pointed at the professor's leg, no coloration appeared. However, the pain of having his leg reassembled was noticeable, ever since he had closed his eyes and bitten his hand to hold back a scream.
The process had taken a while, but with every second, more and more of the blood lost in the castle came rushing through the ground as it seemed to recede from a lacerating wound to a completely intact leg.
Snape, who was adjusting the hem of his pants, was about to say something, but found himself with only Filch in the room, who was staring stupidly at the potions professor's intact leg.
Potter's notes lay on the table, and he didn't know what to say.
Of course, he knew the spell Potter had used, since he had created it himself, but it was quite advanced and he didn't know whether to be angry that someone very similar to James had helped him, or proud that one of his best students had done it to such a high degree, and for him.
[ ... ]
Harry left before Snape could deduct any points from the houses. He went back to his dormitory.
- Did you do what you had to do? - Ron asked when Harry joined them.
- What happened? - Hermione asked, seeing the seriousness in her best friend.
In a whisper, Harry told them what he had seen:
- Do you know what that means? - He finished breathlessly. - As well as trying to get past the Cerberus on the night of the goblin's death... he tried today, but apparently it was uglier than the last time.
He or someone else wants the thing the dog is guarding! And I'll bet my broom that letting the slug into the castle has something to do with distracting everyone's attention.
Hermione's eyes were wide.
- No. He wouldn't do that. I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try to steal something that Dumbledore was keeping under lock and key.
- Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something. - Ron said harshly. - I agree with Harry, I think Snape would do anything. But what is he looking for? What is the dog guarding?
- I still don't know if Snape would do something like that... But he and Quirrell seem to act very strangely, I mean, it's nothing new that during the nights I wear the cloak, I see them bumping into each other and almost walking out into the corridors.
With everything in mind, Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with thoughts.
Ron was snoring loudly and Harry couldn't sleep. He tried to clear his head, he needed to sleep, he had to sleep, he was going to play his first Quidditch match in a few hours, but the look on Snape's face when Harry saw his leg was hard to forget. He tried not to meddle in this affair with the trapdoor on the third floor, but everything seemed to bring him closer to it.
He knew he had done something good for the professor, but was he really helping the right side of a situation?
[ ... ]
The next day dawned bright and cold. The main hall was filled with the delicious smell of sandwiches and the lively chatter of everyone looking forward to a good game of Quidditch.
In addition to the fact that all four houses had received five hundred points, something they promptly put down to Potter, who was the only student at Hogwarts to have his points added up across all four.
This only increased his popularity among the houses.
- You have to eat something. - Hermione said, leaning on Harry's shoulder and trying to get him to eat the sandwich she had prepared.
- I'm not hungry. - Harry replied restlessly, with just the slightest smile to reassure his best friend.
- Just a piece of toast. - She tried to persuade him while aiming to feed him.
- No need. - Harry felt terrible. Within an hour he was entering the field. And the thoughts under the trapdoor really worried him.
- "Fuck, why does everyone feel so dangerous, what the fuck!" - Harry thought angrily to himself, as he knew well that he didn't usually act right when he was in danger or saw an innocent in danger.
First he and Hagrid looking for something in Gringotes, then the theft at the bank, the three-headed dog, Snape with a grotesque bite on his leg... There really was something serious going on there, and the worst thing was the fact that Dumbledore had taken any and all books about Nicholas Flamel from the school library.
It was certain that something big was going to happen, and even though he wanted to stay out of it and not interfere, it seemed that every move he made away from the subject brought him closer.
- Harry, you need energy. - Said Simas Finnigan. - The catchers are always the ones who end up crippled by the other team. - He continued, trying to be helpful, but his innocence meant he didn't notice that it wasn't helping.
- Thanks, Simas. - Replied Harry sarcastically as he stood up, watching Simas heap ketchup on the sausages, and smiling as he thought Harry was grateful. - Anyway, see you later. - He concluded by biting into a piece of the sandwich, giving Hermione a kiss on the cheek, smiling to reassure the girl who stuck her tongue out at him in jest, and heading for the exit of the hall.
[ ... ]
It was around eleven o'clock and the whole school seemed to be in the stands surrounding the Quidditch pitch. Many students had brought binoculars. The seats were high up, but sometimes it was still difficult to see what was going on.
Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Simas and Dino, the fan from the second division team in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large flag on one of the sheets that Perebas had chewed, it read: "Potter for President" and Dino, who was good at drawing, had painted the great Gryffindor lion underneath. Clearly he could represent the four houses... but it was Gryffindor that had welcomed him to Quidditch.
Then Hermione had used a spell to make the paint glow multicolored.
Meanwhile, in the changing rooms, Harry and the rest of the team were wearing their red Quidditch robes.
Oliver, who was at the front and was the captain, hissed for silence:
- All right, boys.
- And girls... - added top scorer Angelina Johnson.
- And girls. - Oliver agreed. - It's time.
- The big game! - Said Fred.
- The game we've been waiting for. - George explained.
- We already know Oliver's speech by heart. - Said Fred to Harry, who had been enjoying being in Potter's presence lately. - We were part of the team last year.
- Shut up, you two! - Wood ordered. - This is the best team Gryffindor has had in years. We're going to win. I know we will. - And he stared at the players as if to say "Or you'll see". - Right. It's time. Good luck to everyone.
Harry followed Fred and George out of the changing room and, sighing, entered the court to loud cheers.
Madame Hooch was the judge. She was standing in the middle of the court waiting for the two teams, broom in hand.
- I want to see a clean game. - She said when everyone was gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcos Flint, a fifth year student. Harry thought Flint had the blood of a slug. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the "Potter for President" banner waving over the heads of the spectators. His heart skipped a beat. He felt braver. - Get on your brooms, please. - Having said that, Harry climbed onto his Nimbus 2000, which outwardly looked uncomfortable flying on a broomstick, but which, when he sat on it, felt like a comfortable seat and a support for his feet, invisible to the outside eye, of course.
Madame Hooch blew a loud hiss on her silver whistle.
Fifteen brooms rose into the air. And the match was on:
- "The goal was immediately scored by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, what a great scorer she is, and a pretty one too."
- JORDAN! - Minerva shouted at a dark-haired student who was narrating into a microphone.
- "Sorry, teacher." - The Weasley twins' friend, Lino Jordan, was broadcasting the match, closely watched by Professor Minerva.
- "She's really playing at full strength, a lovely pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find from Oliver Wood, last year she was in the reserve team, back to Johnson and.... No, Slytherin took the goal, the captain of Slytherin steals the goal and flies away."
- "Markus Flint is soaring like an eagle, he's going to sea... No, he's stopped by an excellent intervention from Gryffindor's goalkeeper, Oliver, and Gryffindor keeps the goal, and Gryffindor's top scorer, Katie Bell, makes a beautiful dive around Markus and up the pitch and... AI, that must have hurt, she took a bullet in the back of the head, lost the goal to Slytherin."
- "Now Hadrian Pucey is running towards the goal, but he's blocked by a second bullet thrown by Fred or George Weasley, it's hard to tell which one, in any case a good move by the Gryffindor goalkeeper, and Johnson has possession of the goal again, the way is clear in front of him and there she goes, really flying, dodging a fast bullet, the goals are in front of her... Let's go now, Angelina... goalkeeper Miles Bletchley dives, doesn't get there in time... AND THAT'S A POINT FOR GRYFFINDOR!"
The Gryffindor crowd fills the cold air with shouts, and the Slytherin crowd with wails.
- Move over, let's go. - A large man said from among the children.
- Rubeus! - Ron and Hermione squeezed in to make room for Hagrid to sit with them.
- I've been watching from my house. - Hagrid said, pointing to a large pair of binoculars hanging around his neck. - But it's not the same as watching in a crowd. No sign of the snitch yet, eh?
- No. - Ron replied. - Harry hasn't had much to do yet.
- At least he's not hurt, that's something. - Said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering at the little dot that was Harry in the sky.
Far above them, Harry was flying over the game, looking for a sign of the pommel. This was part of the strategy he and Oliver had set up:
- "Stay out of the way until you spot the pommel. We don't want you to be attacked unnecessarily, get the damn pommel or die trying." - That's what Oliver had dictated just before the game.
When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a loop to vent his boredom with standing still. Now he went back to looking for the pommel. Once he spotted a flash of gold, but it was just another reflection of the watch of one of the twins who were flying fast and another time a bullet decided to shoot in his direction and it looked more like a cannonball, but Harry dodged it and Fred came after it.
- What's up, Harry? - He had just had time to shout as the bullet flew furiously in Mark Flint's direction.
- "Slytherin in possession of the goals. Top scorer Pucey dodges two bullets, the two Weasleys, top scorer Bell and flies towards, wait a minute, is that the pommel?" - It was Lino Jordan who continued narrating alongside Minerva.
There was a murmur from the fans when they saw Hadrian Pucey drop his sip, too busy peering over his shoulder at the golden flash that had passed his left ear.
Harry saw it. Overcome with excitement, he dived towards the golden trail. Slytherin's catcher, Terence Higgs, saw the pommel too. Headlong, they rushed towards the pommel, all the gunners seeming to have forgotten what they were supposed to do, stopping in mid-air to watch the speed at which they were both coming as they spun synchronously.
Harry was faster than Terence, he could see the little round ball, the wings flapping, shooting up into the air, he made more speed...
- Ohhh! - An angry roar came from the Gryffindor crowd below. Marcos Flint had blocked Harry on purpose and Harry's broom lost its way, Harry held on to keep from falling.
- Foul! - Shouted the Gryffindor crowd.
Madame Hooch turned to Marcos in annoyance and then gave Gryffindor a free throw in front of the goal posts. But in the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from view again.
In the stands, Dino Thomas shouted:
- Away with him, referee! Red card! - Dino shouted, to Potter's laughter.
- This isn't soccer, Dino. - Ron reminded him, smiling. - You can't kick a player off the pitch in Quidditch, and what's a red card?
But Hagrid stayed by Dino's side, where he had said:
- They should change the rules, Marcos could have knocked Harry into the air.
Lino Jordan was finding it difficult to remain neutral:
- "So, after that obvious and disgusting dishonesty." - The dark-haired boy said, only to receive another rebuke.
- Jordan! - scolded Professor Minerva.
- "I mean, after that clear and disgusting fault."
- Jordan, I'm warning you... - Minerva continued.
- "All right, all right. Mark almost killed the Gryffindor catcher, which can happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty in Gryffindor's favor, Spinnet takes it, out, no problem, and we continue the game, Gryffindor still in possession of the ball." - It was when Harry dodged another bullet, which passed with dangerous effect next to his head, that it happened.
His broom took a dangerous and sudden turn. For a split second he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom firmly with both hands and knees. He had never felt anything like it before.
He was a hundred meters off the ground, he'd never been this high and just now a new broom was failing. He had to be kidding himself.
It happened again. It was as if the broom was trying to knock him down. But a Nimbus 2000 didn't suddenly decide to knock down its user. Harry tried to head back towards the Gryffindor beacons, intending to warn Oliver to ask for time, and then he realized that the broom had gotten out of control. He couldn't turn it. But he could steer it. It zigzagged through the air and occasionally made sudden movements that almost knocked him off balance.
Lino was still commenting:
- "Slytherin still in possession, Markus with the goal, past Spinnet, past Bell... Hit hard in the face by a bullet, I hope he broke his nose, it's a joke teacher, Slytherin scores. Oh, no!"
The Slytherin crowd cheered. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was slowly carrying him higher and higher, moving away from the game, swerving and bucking along the way.
- I don't know what Harry thinks he's doing, - Hagrid grumbled. And peered through the binoculars. - If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd lost control of the broom..., but that can't be! - Hagrid finished his sentence as he saw dozens of red sparks falling from the sky, where all attention turned to Potter, who had cast a spell to warn them.
Suddenly, people in all the stands were pointing at Harry up high. His broom had started to sway from side to side, and he could barely hold on. Then the crowd screamed. The broom gave a violent lurch, and Harry was dismounted. He was now hanging, holding on with just one hand as it stubbornly tried to fly straight, attempting to throw him off with its speed.
- Did something happen to the broom when Marcus blocked him? - Seamus whispered.
- It can't be. - Hagrid replied, his voice trembling. - Nothing can interfere with a broomstick unless it's very powerful magic to interfere with the jinxes, no kid could do that to a Nimbus 2000.
Upon hearing this, Hermione grabbed the binoculars from Hagrid but instead of looking at Harry up high, she started anxiously scanning the crowd.
- What are you doing? - Ron groaned.
- I knew it!. - Hermione exclaimed. - Snape. Look.
Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands on the opposite side. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop as if reciting something very quickly and intently.
- He's doing something, he's jinxing the broom. - Hermione said.
- What are we going to do? - Ron said, frightened.
- Leave it to me. - She said.
Before Ron could say anything, Hermione disappeared. Ron pointed the binoculars back at Harry. The broom was shaking so hard it was almost impossible for Harry to hold on much longer. Where any student would have already fallen, his current body and resistance helped him a lot to stay safe.
The crowd stood up, watching with terror, the Weasley twins flew to try to transfer Harry safely to one of their brooms, but it didn't help. Every time they got close to him, the broom climbed higher. They stayed at a lower level, circling beneath Harry, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell... Marcus Flint seized the quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.
- Hurry up, Hermione! - Ron muttered desperately.
Hermione made her way to the stands where Snape was and now ran down the row behind him, not stopping to apologize as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Upon reaching Snape, she crouched, pulled out her wand, and muttered a few well-chosen words. Blue flames erupted from her wand and onto the hem of Snape's robes.
It took maybe thirty seconds for Snape to realize he was on fire. A sudden shout confirmed that Hermione had succeeded. Collecting the fire into a small jar she had in her pocket, she quickly retreated with a mischievous smile down the same row. Snape would never know what had happened.
It was enough. Up high, Harry suddenly managed to get back on his broom.
- Neville, you can look. - Said Ron. Neville had spent the last five minutes sobbing into Hagrid's jacket.
Harry was flying fast back to the ground when the crowd saw him speeding with an extremely serious expression towards Professor Snape.
It was close; he flew like a lightning bolt between the professors, where, after turning around, all he could see was Quirrell's turban unraveling from the speed at which he had shot between the professors, who had thrown themselves to the ground to avoid his charge.
His forehead hurt in a way that only happened when his body accelerated in development, and it came from this man. Harry saw something in this man that practically screamed inside him to expose something about him.
He knew there was something strange; Snape wasn't the problem, the stuttering little lamb of Hogwarts was.
He saw in him the desperation to reattach the turban, and the calculating look in Albus's eyes, who was situated slightly above, seeing something he didn't expect to see, only for something else to catch his attention.
A small, tiny, and fast golden flash passed by the corner of his eyes. He flew, he flew very fast.
No one understood what was happening, least of all the Slytherin Seeker. Harry had climbed so fast and vertically that it was very quick to reach the record of two hundred and fifty meters.
This was only so that everyone could see him descending in a straight line at an astonishing speed.
It was something the rival Seeker finally realized; the Snitch was just a few centimeters from him.
They were one hundred and fifty meters up when the rival Seeker collided with Harry's shoulder.
The euphoria in the stands was tremendous from the conflict.
- "One hundred meters... Seventy-five... Fifty..." - Jordan narrated as he saw Minerva pointing her wand in a timed meter count, amidst general euphoria and Harry's emotionless face, as he descended more and more without fear of the imminent collision.
When they reached twenty meters, the rival Seeker gave up on such madness, but Harry continued:
- "TEN METERS... HOLY CRAP!" - Jordan shouted in utter lack of action from the other team members, who were now just watching, along with a furious Minerva.
Then, at exactly five meters, Harry finally pulled up the broom with him crouching on the handle to avoid breaking his legs. The euphoria was immense in the stands.
He flew over less than a meter from hitting the ground, balancing with both hands to the sides with the cutting wind keeping the balance. His features remained calm, and finally, what everyone feared happened.
Harry thrust his right arm forward abruptly, his broom dipped a bit more and collided with the ground, and finally, Potter rolled ten meters on the ground, stopping in the middle of the field under the terrified gaze of everyone.
- "He died!" - Jordan shouted his final message into the microphone. Fear was apparent in his voice, but he carried out his role as commentator to the end.
But, showing no sign of injury, Harry immediately stood up. He brought his hands to his throat and then to his mouth.
- It looks like he's going to vomit. - Hagrid said, looking through the binoculars.
There was a general silence, only for something unprecedented to occur in the history of Quidditch.
Harry spat out a golden ball that landed in his hands. Looking at it, he could see wings sprout from it and flap twice before levitating in front of him.
- "HARRY POTTER RECEIVES ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS, NOT FOR CATCHING THE SNITCH, BUT FOR SKIPPING BREAKFAST AND SWALLOWING THE SNITCH OUT OF HUNGER." - Jordan said, making the stands and even Minerva laugh, under the exhausted eyes of the new Gryffindor Seeker.
- GRYFFINDOR WINS! - Madame Hooch announced with a final whistle.
Harry said nothing, just held up the Snitch, and the game ended in complete confusion amidst the main euphoria of the Weasley twins, who were practically crying, with one of them jotting something down in a notebook titled "Potter's Adventures."
[ ... ]
- He didn't catch the Snitch, he almost swallowed it. - Flint continued to rant twenty minutes later, but it made no difference. Harry hadn't broken any rules, and Lee Jordan continued to gleefully shout the result, Gryffindor winning by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry, however, heard none of it.
Hagrid was preparing a strong cup of tea in his hut, in the company of Ron and Hermione. This was some time after the game, where Harry had already had dinner, taken a relaxing bath, and dressed in regular Muggle clothes.
- It was Snape. - Ron explained. - Hermione and I saw it. He was jinxing your broom, muttering, never taking his eyes off you. Even you noticed him and attacked.
- I didn't attack him... I attacked Quirrell. - Harry said seriously while massaging his forehead.
- Nonsense! - Said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a single word of what had happened next to him in the stands. - Why would Snape or especially Quirrell do something like that?
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided to tell the truth.
- I found out something. - Harry said to Hagrid. - He tried to get past the three-headed dog a while back. Got bitten. Ron thinks he was trying to steal what Fluffy is guarding.
Hagrid dropped the teapot.
- How do you know about Fluffy?
- So we had the same idea about the name. Awesome. - Harry said, happy not to be the only one who liked the "three-headed doggy".
- Yeah... he's mine. I bought him from a Greek chappie I met in a pub last year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the...
- The what? - Harry asked eagerly.
- Don't ask me anymore! - Hagrid retorted impatiently. - That's a secret.
- Seriously... we already know it has something to do with Nicolas Flamel..., but what's so special about him? - Harry asked, as literally no news about him was available.
- Yeah, and Snape's trying to steal it. - Ron continued.
- Nonsense! - Hagrid repeated. - Snape is a Hogwarts professor; he wouldn't do something like that.
- Then why did he try to kill Harry? - Hermione asked.
- Because I healed a nasty bite on his leg... you know, a bite as big as one of Fluffy's mouths. - Harry said, a part of curing Snape that hadn't reached his friends' ears before.
- I know a jinx when I see one, Rubeus, I've read all about them. - Hermione said bossily. - The person needs to maintain eye contact, and Snape wasn't even blinking, I saw it.
- I'm telling you, you're wrong! - Hagrid said vehemently. - I don't know why Harry's broom was acting that way, but Snape, of all people here, is the least likely to try to kill Harry, understand that once and for all... now, listen to me, you three:
You're meddling in things that aren't your concern. This is dangerous. Forget about that dog and forget what it's guarding, this is Dumbledore's business with Nicolau Flamel's treasure...
- Finally! - Exclaimed Harry. - So there's some treasure... particularly small enough to fit in a pouch, isn't there?
Hagrid looked furious with himself. Thus, he sent the trio back to the castle.
He really couldn't keep a secret and was afraid of what might happen to Harry or another student if they discovered such secrets.
And with that, we end the thirteenth chapter of Changed Prophecy.
I hope you're enjoying it and don't forget to comment.
Did you like how Harry is analyzing things a bit beyond Snape, the Quidditch match, or any other events in the chapter?
I hope so, and I'll be waiting for all of you in the comment section.
== Characters Introduced in the Chapter ==
------------------------------------
Markus Flint:
------------------------------------
Lino Jordan:
------------------------------------
Angelina Johnson:
------------------------------------
Alicia Spinnet
------------------------------------
Katie Bell:
------------------------------------
Miles Bletchley:
------------------------------------
Hadrian Pucey:
------------------------------------
Terence Higgs:
------------------------------------