On Saturday morning, Augustus woke up early. He passed through the chilly Slytherin common room and strolled to a wooded clearing outside the castle. The morning mist was thick, obscuring everything beyond five meters in a dreamy haze. Tree branches nearby were adorned with lush, dew-laden leaves, and a fine drizzle hung in the air, blending with the heavy fog to create an otherworldly atmosphere.
"You're up early. The air here is quite nice—I often come for morning walks too," said a voice nearby. A girl approached Augustus. She was strikingly tall for her age and carried an air of elegance and confidence.
"Oh? And you are?" A flicker of curiosity lit Augustus's silver eyes. He didn't recognize her, which was unusual given his exceptional memory. Typically, he never forgot a face.
"You probably haven't seen me before, Mr. Augustus. I'm Cho Chang, Seeker for Ravenclaw's Quidditch team. I've heard much about you—the enigmatic Slytherin prefect and walking library. Ravenclaw has always respected knowledge, so your reputation precedes you, even among us."
"Cho Chang? A lovely name. You're Chinese, I presume?" Augustus deduced smoothly, recognizing her heritage from her name and accent.
"Yes. Are you familiar with China, Mr. Augustus?" Cho asked, pleasantly surprised.
"Just call me Augustus. We're all students—no need for formalities. I wouldn't say I know much, but China's long and mysterious history is fascinating. It's a land full of charm. You must feel proud to be from such a country," Augustus replied with a small smile.
"Of course." Cho's expression brightened at the compliment. "As one of the four great ancient civilizations, China holds unparalleled cultural and historical significance. If you ever visit, I'd be happy to show you around and help you experience its wonders."
"I'd love to, someday," Augustus said with a slight smile. He found this enthusiastic Chinese girl rather likable.
"Well, I should head back now," Cho said, glancing at the time. "This afternoon, I'll be watching our Quidditch team face off against Gryffindor. It's going to be exciting."
"Fair enough. And if I ever visit China, I'll hold you to your offer," Augustus said with a polite nod.
"You must!" Cho reiterated with conviction, her offer clearly more than mere politeness.
By 11 o'clock, the castle's students and staff began making their way to the Quidditch pitch. The air was heavy and humid, with faint rumbles of thunder in the distance. As a second-year prefect, Augustus and Lillian efficiently directed the second-year students to their seats.
When the Gryffindor team entered the field, they were met with a cacophony of cheers, mostly from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students who hoped to see Slytherin defeated. Of course, there were plenty of jeers and boos from the Slytherins.
Madam Hooch, the referee, summoned the team captains, Flint and Wood, to shake hands. The two locked eyes with intense hostility, gripping each other's hands far too tightly.
"Listen for my whistle," Madam Hooch instructed. "Three... two... one—"
The crowd erupted as all fourteen players shot into the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than everyone, squinting into the distance in search of the Golden Snitch.
"Doing alright, Scarhead?" Malfoy taunted, darting below Harry as if showing off his broom's speed.
Harry didn't reply. Suddenly, a heavy black Bludger came hurtling toward him. He narrowly dodged it, feeling the wind from its passage ruffle his hair.
"Close one, Harry!" George Weasley shouted, speeding past with his bat to intercept the Bludger. He sent it hurtling toward Slytherin's Adrian Pucey. However, the Bludger unexpectedly swerved midair and zoomed back toward Harry.
Harry dived to avoid it, and George struck it again, this time toward Malfoy. But the Bludger seemed enchanted, boomeranging back toward Harry once more.
"What's going on?" Harry wondered, accelerating as the Bludger chased him relentlessly. He could hear its whistle as it closed in. Fred Weasley, stationed at the far end, smashed the Bludger away with all his strength.
"That should do it!" Fred called triumphantly. But he was wrong. The Bludger, as if magnetized, veered back toward Harry, forcing him to flee even faster.
Rain began to fall, large droplets splashing against Harry's glasses and obscuring his vision. He could barely register the rest of the game until he heard the commentator, Lee Jordan, announce, "Slytherin leads, 60–0!"
Meanwhile, Augustus observed the rogue Bludger with a furrowed brow. It was clear that the ball was bewitched, targeting Harry specifically. He cast a detection spell on the Bludger, but the results baffled him. The magic didn't match anything in his vast repertoire of known spells.
Unable to identify the caster, Augustus refrained from intervening. As a spectator, meddling with the game would violate the rules and possibly invalidate the match. Instead, he expanded his magical search, hoping to find the source of the enchantment.
High above, Harry finally slowed down, but the Bludger struck his elbow with brutal force. Pain shot through him as his arm broke. Drenched in rain, he clung to his broom with his knees while his useless arm dangled at his side.
The Bludger circled back for another attack, aiming for Harry's face. With one thought dominating his foggy mind—get to Malfoy—Harry charged toward his sneering rival. Startled, Malfoy veered away, his smirk replaced by fear.
With his uninjured hand, Harry lunged and grabbed the Snitch. However, his precarious position caused him to lose balance, and he plummeted toward the muddy ground. The crowd gasped as he crashed, water splashing around him.
Despite the excruciating pain in his broken arm, Harry held up the Golden Snitch. "We won," he muttered before blacking out.
Augustus abandoned his search for the enchanter. Whoever it was had hidden themselves well among the crowd of students and teachers. Fortunately, Harry's injuries were minor—his arm could be mended with a few spells. Augustus walked toward the field but stopped when he noticed Gilderoy Lockhart standing over Harry. For some reason, a chill ran down his spine.
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