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"What do you mean, Professor?" Madam Hooch asked.
"I just took a look at the remnants of the magical circuits in this set of balls. They're extremely sturdy—there's no way a mischievous little wizard could have erased them," Kasenhis explained.
"So?"
"That means it could only have been someone with significant magical skill—someone with ulterior motives within Hogwarts," Kasenhis clarified.
"This... could it affect the start of the Quidditch Cup?"
"...Uh..."
...
"And that's why, Madam Hooch being so unreliable, I went to Dumbledore and suggested that before the Quidditch Cup begins, I personally inspect all your brooms—and the match balls as well," Kasenhis explained, holding the Enchanting Table while re-enchanting the Golden Snitch in his hands.
"Although most flying brooms have anti-curse magical circuits, if someone can tamper with the Quidditch balls, there's no reason to believe they couldn't tamper with your brooms too."
He finished the explanation while turning to Harry, who stood nearby, looking both concerned and intrigued.
"Mr. Wood, the Golden Snitch." Kasenhis handed the re-enchanted Snitch to Oliver Wood after completing its enchantment.
"Oh, thank you, Professor."
"No need to thank me. Now, bring over all your brooms—I need to inspect each one. Some may even need re-enchantment."
Kasenhis picked up his quill and began writing runes on the parchment, recreating protective anti-curse enchantments specifically for brooms.
One by one, the brooms lined up as if in a queue, passing over the Enchanting Table. Each broom, now shimmering with a faint purple glow, returned to its owner's hands.
"Slytherin team, please bring your brooms over for inspection," Kasenhis called out.
The Slytherin players gathered around.
"Professor Kasenhis, I'm Marcus Flint of the Flint family," the Slytherin team captain introduced himself, extending his hand.
"Pleasure to meet you, Marcus," Kasenhis said, shaking Flint's hand. "Your brooms, please."
"Uh, Professor Kasenhis, surely this isn't necessary for us Slytherins?" Marcus asked hesitantly.
"In my eyes, all of you are just fragile young witches and wizards." Kasenhis replied firmly.
"But we are the Slytherins, I don't think someone will target—"
"Listen, Mr. Flint, I regret that I can't take the risk. And don't go thinking of yourselves as 'Dark Wizard trainees'—and don't expect Dark Wizards to spare you just because you're Slytherins."
Kasenhis picked up a broom, placed it on the Enchantment Table, and began his work while muttering his thoughts aloud.
"Honestly, I've never believed Slytherins are destined to be some sort of Dark Wizard apprentices. And I certainly don't want you resigning yourselves to such a fate."
"In other words, just because some Dark Wizards happened to be Slytherins during their time at Hogwarts, that doesn't mean you should feel any kind of bizarre kinship with them. You might feel some connection to them, but trust me, they won't feel the same way about you."
As Kasenhis grumbled and enchanted the Slytherin students' brooms, he finally finished the last one, picked up the Enchanting Table, shrank it, and tucked it into his pocket.
"Play well," he said curtly.
Snap!
With a loud snap, he disappeared from the spot and reappeared in the professors' stand.
"You've been a great help, Kasenhis," Dumbledore said with a smile.
"It's nothing, just a small favor. I just hope that scheming scoundrel keeps their head down and doesn't let me catch them red-handed," Kasenhis replied darkly, his gaze frequently drifting toward Quirrell seated ahead of him.
"Don't be like that; perhaps you should relax a little," Professor Flitwick said, attempting to soothe him. "As the saying goes, Hogwarts is the safest place in the world."
"Oh, let's hope so."
The Quidditch match concluded smoothly, with the referee declaring Gryffindor the winner. As for how they won...
"Forgive me, but I truly couldn't see a thing, Dumbledore," Kasenhis said, following the Headmaster as they left the stands. "A group of people flying around on brooms, zooming back and forth—it's hard to make out what's even happening. Is this really enjoyable?"
"That's the charm of Quidditch," Dumbledore replied with a chuckle. "Perhaps you should borrow a few books from Madam Pince. You might discover the hidden joys of the game."
"...I think I still prefer building," Kasenhis muttered.
"You'll have your chance," Dumbledore said with a smile. "And as always, I insist—start with my office."
"Hmm, when I have time," Kasenhis replied casually.
Descending from the stands, Kasenhis returned to his usual leisurely pace. He disliked moving too fast; he preferred to stroll along, soaking in the rhythm of a slow, unhurried life.
Oh, and it was even better to have a companion who shared his love for a relaxed pace.
Well, maybe not quite a "companion" at the moment.
"Severus, your leg hasn't fully healed yet?" Kasenhis asked softly as he noticed Snape limping along.
"It's a wound tainted with dark magic, remember?" Snape replied tersely.
"Perhaps I could make you a cane," Kasenhis suggested smoothly. "If you're not fond of wheelchairs, a cane could double as a gentleman's accessory. Or even a staff—it's very British, you know."
Without warning, Kasenhis slung an arm around Snape's shoulders and, with a slight lift, subtly adjusted his weight.
From behind, it looked almost like they were just walking arm in arm, casually chatting.
For example...
"I can't believe it—Professor Kasenhis and Snape get along so well?"
Ron exclaimed, trailing behind the two with wide eyes. "He's just so cool!"
"Professor Kasenhis gets along well with everyone, but why does he have to be like that with Snape too..." Harry grumbled, clearly not pleased.
"Wow, Harry just won the match, so why does he seem so upset?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"Of course, it's because Professor Kasenhis has been deceived by a Dark Wizard!" Harry declared indignantly.
"What do you mean?" Ron looked even more confused.
"Remember when I went to the library to borrow a book? I ran into Snape on the staircase. At that moment, he lifted his pant leg and poured a bottle of red potion on it. The wound—it looked like a bite from some beast," Harry said, vividly recounting the scene.
"Are you trying to say that the wound came from the three-headed dog? But that doesn't necessarily mean he's a Dark Wizard, right?" Hermione said skeptically.
"I have my evidence! Remember that day in the room where the three-headed dog was kept? Do you recall what was underneath it?" Harry looked at his three companions expectantly.
Neville shook his head. "I don't have a good memory."
"There was something under the three-headed dog?" Ron maintained his usual level of cluelessness.
"...A trapdoor?" Hermione said after a moment of recollection.
"Exactly, the trapdoor! The fact that the three-headed dog was guarding it proves that there's something hidden underneath, and that something is likely what Dumbledore is trying to protect. The dog is there to guard it," Harry said with a face full of I've figured it out, speaking with utmost seriousness.
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