For Harry, flying was a relaxed and carefree thing. His broomstick was like an extension of his legs, and the entire sky was his playground...
A minute ago, he'd indeed thought this way.
As for now, Harry clutched his bucking broom tightly, hoping he wouldn't be shaken off.
If he fell, not only would his Quidditch career end, but his life too...
The first to notice Harry's abnormal performance was Ron, who'd been watching his movements since takeoff. He was certain Harry wasn't a rookie who couldn't control his own broom.
"Terry, look! Something's wrong with Harry!"
Terry was startled when he turned around. Harry's broom wasn't just bucking anymore; it was swaying like waves with Harry on it.
This could no longer be explained by "inability to control the broom".
"Is the broom malfunctioning?" Terry asked.
"Impossible. Wood just checked Harry's broom this morning. It was fine then. This is a Nimbus 2000; it can't possibly malfunction after flying for such a short time, right?"
"Besides, Harry was flying fine just now, without many collisions..."
Ron was already running toward Sterling's position. Though Sterling had been dragged over by them, he'd given up the stands closest to the Quidditch pitch because he disliked crowding with too many people.
He was in the back row of the Ravenclaw stands, scanning around with binoculars.
"Sterling! Sterling!"
"Harry's in trouble, right? I already know."
Sterling lowered his binoculars and replied to Ron, then continued looking around. Ron noticed Sterling was actually observing the various stands.
"He should be under someone's spell."
"Is it Malfoy? That nasty guy definitely wants Harry to make a fool of himself in his first match!"
Ron was indignant. If Malfoy were in front of him now, he'd probably resort to physical combat.
"Impossible. I remember you introduced the Nimbus 2000 in Utopia before. It has strong anti-curse capabilities, not something school students could affect... Though we can't rule out Dark magical artefacts..."
Sterling aimed his binoculars at the Slytherin stands, where Malfoy's platinum hair stood out prominently. He was cheering for Slytherin with Goyle and Crabbe.
He had nothing in his hands. Not him.
Sterling refocused on the teachers' stands. He most suspected problems within the professor ranks.
In terms of ability, professors' magic could break through broomstick protections; in terms of record, Quirrell was still serving as fertiliser for plant growth in the Forbidden Forest.
However... Sterling couldn't identify a suspect.
Only one person on the entire teachers' stand was acting inappropriately. Snape, who was staring at Harry while muttering under his breath.
Had he done this?
Sterling's instincts told him no, but Snape was currently the most suspicious person at the Quidditch match.
Trust instincts or...
No, there was another way.
Sterling had Ron find Hermione to help observe together. Once alone, a heavy book and black quill appeared in his hands.
"Harry Potter"
The moment the name hit the book, golden letters rushed out eagerly.
"Harry Potter suffers from a curse by ——— hiding in ———; though ——— has lost half his spellcasting ability, his curse cannot be countered by Snape's counter-curse... Harry Potter will fall and break both legs."
Three words were shrouded in grey-white paint, unclear.
But Sterling could already determine who it was. Voldemort, Tom, no second option.
"For modification... the most efficient method would be changing 'break both legs' to 'land safely', but Harry would still endure the fear and pain of falling."
What if he directly modified Voldemort's "cursing process"?
Would subsequent events strictly follow recorded reality or adapt to changes?
Sterling had wanted to modify the blurry "hiding in ———" to "hiding in Antarctica." No matter how terrifying the curse, it had limits, especially with Voldemort having lost half his spellcasting ability.
Whether sight-curse or medium-curse, the distance from Antarctica to England could nullify it.
But before his quill touched down, enormous danger enveloped Sterling. He sensed what would happen after writing this...
He would lose massive stamina, even damage his health permanently, leaving a chronic vitality deficiency.
The cost was too great.
So his quill turned, writing "hiding in France".
This modification went smoothly. Though it drained Sterling's stamina completely, leaving him weak against the chair back, it didn't damage his body.
Just as the letters sank back into the pages, he heard deafening cheers from the Gryffindor stands.
Gold and red banners waved, touring the stands. Harry flew high above, his raised hand gripping a still-fluttering Golden Snitch.
"Harry caught the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor gains one hundred fifty points; match over. Gryffindor wins!"
The commentator's excited voice echoed across the pitch.
"Right after Harry stabilised his broom, the Golden Snitch flew past his eyes... What enviable luck."
Terry squeezed through crowds to Sterling's side, helping him up.
"Want to congratulate Harry? Though we probably can't push through Gryffindor's encirclement. I bet they'll toss Harry up and catch him in celebration."
"Wait, wait..."
Sterling had Terry support him standing. Somehow his activated magical sight focused on Harry flying groundward.
Once again, golden threads formed around him.
Not the terrifying scale from school opening, but enough to envelop a person. After splitting, it not only merged into everyone at the Quidditch pitch but largely merged into that Golden Snitch.
The Golden Snitch originally had no threads. Afterwards, it possessed a golden thread connecting to Harry.
This sense of déjà vu...
Sterling drew his wand. He'd grown accustomed to wandless magic, rarely using his wand.
When first examining his wand, only a tiny light point existed at the tip.
Now, a blue-pink thread connected Sterling and his wand.
"Terry... I think I understand..."
"Understand what? Finally realised you've been too cold toward your wand? Frankly, even superior wandless magic masters wouldn't completely avoid using wands in daily life."
Terry drew his wand. Many handle edges had been worn smooth, but thanks to good maintenance, it looked no different from when first obtained.
Sterling looked at Terry's wand. Indeed, a purple thread faintly connected them.
"It's stories."
Or rather, "traces left in the world".
"What stories?" Terry looked at him puzzledly.
"Nothing, nothing. Shall we ask the house-elves in the kitchen to make Harry a cake? We can't squeeze into Gryffindor's celebration anyway."
"I'll call Padma and Hermione together... We can find Hannah first. Hufflepuffs better understand communicating with those elves."
Watching Terry run to find Hermione and the others, Sterling finally didn't need to hide his joy.
The question that had puzzled him for years had such a simple answer.
"What's wrong with this little eagle?"
A fifth-year Hufflepuff upperclassman gestured to her friend. They looked at the laughing child, exchanging confused glances.
"Gryffindor won. What's Ravenclaw so happy about?"
"Who knows? You know Ravenclaws have always been weird. Let's hurry away..."