Before Harry could react, he noticed Hermione sneaking toward the staff-only area.
What was she planning to do?
For a moment, Harry forgot to keep casting the Stopping Charm on his broom, resulting in a violent jolt that nearly threw him off.
"Wow—!" came exclamations from the stands.
"What is Hermione doing?" asked Ron, holding his binoculars but unable to spot her, anxiously turning to Hagrid.
"I don't know either," replied Hagrid, unconsciously clasping his hands together and focusing intensely on praying for Harry.
From above, Harry watched Hermione squeeze between the rows of seats. Before she could do anything, the force making his broom shake disappeared.
What just happened? he wondered, watching Hermione cast a small flame at Snape's robes.
"You're on fire!" someone shouted near Snape. The professor, who had been closely watching the charm affecting Harry's broom, snapped out of his trance and hurriedly rose to put out the flames on his tunic. He looked genuinely distressed.
Harry was confused. What was going on?
But there was no time to think. As soon as he got distracted, a golden glimmer shot past his eyes.
It was the Golden Snitch!
In an instant, Harry turned his broom downward and, at lightning speed, snatched it.
He raised his hand, the Snitch whistling lightly in his palm.
"Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor earns 150 points!" shouted Lee Jordan, thrilled. "Gryffindor wins 170 to 60!"
Madame Hooch, also on her broom, blew her whistle to end the match.
"Gryffindor wins!"
Harry landed softly on the field, and his teammates, ecstatic, ran to surround him, cheering loudly.
"Potter! Potter! Potter!"
The Weasley twins, in particular, moved as if they were mirror images, perfectly synchronized, even their chants were identical.
"Professor McGonagall!" Harry shouted, holding the Snitch up toward her at the edge of the crowd. "I caught the Golden Snitch!"
Professor McGonagall, however, walked toward him, looking concerned.
"Potter, what happened to you? Did something go wrong with your broom?"
"It's nothing, Professor," Harry lied. "I just couldn't hold the broom. I was so nervous my hands were sweaty and slippery—"
"I see." The professor smiled, crossing her arms. "Excellent! Excellent! We won!"
"We won!" Wood raised his fist and roared. "Finally, we beat Slytherin!"
Ever since he had joined Gryffindor, they had never defeated Slytherin in Quidditch…
After celebrating a little on the field, Harry politely declined the invitation to return to the Gryffindor common room with his teammates. Instead, Hermione and Ron pulled him toward Hagrid's hut.
"It was Snape!" Hermione said with conviction. "Ron and I saw it clearly. He was casting a spell on your broom, muttering to himself, his eyes fixed on you."
"Nonsense!" Hagrid replied, fully focused on Harry and not noticing Snape's actions. "How could that be possible?"
"I just saw someone cast a fire spell on Snape's robes, and then your broom stopped shaking," Hermione said. "That's enough proof that Snape was the one casting the spell."
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Hagrid exclaimed, frowning beneath his thick eyebrows. "Professor Snape is a teacher at Hogwarts. He would have no reason to do such a thing. Now tell me, if you truly suspect him, why would he do this?"
Yes, why?
Hermione opened her mouth, unsure what to say, while Ron intervened:
"You know, Snape is head of Slytherin. He never wanted Gryffindor to surpass Slytherin in house points, so he did this…"
"That's impossible too!" Hagrid fired back. "If it had been someone else cursed, maybe what you're saying would make sense—but Harry, absolutely impossible!"
"Why not?" asked Ron, perplexed.
"Don't ask. I won't say a word." Hagrid stopped abruptly, unwilling to gossip about old grudges from the previous generation. He had promised Dumbledore and Snape to keep such matters secret.
"Still, Hermione," Harry said, trying to distract her before she insisted further, "I'm curious about Hagrid's motives too, but since he's not willing to talk, I don't want to pressure him."
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, turning to him.
"I noticed when you climbed onto the stands," Harry said softly. "My broom stopped shaking before you cast the spell on Snape—he was still watching me while you spoke the spell, but the broom didn't move an inch."
"How did you see that?" exclaimed Ron, astonished. "Mate, you wear glasses."
"It's an essential skill for a Seeker, isn't it?" Harry replied, offering a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Hermione stood and began pacing the hut, one hand on her elbow, the other supporting her chin, frowning as if talking to herself.
"If that's the case, then who else could it be? Harry, are you really sure?"
"I think Professor Snape may not like me, but he's certainly not trying to kill me," Harry said with conviction.
Then he changed the subject, raising another question.
"What I don't understand is: Headmaster Dumbledore was right there in the stands. Why didn't he stop my broom from being cursed?"
"Or better yet, why did someone dare curse my broom right in front of Headmaster Dumbledore?"
Ron had a sudden idea and raised a finger.
"Hmm? Could Dumbledore have ordered it?"
Before he could finish, Hermione elbowed him.
"Ronald! What are you thinking? Has Hogwarts become the Death Eaters' lair?" She was furious, like an enraged lioness.
Ron stuck out his tongue, scratched his head, and said, "Of course I know it's not that, I was just trying to lighten the mood."
But clearly, the atmosphere had grown even tenser.
"Of course I don't doubt Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry said firmly, tapping his finger on the table unconsciously, "I'm just questioning why he did nothing."
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