Cedric: Huh?

Chapter 77 Cedric: Huh?

For a while after the start of the semester, things were relatively peaceful—ever since Voldemort's mental power was completely analyzed, and with the inspiration gained from the dragon egg, the development of magic traps had accelerated significantly and would be completed in about a month or two. Avada Kedavra already had enough knowledge, so there was no need to sneak into the forbidden book area every day.

Baron knew he had important business to attend to, so he didn't bother him too much. He also gave him the address of the deluxe intelligence booster—the bottle he received for Christmas didn't even last two weeks. It turned out the thing cost an outrageous fifteen Gallons a bottle, three or four times the price of a regular intelligence booster. Avada was shocked when he first received the bill.

Fortunately, the compensation from the Bureau of Mysteries was more than he could ever spend, and his finances could still afford such expenses.

Harry must have told Ron and Hermione about the Philosopher's Stone and Avada's current situation, which is why the three of them haven't been seen searching for things in the library like they did last semester. Instead, they always give each other an encouraging smile whenever they see Avada...

"Well, I'm already grateful those three didn't bombard me with questions. But it's probably thanks to me mentioning Dumbledore's name..."

As Avada pondered this, he took a sip of his tea, put down his pen, and looked up at Shabby: "So what's so special about this Quidditch match? There are still two matches left until the finals, aren't there? We've already seen Harry Potter's Nimbus 2000, and Cedric's counter-strategy was quite sophisticated..."

"Dumbledore is coming to watch the game in person!"

Shabby excitedly exclaimed, "Our headmaster is so busy, and he's never been very interested in Quidditch. He usually doesn't even come to the school's finals every year, but this time he came in person!"

"I don't know why, but the fact that it has piqued Dumbledore's interest means this match must be something special!"

"Yes, there's something fishy going on. We need to keep an eye on Voldemort..."

While inwardly grumbling, Avada took another sip of tea before calmly replying, "Is it possible that he's here to supervise Professor Snape, who suddenly became the referee, and to prevent him from deducting too many points from Gryffindor?"

"Impossible, absolutely impossible!"

The Quidditch captain, who was taking a stroll nearby, immediately objected: "Quidditch isn't a regular class, what right does he have to deduct points? Besides, he doesn't understand Quidditch, even if he wanted to find fault with a Gryffindor player, he couldn't..."

"What if he insists on choosing?"

"Then Professor McGonagall will probably throw tomatoes at him."

The captain muttered, "But why did Professor Snape suddenly have to be the referee? He doesn't know anything about Quidditch, and we're the ones facing Gryffindor, not Slytherins..."

"But if that's the case, Snape will definitely side with us to target Gryffindor, right? Wouldn't that be an unfair victory?"

"Actually, it's not bad. It's just enough to make up for the gap caused by Nimbus 2000."

Avada lowered his head again, put down his teacup, and continued writing and drawing in his notebook: "Alright, I'll go take a look later, just to relax a bit."

"That's more like it... So why did Snape even bother being the referee?"

"..."

Avada was also a little confused: even Dumbledore went in person, so why did Snape need to personally go down to protect Harry? And his presence itself was affecting Harry's performance... wait, he wouldn't be happy about this, would he?

It saved your life and disgusted the person who killed you—perfect.

As expected of you, Professor.

……

So, two days later, at the Quidditch pitch, Hufflepuff faced Gryffindor.

The players on both sides of the field wore excited expressions, with Harry being the most excited—Merlin above him, he had almost died of fright when he first heard that Snape was coming to referee. Dumbledore's arrival was like a ray of sunshine after a long period of despair for him.

Moreover, he had learned from Avada that Dumbledore already knew someone was after the Philosopher's Stone, which greatly reduced his psychological pressure—at least he didn't have to worry about it every day and could focus on training Quidditch without any distractions.

"Both sides mounted flying brooms."

Snape stood in the middle, his face grim, and read in a monotone, emotionless voice before blowing his whistle.

"...The Nimbus 2000 surpasses Seven Stars in speed, turning ability, and braking, while even a genius like Savior has barely managed to control that broom. Therefore, to help Cedric defeat the Snitch, our team needs to expand our reach as much as possible, ensuring that wherever the Snitch appears, someone is there to intercept him immediately..."

Shabby is currently playing on the pitch, so the person in charge of explaining to Avada and the other Quidditch newbies is fifth-year student Roff—he's already busy enough with his OWLS exams and teaching assistant to Professor Kettleburn, Quidditch is practically the only place he can relax.

"However, the downside of this is that the defense becomes more disorganized, making it difficult to stop the opponent when they break through. You see, Gryffindor has already scored two goals in a row, but it's okay, everything is within our expectations..."

"Look, Professor Snape did give us a penalty kick! That's how we made up for our disorganized defense!"

Avada: ...

What happened to everyone being honest people?

The person who devised this tactic, making such meticulous use of every factor both on and off the field, must not have been sent by Slytherin.

Oh, I wasn't honest either, never mind then.

"With these two free throws, the points difference is now even. And Harry, as always, chose to stay away from the contact zone, searching for the Snitch high in the air, completely unaware of our tactics! We've got this in the bag..."

"Don't!"

Before anyone could cover Ralph's mouth, Harry lunged at Snape, nearly knocking him off his broom...

"Attack the referee, Potter!"

Snape, his face pale, barked angrily, "Hufflepuff, penalty!"

"No, Professor."

Harry couldn't help but smile as he held up the newly acquired Golden Snitch high in front of Snape: "It's over! I caught the Snitch!"

The stands erupted in cheers: This would be a new record; nobody could remember a time when a thief had been caught so quickly in a match!

Cedric and the other Hufflepuffs: ...

Well, all the tactics were meticulously planned, but the Snitch just happened to appear right under the Seeker's nose...

Harry leaped from his flying broomstick a foot off the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it—the match was over, lasting less than five minutes, and he'd humiliated Snape right in front of him… As the Gryffindors surged onto the field, Snape landed beside him, pale-faced and his lips pressed tightly together…

"What did I tell you? Don't discuss the outcome before the dust has settled!"

Facing the resentful gazes of the Hufflepuffs, Ralph forced a dry laugh: "I think..."

"Stop trying to deny it! I'll take your job away from you!"

This is a curse that causes a feeling of fullness that lasts for half a day after being hit, making it impossible to enjoy food. It is quite vicious to Hufflepuff and is often used in Hufflepuff civil wars.

An hour later, Harry left the dressing room alone, his heart pounding with more joy than ever: he had finally done something truly worth being proud of—no one would ever again say he was just a name with a bang. The night air had never felt so sweet, and the scene from the past hour replayed in his mind: the Gryffindors running over and hoisting him onto their shoulders; Ron and Hermione jumping up and down in the distance…

He went to the broom shed, leaned against the wooden door, and looked up at Hogwarts, its windows gleaming red in the setting sun. Gryffindor was in the lead. He had succeeded; he had finally gotten Snape…

Snape?

A hooded figure quickly descended the castle's main steps, clearly trying to avoid being seen, and sped towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry watched, his initial triumphant joy fading. He recognized the figure's furtive gait—it was Snape. He had sneaked into the Forbidden Forest while everyone else was having dinner.

What does he want to do?

(End of this chapter)