Quidditch Match

On a cold November morning, the Quidditch stadium buzzed with excitement. The Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match was underway. Harry Potter, the Seeker, weaved through the air on his Nimbus 2000, searching for the Golden Snitch.

Silas, wrapped in a thick cloak, sat with Hermione and Ron in the Gryffindor stands. He wasn't particularly interested in Quidditch itself; he was mainly there for the spectacle and to see if Harry's broom was truly as responsive as rumored.

Suddenly, chaos erupted!

Harry's broom began to shake violently, twisting like a wild horse trying to buck him off! Harry clung to the broomstick handle with all his might, his body swaying precariously in the air, on the verge of being thrown off!

"What's wrong with Harry's broom?!" Hermione shrieked in terror.

Ron's face turned pale with fear. "It's like it's been cursed!"

A gasp rippled through the stands. Silas's gaze, however, sharply swept towards the staff stands. He immediately spotted Professor Quirrell, head bowed, lips moving silently and rapidly, his eyes locked onto Harry in the air—it was him casting the spell!

Silas's eyes turned cold, a surge of anger rushing to his head. Without a second thought, he raised his right hand, his magic surging within him.

But just as the spell was about to leave his lips, he forcefully stopped himself. He abruptly remembered Dumbledore's "oath," and more importantly, he realized Quirrell's target was Harry, and he hadn't been directly provoked.

In a flash, he changed his mind. He spread the fingers of his right hand, aimed at Quirrell in the staff stands, and a beam of bright red energy shot out!

"Sekern Red Belt!"

Whoosh—!

Several searing, red energy ropes, like red-hot irons, precisely coiled around the arm Professor Quirrell was using to cast the spell! The ropes tightened instantly, their powerful binding force not only interrupting his curse but also immobilizing his entire arm, rendering him unable to move!

"Aaaargh—!" Quirrell let out an exaggerated, terrified scream (which was, of course, fake). "What's going on?! Who's attacking me?!"

Harry's broom immediately returned to normal, and he steadied himself, still shaken.

"Silas!" Hermione grabbed Silas's arm, disbelief etched on her face. "What are you doing?! Why did you attack Professor Quirrell?!"

Silas pointed at Quirrell, his voice filled with rage. "Can't you see? He was the one cursing Harry's broom just now! If Professor Snape hadn't been watching nearby, countering it, Harry would have been splattered on the ground by now! This damned guy!"

He grew angrier as he spoke, looking at Quirrell's feigned innocent face, especially the scarf on his head that reeked of garlic (and Voldemort's aura). Malice surged within him:

"Damn it! Just looking at you makes me angry! You don't even pay attention in class! That garlic-smelling scarf almost made me puke the first day! I'm dragging you over right now and ripping off that damned scarf of yours that's hiding something dirty! Let everyone see what kind of person you are!"

As he spoke, he willed it, and the Sekern Red Belt immediately exerted a powerful pull, dragging the screaming and struggling Quirrell, about to pull him from the staff stands!

The scene caused an uproar throughout the stadium! The students were stunned, and the professors all stood up.

Professor Snape, standing not far from Quirrell, watched as Quirrell, bound tightly by the red energy ropes and being forcibly dragged, his perpetually gloomy face showed the slightest upward twitch at the corner of his mouth. A flicker of satisfaction and admiration crossed his dark eyes.

Snape's inner monologue: Well done, kid. Reckless as it may be, you hit the right target.

He knew Quirrell was problematic and had been secretly vigilant and resisting. Silas's impulsive action, though disrupting his plans, had, in the most direct way, torn Quirrell's disguise in public, bringing him immense satisfaction.

The situation became extremely chaotic, with Silas stirring up Hogwarts' currents in his unique way. Professor Quirrell (and the one on the back of his head) found himself in a sudden, extremely awkward crisis.

Just as Quirrell lost his balance from the pull of the Sekern Red Belt and stumbled towards the Gryffindor stands, a golden light flashed before Silas. A massive portal instantly opened! The other side was not anywhere within the castle, but a desolate open area outside Hogsmeade Village, far from the castle!

"Go in, you!" Silas roared, not letting go but instead charging forward himself, crashing into the golden portal along with the bound-up Professor Quirrell!

The portal closed rapidly behind them, disappearing without a trace.

The Quidditch stadium fell into dead silence.

Everyone stared, dumbfounded, at the empty spot in the staff stands and the vacant area in front of the Gryffindor stands, as if the shocking scene had never happened.

However, the next second, a figure shot up from the VIP box!

It was Albus Dumbledore!

The usually calm and collected Headmaster, who seemed to have everything under control, now showed clear anxiety and shock on his face for the first time! His blue eyes, always twinkling with wisdom, were filled with unprecedented worry!

He was flustered! He was truly flustered!

This anxiety stemmed from two sources, like ice and fire intertwined, instantly stripping him of his usual composure:

On one hand, it was the direct concern for the safety of the student Silas Cyril! He knew too well what was attached to the back of Quirrell's head—it was the brutal, powerful, inhuman Voldemort! Although Silas was exceptionally talented and possessed peculiar magic that even he couldn't fully comprehend, he was still just a first-year student! Sending him alone to face (even a weakened) Voldemort was akin to sending a lamb to the slaughter! Dumbledore could almost foresee the horrific scene of Silas being instantly killed by the Killing Curse! This child was someone he had observed for a long time, someone in whom he held a special kind of hope, and he absolutely could not let him perish like this!

On the other hand, and more deeply, what made him burn with impatience was the disruption of his carefully laid plans! He had intended to use this academic year to allow Harry to gradually face Voldemort under relatively controlled risks, tempering his courage and will, and ultimately completing his first true confrontation and growth at the Philosopher's Stone. This was his cultivation plan for Harry Potter—the "Boy Who Lived"—and a crucial link in his long-term strategy against Voldemort!

But now, Silas, a "variable" completely outside his plan, had used such a crude and direct method to turn Harry and Voldemort's "first official duel" into his own encounter with Voldemort! This completely threw Dumbledore's rhythm off! If Voldemort were to be unexpectedly dealt with by Silas at this moment (though the possibility was extremely low), or if Silas were killed by Voldemort, or if the Philosopher's Stone plan were exposed or failed because of this... the consequences were unimaginable!

"Severus!" Dumbledore's voice lost its usual gentleness, carrying an unquestionable command and urgency. "Take people and find them immediately! Ensure Mr. Cyril's safety! Quickly!"

He didn't even have time for further explanation. A Phoenix-shaped Patronus flew from his wand tip to notify the other professors. He himself picked up his wand, clearly preparing to go personally.

The Quidditch match was forcibly interrupted, and the entire stadium descended into chaos and speculation. Meanwhile, the instigator of all this, Silas Cyril, along with the possessed Quirrell, had disappeared from everyone's sight, stepping into an unknown, deadly territory.