Making a Splash Comes at a Price

Aaron held the Golden Snitch on the pitch, sharing in the joy of victory with the rest of the house team.

Harry lowered his head guiltily, unable to look at Wood, who had placed such high hopes on him.

"Sorry. If I'd just tried a little harder..."

"There's no need to apologize. You did your best. At least this time, we lost fair and square." Wood comforted him. Though he was disappointed too, as a qualified captain, he knew how to ease his teammates' pressure.

"Exactly." The Weasley twins were also rather surprised. "This match was very unusual."

The other twin emphasized, "Especially unusual. Slytherin didn't commit a single foul. They actually played at a decent level."

"I know why. It seems that was one of Aaron's conditions for joining the house team—he wouldn't allow Slytherin to commit any fouls while he was playing." Harry raised his hand. This was the only useful piece of information he had obtained.

Wood raised an eyebrow. "It seems he truly loves Quidditch, and he's quite impressive. He actually managed to keep six unruly players in line. But that makes sense. Slytherin respects the strong. If Aaron were mediocre, Marcus would never have agreed to that condition."

"Not just that," Angelina said. "I don't know whether you noticed, but I did."

"Noticed what?" Harry asked.

"Aaron's fingers." Angelina pointed at Aaron in the distance. "They're still bleeding."

Several players looked over at once and saw blood dripping from Aaron's right hand, which he had hidden behind his back. They all drew sharp breaths.

Wood sighed and forced out a smile. "Harry, honestly, there's no shame in losing to him. At least, I've never seen an eleven-year-old player do something like that before. That must have hurt."

Harry nodded silently. No one blamed him, and he felt a little better.

After everyone left the pitch, Draco reluctantly returned the cat in his arms to Aaron. "Aaron, you were so cool just now. That was Slytherin's most glorious victory ever—we crushed Gryffindor by a full hundred and sixty points."

"Right? But I'm never doing that again."

"What? Why?"

"Because making a splash comes at a price." Aaron gave a bitter smile and opened his right hand. It was covered in blood.

"You're hurt?" Draco's eyes widened.

Abei showed the concern of a pet for its owner, biting off a piece of the scarf around its neck and doing its best to wrap Aaron's fingers.

Then it took a piece of candy from its clothing pocket and offered it to Aaron's mouth with its soft little paws.

This left Draco completely dumbfounded. As the heir to the Malfoy Family, he had seen every kind of pet imaginable, but one as sensible, loyal, and intelligent as Abei could probably only be found among rare magical creatures.

"Sometimes I really suspect it isn't a cat," Draco said in astonishment, then looked at Aaron's wound. "You should go to the hospital wing first!"

"It's nothing serious, just a scrape." Aaron rubbed Abei's dragon head. "It bled a little, but no bones were hurt. A simple bandage will do. With the potions I brought, I'll be as good as new after two days of rest."

Elsewhere, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid walked together.

Hermione told Harry and Hagrid about Snape casting a spell on the pitch, while Ron backed her up from the side.

"Nonsense. Why would Snape cast a spell on Harry's broom?" Hagrid refused to believe it. Would a professor harm his own student during a match? Obviously not.

"Who knows? But my broom really did go out of control. Aaron also said someone was trying to harm me, and now it seems very likely that person was Snape. He's been hostile toward me since the first day of school. He must have some dark secret."

"Haha!" Hagrid laughed loudly. "Harry, everyone has their own dark secrets. Me too. I keep lots of pets at school."

"Pets?" Ron paused. "I suddenly remembered the Three-headed Dog the three of us saw in that room along the right-hand corridor on the fourth floor."

"You've met Fluffy?"

"It has a name?" Hermione looked stunned. "That monster really is yours?"

"Of course. I bought it from an Irishman in a pub last year, then lent it to Dumbledore to guard..."

"Guard what?" Harry immediately asked.

"I can't say." Hagrid's voice suddenly dropped. Then he widened his eyes at the three of them and said sternly, "Stop asking. Don't ask any more questions. This is top secret. Anyway, it has nothing to do with you, and it's dangerous. What that dog guards concerns only Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."

"Nicolas Flamel?" Harry's lips curled up slightly, as if he had discovered a whole new continent.

Hagrid opened his mouth, then walked shamefacedly toward his hut, muttering nonstop, "I shouldn't have said that. I really shouldn't have let it slip. I really shouldn't have let it slip..."

"I have a feeling." Harry turned to Hermione and Ron. "Snape's goal may have something to do with what Fluffy is guarding."

"Harry, Snape did cast a spell on your broom, but that only proves he wanted to harm you. It might have nothing to do with what Fluffy is guarding," Hermione said. "That's too much of a stretch."

"No, it is connected." Harry suddenly thought of something. "What Fluffy is guarding was something Hagrid and I took out of Gringotts. Snape is a professor at the school, so he must know about it. Maybe he thinks I know what was inside that bag, which is why he's hostile toward me and tried to harm me during the match. I can't think of any other reason. After all, Snape and I have no grievance against each other. He has no other reason to hurt me."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. They had to admit that Harry's speculation was fairly logical, and they reluctantly believed him.

"Do either of you know who Nicolas Flamel is?"

"No," Hermione said. "But we can look him up in the library when we have time."

The next day, the pitch was once again packed with noisy spectators.

Aaron withdrew from the house team after the first match, and Terence resumed his position as Seeker.

Even so, Slytherin's strength was not to be underestimated.

Since Aaron had defeated Harry Potter, Snape was in an especially good mood and allowed him to sit in the teachers' stand to watch the match.

It was a gesture of goodwill from the Head of House, and Aaron could hardly refuse. At Hogwarts, it was very necessary to maintain a good relationship with the Head of House, who was also the Potions Master.

"You seem rather unhappy," Snape asked flatly.

"What do you think, Professor?" Aaron held Abei and yawned. "Not everyone enjoys watching matches, especially during naptime."

"Mr. Gaius, there may be something wrong with your way of thinking. Some matches need not be watched, but this is Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. As a member of Slytherin—and yesterday's star who defeated Harry Potter—it would be hard to justify not coming to cheer for your house."

"Don't make it sound like Slytherin would lose without me. I still miss my dorm bed more. Besides, I did what I promised you. We don't owe each other anything now. Giving up my precious nap to come watch a match with you is already showing you plenty of respect." Aaron met Snape's cold sidelong glance.

Gulp!

Aaron's Adam's apple bobbed, and he glared right back.

No matter what, he could not lose in terms of presence. He knew perfectly well that Snape would never deduct points from Slytherin just because Aaron annoyed him.

Gradually, both their eyes grew sore. It was only when Madam Hooch blew her whistle and announced Slytherin's victory that they blinked, then turned their heads away at the same time.

As they were leaving, Hermione ran over and stopped Aaron.

"Miss Granger, don't tell me you're here to ask Professor Flitwick about charms again today." Snape looked at Hermione coldly. He had sensed that something was wrong yesterday. Flitwick had clearly made it up on the spot, and that clumsy, stiff acting could never fool someone who had been acting for more than a decade.

At the time, Harry Potter's safety had been at stake, so he had not had the opportunity to investigate further. But this time, Hermione Granger had delivered herself right to him. If he did not find an excuse to deduct a few points from Gryffindor, then he might as well not be Slytherin's Head of House.

"Ahem, Miss Granger, because..."

"Hermione, you're right on time." Aaron suddenly spoke, catching Snape off guard and making him swallow the rest of his words.

He stared blankly at his student, hoping for an explanation.

"Er... Professor, Hermione and I have something to discuss, so I asked her to come here. You've always been so magnanimous. Surely you won't hold it against us?"

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched involuntarily. Drawing upon the bearing of a Head of House, he gritted his teeth and said, "I won't."

After saying those two words, Snape walked down from the stand. When he passed Hermione, he paused and lowered his voice. "Miss Granger, I won't say that I hope there won't be a next time, because there are simply too many Gryffindors who refuse to learn their lesson. What I will say is that you had better hope someone is there to cover for you next time."