Senior Dumbledore's Crisis

The match began. Harry rode leisurely through the sky on his broomstick, searching for any sign of the Golden Snitch.

"Just stay to the side," Wood leaned over and said. "Only go after it when you spot the Snitch. We don't want you getting attacked too early."

"Okay, Captain," Harry said with a nod.

"Beautiful! Gryffindor Chaser Angelina Johnson snatched the ball in midair, then spun into a sharp, spiraling dash and looped around! She actually shook off every opponent with that spinning flight—the Slytherin defender behind her desperately grabbed at her trousers, but still couldn't stop her! Gryffindor scores ten points!" commentator Lee Jordan shouted.

"Yeah!" Cheers from three houses erupted from the stands, mixed with Slytherin's furious roars.

After Gryffindor scored, it was Slytherin's turn to counterattack.

But because Gryffindor's Keeper, Wood, was simply too outstanding, they could not get past him to throw the ball through any of the hoops.

"Look, Gryffindor is counterattacking again—beautiful! Alicia Spinnet, a talent Oliver Wood spotted with his sharp eye, was only a reserve player last year..." Lee Jordan practically rattled it all off in one breath. "Merlin's beard, the ball was intercepted by Slytherin captain Flint! Let's see how Gryffindor responds next—oh! Beautiful! Fred's interception was no worse than the last one!"

"Oh no, what was Fred doing with that pass? He actually passed it straight to a Slytherin player—Merlin's beard, Gryffindor was practically ready to give up, but then a miracle descended from the heavens! A careless long pass was knocked away, bounced off Angelina's well-developed chest muscles, and Angelina seized the chance to throw it into the hoop! Gryffindor scores again!"

The moment Lee Jordan finished that rapid-fire commentary, Professor McGonagall smacked him on the back of the head.

"You are not allowed to comment on things unrelated to the match!" Professor McGonagall glared at him.

Lee Jordan could only continue commentating obediently, though he had lost the spark he had before.

Gryffindor seized another opportunity to mount an attack. Harry had been observing from above when he heard Wood's terrified shout.

"Harry! No!"

Harry tapped his clothing and activated the Shield Charm he had placed over his armor.

Flint, who had struck the Bludger, wore a malicious grin. He was already imagining Gryffindor's little Seeker being knocked from the sky.

Yet, to everyone's surprise, a dull thud sounded in the air.

Harry was completely unharmed, while the Bludger bounced away with a squealing whine.

"Harry, are you all right?" Fred hurried over and smashed the Bludger hard in Flint's direction.

"I'm fine." Harry brushed off his clothes, not looking flustered in the slightest.

The moment he finished answering, he spotted a streak of golden light.

The Golden Snitch! He immediately lowered the front of his broom and accelerated after it.

Slytherin's Seeker, Terence Higgins, saw it too. The two flew side by side toward the Snitch—at that moment, the Chasers seemed to have forgotten their own duties entirely, hovering in midair one after another as they watched the fierce contest between the two with bated breath.

Harry's broom was superior, and his flying skills were better than Higgins's. He was already two lengths ahead.

"Watch out!" Angelina's shrill warning came from above.

Harry had naturally noticed Marcus Flint charging toward him. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the collision.

He also quietly bent his arm, ready to defend and counterattack with his hardest weapon—his elbow.

Bang!

With a dull impact, Flint let out a scream and flew away like a kite with its string cut.

Harry turned his head and gave Flint, still suspended in midair, a wicked grin.

Ah, this felt far too good.

But he did not have long to celebrate before he felt the front of his broom suddenly dip downward.

What was going on?

Harry hastily pulled the broom back up, narrowly avoiding a crash.

Then came violent shaking, as though the broom had developed a will of its own and was trying to throw him off.

Who was it? Who had cursed my broom?

Harry's first thought was that someone was trying to harm him, but he had been at Hogwarts for so long and had not made enemies with anyone.

Malfoy? No, that boy might hate me, but he doesn't have the ability.

His right hand gripped the broom tightly while his left slapped its handle.

"Finite!" he shouted.

The broom quickly stabilized, but before Harry could breathe a sigh of relief, it began shaking violently again.

"Harry, look at Harry!" From the Gryffindor stands, Ron pointed up at the sky and shouted in terror. "Harry's broom is out of control!"

Hermione snatched the binoculars from Neville's hands and held them to her eyes.

"That shouldn't be possible—with Harry's flying ability, and with this being the new broom Professor McGonagall gave him, how could something like this happen?" Ron muttered anxiously beside her.

"I know!" Hermione replied urgently. "Just be quiet, Ron! Let me see what's happening!"

She immediately turned the binoculars toward Snape and found exactly what she had expected.

"I should have guessed long ago!" Hermione lowered the binoculars and shoved them into Ron's arms. "Look, it's Snape! Snape is up to something! His eyes have been fixed on Harry, and he keeps muttering under his breath. He must be trying to hurt Harry!"

"But why?" Ron asked in confusion. "Wasn't he a good friend of Harry's parents? Why would he curse Harry?"

"Never mind that!" Hermione looked up at Harry worriedly, then said to Ron, "Watch me."

With that, she abandoned Ron and hurried away from the Gryffindor stands.

Tianshan sensed that Harry was still struggling against the broom. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced toward the High Table and saw Headmaster Dumbledore sitting firmly in his seat, showing no intention whatsoever of helping.

Seriously, Headmaster Dumbledore, you're just going to watch?

He silently complained, You're really going to watch your senior get thrown off a broom?

Harry kept casting Finite on the broom and swaying from side to side, pretending he could barely control it, while observing his surroundings to find out what was happening.

He could have landed on the ground, but if he did that, it would be difficult to expose whoever had cursed him.

Better to use this chance to find out who bore him ill will.

With that thought, Harry cast a Long-Distance Vision Charm on himself and turned his gaze toward the staff seats. There, he noticed Snape staring intently at him, muttering under his breath.

Could it be him?