Is Hogwarts a Death Eater Den?

Before Harry could react, he noticed Hermione sneaking toward the Faculty Table.

What was she going to do?

For a moment, Harry forgot to keep casting the Stopping Charm on the broomstick. It gave a violent shake and nearly threw him off.

"Whoa—" Waves of startled cries rose from the stands.

"What is Hermione going to do?" Ron clutched his binoculars, but he could not spot Hermione anywhere. He anxiously turned to Hagrid.

"I don't know either," Hagrid answered absently. His hands were clasped together as he prayed for Harry with all his focus.

From the air, Harry watched Hermione squeeze her way onto the faculty stands. Before Hermione could do anything, he felt the force tossing his broomstick about disappear.

What's going on? he wondered, watching as Hermione set Snape's robes on fire.

"You're on fire!" someone beside Snape shouted. Snape, who had been staring intently at Harry's broomstick and muttering a spell, finally came to his senses. He hurriedly stood and beat at the flames on his robes.

From the way he looked, he truly seemed heartbroken over that robe.

Harry was puzzled. What exactly was going on?

But Harry had no time to think it through. Just as he lost himself in thought, a streak of golden light suddenly flashed past his eyes.

The Golden Snitch!

In an instant, Harry turned his broom and dipped sharply downward. With quick eyes and swift hands, he reached out and snatched the Snitch from the air.

He raised his hand high, the Golden Snitch buzzing in his grasp.

"Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch! One hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan shouted excitedly. "The Gryffindor team wins, one hundred and seventy to sixty!"

Madam Hooch flew over on her broomstick and blew the whistle signaling the end of the match.

"Gryffindor wins!"

Harry landed lightly on the ground. His ecstatic teammates descended one after another, surrounding him and cheering at the top of their lungs.

"Potter! Potter! Potter!"

The Weasley twins in particular were like copies of one another. Not only were their movements perfectly synchronized, even their chants were exactly the same.

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry held the Golden Snitch high and called to Professor McGonagall at the edge of the crowd. "I caught the Golden Snitch!"

Yet Professor McGonagall walked over and asked with concern, "Potter, what happened just now? Was there something wrong with your broomstick?"

"I'm fine, Professor." Harry chose to lie. "I lost my grip on the broom. I was too nervous, and my hands were sweaty, so they slipped—"

"I see." Professor McGonagall smiled, clasping her hands like a maiden as she bounced with delight. "Wonderful, wonderful! We won!"

"We won!" Wood raised a clenched fist high and roared, "We finally beat Slytherin!"

God knew that ever since he had enrolled, Gryffindor had never beaten Slytherin at Quidditch...

After celebrating on the field for a while, Harry politely declined his teammates' invitation to return with them to the Gryffindor Common Room. Instead, Hermione and Ron pulled him into Hagrid's Hut.

"Snape did it!" Hermione said with certainty. "Ron and I both saw it clearly. He was muttering a spell at your Flying Broomstick, and he never took his eyes off you."

"Nonsense!" Hagrid retorted. His attention had been entirely on Harry just then, and he had not noticed Snape's actions at all. "How could that be possible?"

"I went up to the stands and cast a Fire-Making Spell on Snape's robes. Then Harry's broom stopped shaking," Hermione said. "That proves Snape was the one casting the spell."

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Hagrid argued, his thick eyebrows twisting together. "Professor Snape is a Hogwarts professor. He has no reason to do something like that. Since you suspect him, tell me—why would he do it?"

Yes, why?

Hermione opened her mouth, unable to find an answer. Ron, however, argued, "You know Snape is the head of Slytherin. He has never wanted Gryffindor's House points to surpass Slytherin's, so that's why he did it..."

"Still impossible!" Hagrid said irritably. "If someone else had been cursed, then what you said might be possible—but Harry? Absolutely impossible!"

"Why?" Ron asked in astonishment.

"Don't ask. I won't say anything." Hagrid quickly stopped himself. He did not want to gossip about the grudges of the previous generation.

Besides, he had already promised Dumbledore and Snape to keep those matters strictly confidential.

"But, Hermione." Seeing that Hermione still wanted to press Hagrid, Harry spoke up to distract her.

He wanted to know Hagrid's reason too, but since Hagrid did not wish to say, Harry did not want to force him.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione turned and asked.

"I noticed when you climbed onto the faculty stands," Harry said quietly. "Before you cast your spell on Snape, my broomstick had already stopped shaking—he was still staring at me and chanting, but the broom showed no sign of shaking at all."

"Bloody Hell, how did you see that?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Buddy, you were wearing glasses."

"That's an essential skill for a Seeker, isn't it?" Harry offered an irrefutable excuse.

Hermione stood up and paced back and forth inside Hagrid's Hut. One hand supported her elbow while the other cradled her chin. Frowning, she seemed to be 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 very much, but he definitely wasn't trying to kill me," Harry said firmly.

Then he changed the subject and raised another question.

"What I don't understand is why Headmaster Dumbledore was in the stands, yet he did nothing to stop my broomstick from being cursed."

"Or perhaps we should put it another way: why did that person dare to curse my broomstick right in front of Headmaster Dumbledore?"

A sudden realization struck Ron, and he raised one finger.

"Hey? Could that person have been acting on Dumbledore's orders?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Hermione drove an elbow into him.

"Ronald! What are you thinking? Is Hogwarts a Death Eater den?" She was as furious as an enraged lioness.

Ron stuck out his tongue, scratched his head, and said, "Of course I know it isn't. I was just trying to lighten the mood."

But clearly, the atmosphere only grew colder.

"Of course I don't suspect Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry said firmly, unconsciously tapping the table with his fingers. "But I do question why he stood by and did nothing."