Hermione Starts a Fire

Chapter 43: Hermione Sets a Fire

The Quaffle passed quickly between Johnson and Spinnet.

Flint seized the moment, intercepted it, and charged straight toward the goal.

He and Derrick Ampsay faced Wood at the hoops, forming a two-on-one.

He tried to pass the Quaffle to Ampsay.

But Wood, seasoned and sharp, blocked it precisely.

After grabbing the ball, he quickly passed it to Katie, who had fallen back.

Gryffindor's Chasers swiftly adjusted their formation into a Trident Formation and surged toward the Slytherin goal.

Bell, Spinnet, and Johnson worked in perfect sync, the Quaffle flying between them.

Ampsay flew in a beautiful arc and seized the Quaffle.

But he was hit by a Bludger from Fred—or maybe George—and lost the ball.

Johnson seized the chance and reclaimed the Quaffle.

She charged toward the Slytherin goal.

With a neat dodge, she evaded a Bludger attack and closed in on the hoops.

Johnson shot hard.

Slytherin's Keeper, Bletchley, dove swiftly to save.

Yet the ball slipped past his hand.

Goal!

Gryffindor scores!

The Gryffindor section of the stands erupted in thunderous cheers.

Hermione, flushed with excitement, hugged Brooke tightly.

"Brilliant, they scored!"

"Indeed, they're doing great," Brooke replied with a smile.

At that moment, Hermione's eyes were closer to Brooke's than ever before.

She suddenly noticed how nice Brooke's skin was.

Fine-textured, flawless.

She wanted to feel it.

At that thought, her cheeks flushed, and she quickly pulled her hands back.

She curled up like an ostrich.

"Coming through, make way."

Just then, Hagrid's large frame squeezed through the crowd with difficulty.

To make room for him, Hermione was almost pressed against Brooke.

Hermione: ⁄(⁄⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄⁄)⁄

"Hagrid, why are you so late?" Brooke asked.

"I was watching from my hut, but the atmosphere's better here, isn't it?"

"True, though some skewers would make it even better."

Hermione: ( ๑‾̀⚇‾́)σ» Poke, poke.

So springy!

"You never forget about food, do you?"

"Food is the people's heaven."

Brooke had no idea what Hermione was thinking, or he'd have poked her back.

"See the Snitch?" Hagrid raised his binoculars and searched the air with effort.

Brooke looked up too, scanning the sky twice.

Nothing.

His eyesight was already far better than an average person's.

If he couldn't find it, it was clear how hard the Snitch was to spot.

The match continued, with both sides trading attacks and defenses.

Gryffindor's style emphasized teamwork and skill.

Slytherin, while also skilled, leaned more toward physical confrontation.

"How can he do that?"

Hermione muttered in displeasure as she saw Flint nearly knock Harry off his broom.

"Madam Hooch should have called a foul."

Brook said this out loud, but he didn't really mean it.

In contact sports, physical collisions are unavoidable.

Just like football—if you can't take a hit, why play?

Still, he wasn't about to argue with Hermione over this.

When a girl's complaining, it's best to just go along with her.

Don't ask how he knew that.

His back hurt.

"What's wrong with Harry?"

Brook noticed Harry's Flying Broomstick was jerking wildly.

Hermione and the others looked over too.

Soon, more people caught on that something was off with Harry.

A wave of gasps rose from the stands.

"His broom's not out of control, is it?" A hint of panic crept onto Hermione's face.

"Maybe Flint's collision damaged the broom?" Ron guessed.

"Impossible," Hagrid denied.

"The Nimbus 2000 is top-of-the-line craftsmanship. A bump like that couldn't hurt it—unless it's some really powerful Dark Arts, but how could that be?"

Hearing this, Hermione snatched Hagrid's telescope and frantically scanned the crowd.

"Brook, it's Snape."

Brook didn't take the telescope; instead, he followed Hermione's pointing finger.

Snape's lips were moving slightly, as if he was muttering something nonstop.

"Brook, get ready to open a Space Gate."

With that, Hermione squeezed her way toward Snape.

Brook helplessly rubbed his forehead. "What's this little girl up to? Going head-to-head with Snape?"

His eyes stayed on Harry, ready to open a Space Gate the moment Harry lost his grip.

But his peripheral vision tracked Hermione.

She struggled through the packed crowd, bumping into Professor Quirrell along the way.

Then she crouched down sneakily beside Snape.

A flicker of blue flame caught the hem of Snape's robe.

"Damn. Setting a fire—only you would do that!" Brook couldn't help but marvel.

Luckily, everyone's attention was glued to Harry.

If she'd been caught, the points deduction alone would've made her cry.

With Hermione's little "stunt,"

Harry's Flying Broomstick miraculously returned to normal.

Harry climbed back onto the broom and dove sharply to the ground.

Just as everyone thought he'd ask for a replacement, he started retching.

Suddenly, a golden object shot out of his mouth and landed in his hand.

Harry raised his hand high. "I've got the Snitch!"

Brook was a bit stunned.

This...

When did Harry swallow it?

But the match ended just like that.

Final score: one hundred seventy to sixty.

Gryffindor wins.

After the match, the four of them went to Hagrid's Hut.

The once shabby little cabin had completely transformed.

A brand-new kitchen had been added outside, fully stocked with utensils.

Next to it, an unfinished bathroom was starting to take shape.

The interior style was a world apart from before.

The once dark, dingy walls had been fully repainted, now a bright white.

The fireplace had also been moved to the right and painted brown.

The clutter that once filled the room was now neatly arranged on a towering shelf that reached the ceiling.

The old, worn wooden table in the middle of the cottage had been replaced with a solid marble one, full of texture.

Paired with several solid wood chairs, it looked remarkably grand.

The bed had also been swapped out for a three-by-five-meter steel-framed king-size bed.

The bedding on it was custom-made, top-tier stuff.

Soft fabric, intricate patterns—every detail screamed quality.

In the corner of the room, a new solid wood wardrobe had been added.

What was once a cramped, tight space for the large-framed Hagrid.

After this round of adjustments and renovations, it now felt much more spacious.

Of course, all of this was arranged by Brook.

He handled the suggestions, Hagrid provided the materials, and An An took care of the construction.

It was only because Hagrid didn't want to cause too much trouble—otherwise, Brook's original idea was to just tear it down and rebuild from scratch.

Not only that, but the rare materials in Hagrid's cottage, especially that unicorn-hair woven rug.

Brook contacted Mr. Weasley through the twins and asked him to help sell these items.

The batch of goods Hagrid had on hand (excluding what was on the shelf) was estimated to be worth over a million Gold Galleons.

But considering the market impact of flooding it with such a large quantity, the final price might land around 700,000 Gold Galleons.

Of course, Brook wasn't going to let Mr. Weasley work for free.

He gave Mr. Weasley a three percent commission.

It might not seem like a high percentage, but considering the sheer scale of the transaction.

For the Weasley family, it was an absolute fortune.

Now, the twins directly acknowledge Brook as their boss.

Percy also got word from home and gave Brook all his class notes as a thank-you.

Only Ron was completely in the dark, still kept out of the loop.

He'll probably be totally lost when he goes home for the holidays this year.