Quidditch Match

As expected, the professors' thorough search of the castle turned up nothing.

The Basilisk's trail seemed to have melted into the stone itself, leaving no trace behind.

As the search gradually stalled, the students' panic faded after several days without any new incidents, and things slowly returned to normal.

The castle's attention was soon drawn to something else—the upcoming Quidditch match: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

An almost fanatical excitement filled the castle. In the corridors and the Great Hall, people discussed tactics, broom models, and their respective Houses' chances of winning.

Lin Du had little interest in it. He would rather spend his time in the depths of the library or in his small study, equipped with comprehensive protective magic, continuing his research into dangerous yet fascinating subjects.

"Hey," Chao Feng's teasing voice sounded in his mind. "It's Gryffindor's match. As a professor of your own House, aren't you going to show some support? You're wearing lion's skin, after all."

"I'm not interested in Quidditch." Lin Du did not even look up as he continued reading the dusty Ancient Runes Tome in his hands.

"Oh, please."

Chao Feng's voice was filled with undisguised mockery. "Stop making excuses. You just hate Quidditch because your posture on a broom looks as ridiculous as a goblin being strangled. Admit it—you're jealous of those young wizards who can fly freely through the sky."

"Shut up," Lin Du muttered, though the tips of his ears had gone a little hot.

Chao Feng had struck a sore spot—Lin Du truly had no talent for Flying Broomsticks, nor did he particularly like them.

Every time he mounted a broom, he felt like a clumsy penguin, nothing like those students soaring effortlessly through the air.

"Did I hit the mark? Then go see it for yourself. See whether it's really that boring," Chao Feng continued to stir things up.

In the end, perhaps to prove that he was not prejudiced, or perhaps simply to shut Chao Feng up, Lin Du appeared at the bustling Quidditch Pitch one Saturday afternoon.

He found a relatively quiet spot in the stands, trying to isolate himself from the feverish atmosphere around him.

To his surprise, he encountered someone equally out of place there—Severus Snape.

The Potions Professor stood alone at the edge of the stands like a black reef, watching the two teams warm up with an expressionless face.

"What a rare sight, Professor Lin Du," Snape said first, his voice as smooth and low as ever, impossible to read. "I assume you have not suddenly developed an interest in this... sport full of noise and reckless collisions?"

Lin Du shrugged and stopped beside him. "It's not bad to come out once in a while, change the mood, and experience... the vitality of youth."

Snape's face visibly darkened—

He was quite a bit older than Lin Du, and the remark had clearly struck a nerve.

He gave a nearly inaudible snort through his nose. "The vitality of youth? I would rather call it undisciplined restlessness."

Just then, the whistle signaling the start of the match sounded, and fourteen brooms shot into the lead-gray sky with their riders aboard.

Lee Jordan's excited voice boomed across the stadium through magical amplification.

"The match has begun! Gryffindor's Angelina Johnson immediately takes the Quaffle—she breaks through Slytherin's defense—oh! A Bludger! Slytherin's Beater, Bole, ruthlessly sends the Bludger at Gryffindor's Chasers! Things are incredibly chaotic!"

The two watched in silence for a while.

Just as Lin Du thought their conversation had ended, Snape suddenly spoke.

"How long do you intend to stay at Hogwarts this time?"

"I don't know—perhaps a year, perhaps several." Lin Du answered casually. "But that is not entirely up to me. When the year is over, I might already be lucky if I can pack up and leave safely."

"Isn't that just a legend?" Snape's voice carried obvious sarcasm. "Even you believe in that absurd curse?"

"A legend?" Lin Du chuckled. "More than thirty professors have rotated through this post before me. Do you expect me to dismiss all of that as coincidence?"

His eyes remained on the pitch. "As far as I know, most of those professors who left did not meet good ends. My guess is that it has something to do with the Death Eaters who are still active."

If you can't find the book by its title, try searching for the author. It may simply have been renamed!

Snape's expression stiffened noticeably for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line—

As someone who had once been among the Death Eaters, he knew better than anyone how those people operated.

Lin Du caught his reaction sharply, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

"But if I really leave after only one year, you should be the happiest, shouldn't you? After all, that would give you a chance to take over as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Snape's expression froze at once. "I have never thought that," he said stiffly.

Yet his eyes flickered involuntarily, clearly revealing that Lin Du had hit the mark.

"Slytherin scores! Oh... they really have gained some advantage from those particularly expensive brooms."

Lee Jordan's voice carried an obvious note of bitterness. "The score is currently thirty to zero! I have to say, money can indeed make up for certain deficiencies. I mean teamwork and genuine flying skill, of course."

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall's stern voice came through the magical amplifier. "Focus on commentating the match!"

"Er... yes, Professor. Slytherin... is temporarily in the lead."

Lee Jordan added reluctantly, reining himself in a little.

The corner of Snape's mouth curved upward almost imperceptibly.

The match remained deadlocked amid the torrential rain.

Relying on the superior performance of the Nimbus 2001, Slytherin steadily widened the score gap.

Snape's lips retained their faint curve throughout, clearly quite pleased with the current score.

However, just when everyone thought the outcome had been decided, the situation on the pitch suddenly reversed.

Harry abruptly dove without warning, charging straight at Draco Malfoy through the pouring rain.

The entire audience held its breath.

"Merlin's beard! What is Potter doing?" Lee Jordan cried.

Harry suddenly grabbed at Malfoy's ear, then crashed heavily into the muddy field along with his broom.

After a brief silence, Harry raised his hand from the mud—the Golden Snitch glittered between his fingers.

"The Golden Snitch! Potter caught the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor wins!" Lee Jordan's cheers nearly lifted the entire stadium's roof.

Deafening cheers erupted from the stands as Gryffindor students embraced one another wildly in celebration.

Professor McGonagall rose to her feet excitedly, a radiant smile appearing on her face for the rare occasion.

Snape's expression instantly darkened enough to drip water.

"It seems," Lin Du said lightly, "that courage can sometimes be more useful than money, isn't that right?"

Snape spun around sharply, his black robes billowing violently like an enraged bat. "Mind your own business, Lin Du."

He lowered his voice, every word seeming to be squeezed through clenched teeth. "This is my final warning. Do not play those little Dark Magic tricks in front of Dumbledore unless you want to spend next Christmas in Azkaban."

"Ah, about that." Lin Du raised his hands in surrender, though a sly gleam flashed in his eyes. "That is actually what I wanted to tell you."

"What is it?" Snape was clearly already impatient. "Has Dumbledore finally decided to throw you out of Hogwarts?"

"No, we reached an understanding."

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