Fly High!

Amid a chorus of gasps, Harry's broom twisted and jerked wildly, slowly climbing higher and higher.

"Look! Is Harry trying to show us some difficult maneuver? Or has he spotted the Golden Snitch?!" the announcer cried from the commentary box.

At those words, the Gryffindor students let out several excited cheers.

The Slytherin students also felt their hearts tighten. Frowning, they strained to see what Gryffindor's secret weapon was up to.

But only Glenn, who had cast Revelio, could see clearly: Harry had lost control.

Two Magic Ropes, one gray and one black, were tightly wrapped around the front of his broomstick's handle...

They pulled with such force that the broom began tumbling wildly. Harry could barely hang on, let alone keep himself from falling.

"Does Quidditch have a tug-of-war round? It's not in the rules!" Glenn mused, watching a Quidditch Match for the first time.

Well, probably not. Most likely, it was just a Hogwarts specialty.

Following the two Magic Ropes, he could see where the spells originated: one came from Professor Snape, the other from Professor Quirrell.

"Was the Quidditch Match so boring that they wanted to add some excitement?" Glenn murmured, rubbing his chin.

Of course, he was joking.

After all, falling from that height was no laughing matter.

It wasn't fun to put a helpless student in danger like that.

That raised another question: which of the two was using the jinx on Harry?

The reason he thought it was only one of them was that Harry was still barely managing to keep his balance.

If a Potions Class professor and a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor were teaming up against an eleven-year-old first-year, then Harry shouldn't be on the Quidditch pitch right now. He should be flying away from Hogwarts at astonishing speed.

"Oh, no! It looks like Harry's about to fall out of the sky!"

Another chorus of gasps rang out as Harry was thrown from his wildly bucking broom.

But he wasn't flung all the way off. Just before he fell, he grabbed the broom handle tightly with his left hand, dangling in midair.

Some people had already noticed that something was wrong.

But it had all happened so suddenly, and there had been so little time to react. The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, who had the authority to call a time-out, still clung to the hope that it was just a rookie mistake on Harry's part.

But Hermione and Ron knew him better. They realized what was happening almost at once, and immediately looked toward Professor Snape, whom they had always believed harbored the greatest ill will toward Harry.

They got to their feet and started toward him, clearly convinced that Professor Snape was sabotaging Harry to help Slytherin win.

Of course, it wasn't their fault for thinking that way.

After all, Professor Snape was Slytherin's Head of House, so the logic checked out.

Still, Glenn didn't think Professor Snape was the one who had cast the jinx.

As far as he was concerned, studying Dark Magic didn't make someone a dark wizard. If you wanted to learn certain academic subjects, it could be hard to avoid coming into contact with the dark arts.

Only wizards consumed by greed, indifferent to life, and reckless in their use of Dark Magic would be marked red by Revelio.

Professor Quirrell seemed harmless enough in everyday life, but the red glow at the back of his head had always made Glenn uneasy.

So, weighing the objective circumstances against his own judgment, Glenn made a decision.

He wouldn't bother figuring out who had cast the jinx. That was something the headmaster ought to worry about.

As for Glenn, he was going to give the two professors a little shock.

"Excuse me... coming through..."

In the Gryffindor stands, Hermione pushed her way through the crowd without stopping.

Ron followed behind her, but his eyes remained fixed on Harry, who was still struggling in midair.

The moment they realized something was wrong with Harry, they had looked through their Telescope at Snape.

Just as they had suspected, Snape was standing by the Slytherin stands, staring at Harry and silently mouthing words. It looked exactly as if he were casting a jinx.

When Harry jolted again high in the air, Ron's heart lurched.

"We have to hurry, Hermione. Harry's not going to hold on much longer."

"I know... Excuse me." Hermione struggled through the crowd.

Her plan was simple. If Snape was trying to make Harry fall by repeatedly muttering a spell, then all they had to do was make him stop.

And as it happened, just a few days ago in the library, she and Glenn had discussed a spell that could set someone's clothes on fire from a distance.

If she could get close enough, Hermione could quietly set Snape's clothes alight and interrupt his spellcasting.

It was a lovely plan, but reality had other ideas: far too many students had come to watch Quidditch!

"Is there any way we can contact Glenn? He's over by the Slytherin stands, closer to Snape. Maybe he'll notice what Snape's doing..." Ron said.

Hermione didn't answer. She kept pushing her way forward.

She had no doubt Glenn would help.

But with no way to contact him, it wouldn't be easy for him to realize Snape was harming Harry.

After all, Glenn was a Slytherin, and Snape treated his Slytherin students fairly well.

It wouldn't be easy for Glenn to suspect Professor Snape the moment Harry got into trouble, the way they had.

Rather than alert Glenn and make him go after his own Head of House, it was better for them to handle it themselves. That way, they'd feel less guilty.

With that in mind, she and Ron finally reached a less crowded area and hurried along the rows of seats.

Seeing Professor Quirrell sitting there, pale-faced and muttering to himself, Hermione didn't have time to explain anything. She decided to rush straight past him.

But Professor Quirrell seemed to be in even more of a hurry than they were.

In his seat, Professor Quirrell suddenly stood bolt upright. The next moment, he shot straight into the air!

"Oh, Merlin's pants..."

The sight stopped Hermione and Ron in their tracks.

They watched Professor Quirrell rise like a rocket, his face full of terror, then glanced at each other. Both saw the same shock in the other's eyes.

What was Professor Quirrell doing? Flying up to save Harry?

"...Er, Professor Quirrell must have his reasons. We should get going and stop Snape," Hermione urged, coming back to herself.

But Ron didn't move. He stood rooted to the spot.

Stop Snape?

Following Ron's gaze, Hermione was startled to discover that Snape was no longer standing in the stands.

"How are we supposed to stop him? Fly up there like he did?"

Harry, still struggling on his broom, suddenly felt it return to normal.

He could climb back onto the handle!

Just as he thought this with relief, there came a sudden whoosh.

Two professors appeared at his level: Snape, looking startled, and Quirrell, looking terrified.

For a moment, the three of them stared at one another. Harry thought it was bizarre.

At that moment, he thought he must be dreaming, and that his real self was still lying in bed.