What Does Snape Know About Quidditch?

Silvan had no idea that, not long after he left, someone came down the other side of the corridor.

Snape stopped in front of the Gargoyle. After giving the password, he climbed the spiral staircase behind it and entered the Headmaster's Office.

Dumbledore was searching for something on the bookshelf. Hearing the commotion, he turned around.

"Severus, what a rare visit. What can I do for you?"

"I saw Ollivander just now," Snape said. "So you've finally decided to expel him, have you?"

"I don't understand what you mean." Dumbledore turned around. "As I see it, it was just a minor accident. He broke the school rules, but that hardly warrants expulsion. Besides, Minerva has already punished him. She's the head of Gryffindor."

"And what about the Troll's spine?" Snape said unhurriedly. "Besides, I remember telling you that Ollivander once bought a Red Cap's heart in Knockturn Alley."

"You've bought things there too," Dumbledore said. "Yet you're still the head of Slytherin, Severus."

"We're not the same!"

"I think we are," Dumbledore said. He considered this, then added, "Still, a student going to Knockturn Alley to buy things is certainly unacceptable. Gryffindor will lose five points. I hope the punishment teaches him not to go near such dangerous places again."

Snape's face grew as cold as frost.

Five points from Gryffindor? What kind of punishment was that? He took more than five points from Harry in a single class.

He even suspected the Gryffindors wouldn't notice they'd lost five points.

"Do as you please." Snape couldn't be bothered to continue arguing. "Now, what have you decided about what I asked you last time?"

"You want to referee the next Quidditch Match because of Harry?"

"That imbecile Potter will probably never realize Quirrell is the one trying to kill him." Snape sneered as if he were talking about a brainless Troll.

"The General Counter-Spell isn't very effective. I need to be close enough to Potter to make sure his broom doesn't go out of control again."

"You don't need to do that." Dumbledore opened the window and glanced at the Quidditch Pitch outside. "I'll attend the next match. Quirrell won't dare try anything."

Snape said nothing. He simply stood there, staring at Dumbledore...

"All right, if you insist." Dumbledore gave in with a soft sigh.

"I'll tell Madam Hooch. She'll finally be able to sit in the stands and watch the whole match in peace."

"A wise decision," Snape said. Then he spun around, his black cloak billowing behind him like a giant bat as he swept out of the Headmaster's Office.

He even pretended not to hear Dumbledore call after him, "I hope you'll be fair and impartial," and slammed the door shut.

"What? Snape's going to referee?" The moment Oliver Wood shared the news, the Gryffindor Common Room erupted.

Everyone stopped paying attention to Silvan and swarmed over to them.

After smashing up a dormitory the previous night and skipping McGonagall's Transfiguration class that morning, Silvan had become the talk of Gryffindor.

It was no use explaining over and over that he hadn't skipped class.

Luckily, the team members returned just then. In the face of Quidditch, smashing up a dormitory and skipping class became utterly insignificant.

"You're joking. When has he ever refereed a Quidditch Match?"

"This is a conspiracy. He'll never make fair calls."

"Let's go protest to McGonagall."

"That won't work. The Headmaster made the decision!"

"Then what do we do? Just lose the match?"

"There must be another way. At least if we follow the rules, he won't have an excuse to pick on us."

Everyone talked over one another, trying to figure out what to do. Silvan didn't join in. Instead, he took the opportunity to sneak back to the dormitory alone.

He didn't want them coming to their senses and suggesting something alarming, like making him lead a rebellion against Minerva McGonagall.

He wanted to learn the Animagus Transformation, but not to turn into some kind of animal by another means.

The discussion in the Gryffindor Common Room continued until midnight, but by Saturday afternoon, two days later, the match went ahead as scheduled.

Silvan had nothing else to do that day, so he decided to watch the match with everyone else.

As he took his seat in the stands, he suddenly heard Hermione's voice from his right.

"Remember, it's Locomotor Wibbly. Don't forget."

"I know," Ron said impatiently. "Stop nagging."

"Hmm?" Silvan turned to look.

"For the sake of fair play." Noticing his puzzled expression, Hermione explained in a low voice, "We discussed it last night. If Snape looks like he's about to hurt Harry, we'll use the Leg-Locker Curse on him."

"Attacking a professor? Are you trying to get Hogwarts to expel you?" Silvan shook his head. "I understand why you're worried, but there's no need. Look over there."

He pointed to the teachers' stand.

"Dumbledore!" Ron almost shouted. "Dumbledore came to watch the match! Brilliant! With him here, nobody can hurt Harry!"

The two of them immediately relaxed and pulled the wands they'd hidden in their sleeves back out.

And just as Ron had expected, Harry's broom didn't have a single problem until the match ended.

Though perhaps there hadn't been time for any schemes. From start to finish, the match lasted less than five minutes. Silvan hadn't even finished his third roasted walnut.

After cheers rang out across the Quidditch Pitch, everyone began to leave.

As they walked between the castle and the Quidditch Pitch, Silvan kept his eyes fixed in one direction.

"What are you looking at?" Neville asked curiously.

"That!" Silvan pointed toward a huge willow near the greenhouses. It was far taller than an ordinary willow, its trunk gnarled and rough, full of strength.

The Whomping Willow, one of the Wizarding World's most precious magical plants.

He'd been too embarrassed to try anything before, but now, after half a school year, Silvan had finally started eyeing the old tree.

He couldn't help it. He was bored.

After making that two-foot wand, Silvan could never bring himself to make ordinary wands with much enthusiasm. It was as if he'd lost his former passion.

He'd had no classes yesterday afternoon, so he'd planned to use the Red Cap hearts he'd bought earlier. In the end, he only made two wands before his concentration began to slip and his failure rate kept climbing.

By the end, Silvan had even started thinking about whether he should do his homework... He'd thought about homework while making wands!

It was terrifying.

So, after feeding all the remaining materials to Tom, Silvan decided to find himself a new goal.