Mid-November arrived quickly.
The weather grew even colder.
This was the day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
I had originally wanted to stay curled up in bed.
But thinking about what would happen that day, I was still a little curious. What would Darren Potter do?
From the looks of it, he would probably help Harry Potter, right?
Or would he take this opportunity to capture Quirrell ahead of time? I wondered worriedly.
So, under Hannah's urging, I dawdled my way outside. We stood in the freezing stands and watched the match.
I secretly glanced at Darren Potter.
His eyes seemed to hold nothing but Harry Potter.
But I was sure he ought to be grateful.
After all, he was not the one playing Quidditch in this weather.
I was as afraid of the cold as he was. I knew what he meant.
There was no way I was wrong.
No matter how well he pretended, I knew what he was thinking right now!
I was freezing badly enough that I wished I had never come out, let alone gone out to compete.
The match reached the moment when Harry Potter's broom began to shake.
I saw Hermione run toward the teachers' seats. I knew she intended to set Snape's robes on fire.
I did not pay attention to her. Instead, I kept watching Darren Potter.
He still made no move. He did not even look at Hermione, simply letting her set Snape's robes ablaze.
He only pretended to be worried, staring at Harry Potter without turning his head.
I watched him for a long time.
Finally, I let out a heavy breath.
He really was not reckless. My life was safe!
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry Potter land on the ground,