Early the next morning, Hermione gathered with Harry and the others in the Great Hall. The weather was lovely, and Wood was delighted, piling every player's plate with scrambled eggs.
"Good luck, Harry!" Hermione and Ginny cheered him on while glancing toward the Slytherin table, but they couldn't spot that conspicuous tuft of white hair. Harry was a little disappointed, too. He had developed an inexplicable fondness for "Riddle," perhaps because Riddle's experiences reminded him of his own.
Honestly, living with the Dursley family was worse than being in an orphanage!
"Isn't he coming to cheer me on? I thought we were friends."
"Maybe he overslept. Besides, with all these people watching, it'd be awkward for him to cheer for you, Harry," Ron said reassuringly.
It was quite a while before Cyrus finally walked in.
He had actually been up for some time, but he had paid an early visit to the Chamber of Secrets. At this point, he needed to use the Basilisk's voice to give Hermione a hint so that she would separate from the others.
After entering the hall, Cyrus lifted his chin at them with Malfoy's usual smug expression.
To anyone else, it might have looked like a provocation, but Harry knew that "Mr. Riddle" was actually greeting him.
"Malfoy's such a nuisance, isn't he? I don't know why he's stopped playing, but it's a good thing. Slytherin lost to Hufflepuff last time, so the championship is between us and Hufflepuff now." Wood frowned and patted Harry on the shoulder. "All right, Harry, hurry up and eat. I want to go over our tactics again before the match."
With that, Wood left the Great Hall ahead of them and headed for the Quidditch Pitch.
Harry thought he might be able to exchange a few words with