In the films, there seemed to be no attempt whatsoever to hide Harry's status as a Quidditch player. Professor McGonagall had even openly given him a Flying Broomstick, having it delivered straight to the Great Hall during a meal, in front of everyone.
Naturally, everyone knew about it.
Here, however, Harry's place on the Quidditch team had been kept strictly secret. People had only finally found out two days before the match.
The discovery had been quite accidental. A Ravenclaw girl had climbed the Astronomy Tower during the day for some unknown reason and happened to see Gryffindor training on the pitch. She noticed that one player's broom was noticeably faster than everyone else's.
In the wizarding world, liking Quidditch was the norm. People like Tris, who disliked it, were the odd ones out.
That Ravenclaw girl was a Quidditch fan and took an interest in Flying Broomsticks too. She immediately guessed that it must be the latest model, a Nimbus 2000.
No one had heard of any player on Hogwarts' four Quidditch teams owning a Nimbus 2000 yet. This was the first, and it naturally sparked some discussion.
Then, of course, its rider became a widespread topic of conversation as well.
What was the most important position on a team? Ask ten people that question, and nine would probably say the Seeker.
The reason was simple: the Seeker could end the match and score a whopping hundred and fifty points.
Even in professional matches, a hundred and fifty points were usually enough to decide the outcome-which was one of the reasons Tris disliked Quidditch.
Then a Hufflepuff girl who was on good terms with George went to ask him about it. George failed to hold his ground in front of her and let it slip, finally exposing Harry's identity as Hogwarts' newest Seeker.
"George and his big mouth!" Ron said in disgust. "We agreed not to tell anyone so we could give everyone a huge shock at the match, but that blabbermouth went and told someone anyway."
"Come on, Ron, you have to be understanding of our brother," Tris said earnestly. "With Fred and George being the sort who have a little too much of some things in their heads and a little too little of others, it's not easy for them to find a girl they get along with."
Ron blinked. It took him a moment to work out what Tris meant, and then he grabbed Harry and burst out laughing.
At dinner that day, a mortified George chased Tris all over Hogwarts Castle.
In the end, it proved that running every day really did help! Despite being two years younger than George, Tris managed to evade him through sheer fleet-footedness.
"Just you wait. I'll catch you eventually," George threatened, panting but still trying hard to look fierce.
"If you dare hit me, I'll tell Mum," Tris said with his hands on his hips, utterly confident in his position. "I'll have her cut off your pocket money."
"Er..." George immediately faltered.
That was a terrifying threat.
Tris deserved some of the credit for the improvement in their family's finances. If he wrote to Mum saying George was bullying him, George really might lose the pocket money that had only just been increased...
"Fine. You win," George said through gritted teeth.
The onlookers spread the story throughout the school, and George suffered another round of public humiliation.
The revelation that Harry was a Seeker also brought his new Nimbus 2000 to light.
"I feel a bit bad about it," Harry said, showing Tris the Nimbus 2000. "Sirius gave me this. I don't know how he heard I'd made the team, but he wrote saying he wanted to give me a broom.
"I told him he didn't have to, but he bought it anyway..."
"It's fine. He can easily afford it," Tris said dismissively. He had little interest in Flying Broomsticks, and even this rather handsome Nimbus 2000 did nothing to change his mind.
"The Black family has a lot of holdings. Even if some were squandered away back then, the assets your godfather controls now are still far beyond anything you could imagine."
Tris remembered an article he had read in a tabloid a while ago. Since coming to Hogwarts, he no longer had time to read newspapers in bulk and could only glance through them when he had a spare moment.
It had been a short piece about Sirius.
The headline alone said it all: "Once the Family's Wayward Rebel, Now the Biggest Winner in the Inheritance Stakes."
In the films, Sirius had seemed rather down on his luck. It wasn't that he had no money. Although he couldn't inherit the Black family's vast fortune, another older relative who had left the family had bequeathed him some assets.
The fact that he could buy Harry a Firebolt made that clear.
He had mainly seemed so miserable because he couldn't show himself in public. Even with money, he couldn't spend it freely.
The Sirius of the present was entirely different. His name had been cleared, and he could appear openly in public.
As the Black family's only remaining male member, he had naturally inherited its vast assets both at home and abroad.
The Black family had once been far wealthier than the Malfoy family. Lucius had to support his family, maintain his position as a leader of the pure-blood clans, and bribe the Ministry of Magic on the side, yet he still lived in luxury. That went doubly for Sirius, a thoroughly unattached bachelor.
Buying a Nimbus 2000 was barely a drop in the bucket.
Tris reckoned Sirius simply didn't yet know how talented Harry was at Quidditch. Otherwise, if the mood struck him, buying new brooms for the entire Gryffindor team would be no trouble at all.
What a spendthrift!
As Tris thought that, he felt deeply envious.
On the first weekend of November, the school year's first Quidditch match was about to begin. As usual, it was Gryffindor against Slytherin.
Tris had reason to suspect that the poor relationship between Gryffindor and Slytherin had a great deal to do with their teams facing off in the first Quidditch match of each school year.
All the fighting spirit accumulated over a holiday and more than two months of school erupted at once. Whatever happened, the later matches would be somewhat less heated.
Slytherin took this match very seriously. The clearest sign was that, despite the weather already being quite cold, the Quidditch team had started coming out for morning exercise.
Previously, the only Quidditch player Tris had seen consistently training in the mornings was Hufflepuff's Cedric. He only occasionally saw the others.
But ever since November began, the entire Slytherin team had been turning up.
According to their captain, Marcus Flint, they needed to get used to the cold in advance. After all, the chill of flying through the air at high speed was nothing like what they felt on the ground.
Tris nodded approvingly at that, then found himself liking Quidditch even less...
On Saturday morning, Tris led half the first-years and a handful of other younger students through their usual morning exercise, then returned to his dormitory to shower.
When he came back out, he found all the Quidditch players gathered in the common room.
Marcus was going over tactics. Tris listened for a moment and promptly lost interest.
They were far too crude.
Put those tactics into football or basketball in the ordinary world, and even a dog would shake its head at them.
Although he really had very little interest in Quidditch, Tris still went to the pitch early that morning and found himself a good seat.
The match itself held little appeal for him. It would just be Harry shining in the spotlight. What he was truly interested in was Snape taking the blame for Quirrell, then having his robes set on fire by Hermione.
His Head of House really did bring trouble on himself. Given the way he behaved every day, it was hardly surprising that even Hermione, who trusted the professors so much, suspected him.
Come to think of it, his leg had only just recovered from the three-headed dog's bite a couple of days ago. Hopefully, it wouldn't get burned this time.
Well, even if it did, it would be fine. He was a Potions Master, after all. He should recover with a dab of something or other, and Hermione didn't know any advanced fire magic anyway.
While Tris was silently mocking his Head of House, he noticed a shadow fall beside him. Turning his head, he saw that Daphne had already sat down next to him.
Blaise and Theodore, who had originally been sitting beside him, had moved to the row behind at some point. When they saw him looking, both gave him knowing looks.
Knowing looks, my arse.
Tris very much wanted to roll his eyes at the pair, but ultimately restrained himself.
"Aren't you uninterested in Quidditch?" Daphne asked, glancing at the still-empty pitch. "Why did you come so early?"
Practically everyone knew that Tris disliked Quidditch, and nearly all the young witches and wizards from wizarding families found that utterly incomprehensible.
Several older students had even approached Tris and tried to persuade him to love Quidditch. Tris had no time for that sort of thing and ignored them all.
Daphne's question was a reasonable one, though.
"Trying to fit in a little, I suppose? Besides, two of my brothers are playing today," Tris said with a shrug.
"Oh, I nearly forgot." Daphne nodded, then gave him a slightly mischievous smile. "Which team are you supporting today, then?"
That was a tricky question.
As a Slytherin student, Tris should naturally support his own house team. But his brothers were playing for the other side.
It seemed like a question that would leave him in an awkward position no matter how he answered.
Tris, however, had never been one to bow to pressure. Leaning back in his seat, he said indifferently, "Neither. It's a game where people fly around on sticks. I don't see what's so interesting about it."
It wasn't the first time Tris had said that, but hearing it again still made Daphne frown.
Yet there seemed to be nothing actually wrong with what he had said, and for a moment she couldn't think of a rebuttal.
Tris didn't pay much attention to Daphne's feelings.
It wasn't because he was hopelessly oblivious. Daphne might be a budding beauty, but she was simply too young. Besides, Tris had something more important on his mind right now.
As he looked around, his eyes lit up. He picked up the Telescope he had prepared and aimed it at a stand across the pitch.
Dressed in black robes, Snape was making his way into the stands and sat down. Behind him sat Quirrell, wearing his enormous turban.
Ever since Voldemort had invaded his mind and been thoroughly tripped up by the Thought Maze, Tris had worried that Quirrell would find an opportunity to make trouble for him.
But a month had passed without a damn thing happening.
Tris reckoned that, although the self-detonation Voldemort had used to escape hadn't destroyed him completely, it must have inflicted severe damage. He probably no longer had the strength to act.
So, would he still cause trouble today?