Quidditch Match

"Merlin, where did you get so many snacks?!" Ron was practically drooling with envy. He had seen that some of them were really expensive!

"By selling a cat's charms~" Aya answered indistinctly, tugging at a gummy candy. She had stretched it to the length of her arm without breaking it.

Xiaohua shrank, making room on the seat. Hermione directed several boys as they unfurled a banner, and Aya turned to look. "Potter for the win" was written across it in colorful paint, with a Gryffindor lion drawn beside it.

Perhaps it had been enchanted, because the paint on the banner flashed in different colors, making it very eye-catching.

Aya stingily gathered all the snacks she had just received into her arms. She begrudgingly gave Hermione one piece of chocolate and refused to give any to the other boys, even chasing Ron away when he came over.

"Cheapskate!" Ron muttered behind her.

At eleven o'clock sharp, the two teams entered the field. Harry stood in the front row—he was the shortest of the lot, which Aya noticed at a glance—and the Harry cheering squad behind her immediately waved their flags and cheered loudly.

Madam Hooch was the referee. She quickly finished her instructions, and when she saw that both teams had assumed their takeoff positions, she blew hard on her silver whistle.

Fifteen flying broomsticks shot off the ground and rapidly ascended, and the match began. The commentator was Gryffindor's Lee Jordan. Aya remembered him: a dark-skinned boy who hung around with the Weasley brothers. He had later paid Xiaohua's appearance fee, a doughnut big enough to fit over his head, so Aya had a fairly good impression of him.

Aya was only mildly interested in Quidditch, and spent the match watching the balls flying around the field. Partway through, Hermione nudged her, and she finally noticed that the enormous Hagrid had arrived.

He was really big-Aya wondered whether the top of her head would reach his waist while she was sitting down.

"I was watching from my hut just now," Hagrid said, bringing out an equally large pair of binoculars. "But watching a match in a crowd is very different. The Golden Snitch hasn't appeared yet, has it?"

"We haven't seen it," Ron said. "Harry's still looking all over the field."

"As long as nothing unexpected happens, we'll count ourselves lucky this match." Hagrid raised his binoculars and began watching the game intently.

Aya was still wrestling with her gummy candy. Watching the Bludgers fly wildly around the field, she felt herself growing even more energetic.

Then, while Aya was watching the Bludgers, Harry, who was chasing the Golden Snitch, was deliberately rammed by Slytherin's Flint, costing him his chance to catch it.

"Foul!" the Gryffindors shouted.

"Send him off, ref! Red card!" Dean roared from behind them.

Several boys began muttering behind her again. Aya finally pulled her gummy candy apart, and when she looked up, she found Harry hovering in midair, holding on to his broom with one hand.

"Did Flint damage his broom when he rammed him just now?" Seamus whispered.

"Impossible," Hagrid said, his voice trembling slightly. "That's the latest Nimbus 2000. There's no way a little collision could make it malfunction."

"Maybe he's showing off?" Aya eagerly joined the discussion.

"...Are you serious?" No matter how many times he heard her, Dean could never get used to Aya's way of speaking.

"Oh no, it's Snape!" Hermione whispered, staring toward the professors' stands. Ron followed her gaze with his binoculars.

"He's jinxing the broomstick!" Hermione said breathlessly and with certainty.

"How can you be sure it's a jinx?" Aya asked curiously.

"He's the only one casting a spell. If it isn't him, who else could-oh! Quirrell too-" Hermione cried. She hadn't seen Quirrell at first, but Aya's question had prompted her to scan the professors' stands, and she easily spotted him standing not far from Snape. He, too, was staring intently at Harry's broom and muttering.

"What should we do?" Ron was somewhat at a loss.

"Leave it to me!" Without waiting for either of them to answer, Hermione hurried off. Ron quickly turned his attention back to Harry, whose broom was shaking even more violently.

"If you ask me, Professor Snape might be cheering Harry on," Aya said, opening a packet of dried meat and taking a bite. Its aroma wafted through the air.

"That guess is even less likely to come true than Snape becoming headmaster tomorrow!" Ron replied impatiently.

Aya ignored him and watched Hermione knock Quirrell over, then run to Snape's side. Aya didn't know what she did, but Snape stopped casting his spell.

Very good. Harry stopped showing off and climbed back onto his broom, settling himself properly.

Only then did Neville, who had been so frightened that he had buried himself in Hagrid's jacket and cried, dare to watch the match again.

Harry had clearly spotted the Golden Snitch some time ago. After getting back on his broom, he dived swiftly toward the ground.

"He's trying to fall to his death," Aya said, frightening Neville back into hiding.

Fortunately, though, Harry caught the Golden Snitch. When he fell to the ground on his back, arms and legs in the air, he spat a Golden Snitch out of his mouth.

"I've caught the Golden Snitch!" Harry's voice rang out over the screaming crowd and reached everyone's ears. The match ended in chaos because Slytherin's Flint refused to accept that the Golden Snitch had been caught in a mouth; he thought it should be ruled a foul.

"Come over to my hut. We can celebrate together!" Hagrid said with a smile, his bearded face still flushed with excitement.

"I'm going," Aya said, raising her hand. She figured that someone as big as Hagrid must know a thing or two about food.

"Good, good, you can all come!" Hagrid liked young witches and wizards-Slytherins excepted—so he readily agreed to let Aya come.

Thanks to Harry, Aya managed to get into Hagrid's Hut. The room was rather messy, and the furniture was all oversized. Quite a few pieces of cured meat hung from the ceiling, and a huge stone fire pit stood in the middle of the room, accompanied by an equally huge copper stove.

"We think it was Snape or Quirrell," Ron said, holding the strong tea Hagrid had brewed for them. "We saw both of them staring at your broomstick and casting spells, muttering all the while."

"Nonsense," Hagrid said, coming over and sitting down. "Why would they do that?"

"Because they were jealous that Harry was the youngest Seeker?" Aya's face scrunched up at the bitterness of the strong tea.

"Don't listen to her nonsense!" Harry quickly cut in, because Hagrid had already begun to think about it. "I still think Snape is more likely. Quirrell is the Dark Magic Defence Class professor. He might have been trying to save me."

"Agreed," Ron chimed in. "Professor Quirrell is a really kind person. He just stutters a little and smells a bit bad."

"No, Snape wouldn't do that either!" Hagrid said firmly.

"We found something out." Harry exchanged glances with Hermione and Ron. "Before Halloween, Snape was already trying to get past that three-headed dog, and it bit him. We think he might be trying to steal something from that forbidden area."

"How do you know about Fluffy, the three-headed dog?" Hagrid asked.

"Aha, so it's your dog!" Before anyone else could answer, Aya spoke up. "It's no good at its job. Anyone can make it submit with just a little beating!"

"...When did you go and beat it?" Hermione looked at Aya suspiciously.

"Come on, that's not the point!" Harry drew Hermione's attention back and continued speaking to Hagrid. "That's enough to prove there's something wrong with Snape!"

"That's impossible! I bought that three-headed dog from a Greek man I met at a hotel last year. Dumbledore borrowed it to guard something, and Snape knows about it!" Hagrid interrupted rather roughly, but Aya felt as though she now knew everything.

"Guard what?" Harry pressed eagerly.

"Enough, stop asking. I'm not going to tell you!" Hagrid refused.

"But Snape wants to steal it!"

"Nonsense. Snape is a Hogwarts professor. He wouldn't do anything like that!"

"Then why did he try to kill Harry?" Hermione demanded loudly. For the first time, Aya felt unable to follow their thinking. How had they decided it was Snape?

"Impossible!" Hagrid was growing agitated. "I don't know why Harry's broomstick went wrong, but a professor at the school couldn't possibly harm a student! You mustn't interfere in this anymore. It's none of your business! Forget that three-headed dog! Forget what it's guarding! This is between Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel-"

"Ha!" Harry seemed to have found a clue. "There's someone named Nicolas Flamel involved too, is that right?"

Hagrid was furious. He was angry with himself.

"You really are like those detectives who trick honest people," Aya remarked, taking another sip of strong tea and scrunching up her face again.

"..." Harry and the other two were speechless. Then Hagrid chased all four of them out of the hut. Aya hadn't even had time to ask Hagrid what he usually ate.

"This is all your fault. I thought I could at least have lunch at Hagrid's!" Aya complained.

"I'd advise you not to," Harry replied, though he was still thinking about Nicolas Flamel.

"Not everyone can eat Hagrid's food," Ron added. "So who exactly is Nicolas Flamel?"

"I feel like that name looks familiar..." Hermione frowned and rubbed her chin as she tried to remember. "I think I've seen it before, but I can't remember which book it was in."

"Really? Can you find it?" Harry asked, delighted.

"I'm not sure. I only remember that it was in a book I borrowed from the library after coming to school, but it's been over two months, and I've borrowed too many books." Hermione racked her brains, but still had no idea.

"I'm hungry," Aya said suddenly. "I have to go back and eat." It had already been eleven when the Quidditch match began. She didn't know whether they had deliberately chosen a time when breakfast had mostly been digested to stop the players from throwing up in midair, but now that Aya had finished watching the match, she felt hungry even though she had filled her stomach with snacks.

Before Harry and the others could react, Aya dashed off toward the castle.

"...What a strange person," Ron said, wrinkling his nose.

After the Quidditch match, Gryffindor had a long stretch without a game. In the meantime, there were two matches involving the other three houses. Harry and Ron went to watch, Aya didn't want to be out in the cold wind, and Hermione was still looking for information on Nicolas Flamel.

It wasn't until mid-December that Aya realized Christmas was nearly here.

Hogwarts had a Christmas holiday of about three weeks, and many students chose to go home. There was no one at Aya's home, so she naturally signed her name on the list of those staying at school for the holiday. She saw that, besides her, Harry and several members of the Weasley family had signed up.

Because of this, Draco came to mock Harry again, attacking him for not having a complete family.

Of course, Aya comforted him on the spot: "It's all right. I don't either."

Harry immediately forgave Aya for the pain of leaving him speechless for an entire term.

With the holidays approaching, Harry dragged a bored Aya along to see Hagrid. They had heard that Hagrid was preparing Christmas trees for the school, using firs from the Forbidden Forest. Harry's reason for bringing Aya was simple: she and her cat were both as strong as oxen.

"Of course, if he feeds me," Aya replied when Harry asked whether she was willing to help.

"If I get the chance, I really want to choke you to death with Rock Cakes," Ron said viciously. He trudged unevenly through the snow, pulling his scarf close, but he couldn't stop his nose from running.

"Sorry, I don't want a Troll feeding me." Aya moved two steps farther away in disgust, successfully infuriating Ron.

Harry struggled to hold his furious friend back, while Aya, oblivious as ever, continued hopping along ahead of them.

He was so tired.

"Fred and George got detention again, or we could have asked them to come. They'd definitely be happy to go to the Forbidden Forest..." Ron stamped heavily behind them, as though venting his anger. "They've got so much energy, they ought to be worked to the bone! That would stop them from coming to our dormitory first thing in the morning and planting Dungbombs!"

"What did they get detention for?" Harry asked casually. He just wanted to divert Ron's attention from Aya.

"They enchanted a few snowballs to chase Quirrell all over the place, and they ended up hitting his turban," Ron said. "Quirrell was so angry he nearly managed to speak fluently."

"Maybe your brothers wanted to wash Quirrell's face-" Aya looked back as she spoke from up ahead. "I always feel like his face is shaped like garlic. If he took off his turban, I definitely wouldn't recognize him. I support Fred and George. They're helpful! Just like me."

"...So," Harry said, turning his head stiffly and continuing to question Ron, "did Quirrell actually speak fluently?"

"From what I heard, almost," Ron replied. "He spoke much faster, but he still stuttered at the same points where he normally stutters."

"Before class in the future, we could go wash Quirrell's face first," Aya suggested, completely ignoring the fact that the two were ignoring her. "That would get rid of the garlic smell and help Quirrell read from the textbook more smoothly."

Harry really didn't want to admit that he thought it was a good idea.

When the three reached the grounds a short distance outside the castle, they saw a huge fir tree moving slowly forward. Its dark green branches dragged a long trail through the smooth, white snow. They could just make out Hagrid hidden behind the thick branches, bundled up tightly, with bits of debris all over his beard.

"I'm here to help!" Aya called out loudly. Harry was just thinking he had done a good deed when he saw Aya jump onto the fir trunk and ride astride it.

"Giddyap!"