Though the atmosphere on the pitch wasn’t nearly as intense as the last match against Slytherin, the visible excitement still set the Quidditch Pitch ablaze.
Dumbledore’s arrival was like throwing fuel on the fire—it instantly ignited the emotions of every witch and wizard present.
As for Pansy, who had dragged Draco here under the excuse of “enemy scouting,” she was much calmer this time. Draco still vividly remembered how wild she’d gotten back then—standing on the edge of the platform, wildly waving her flag and yelling like mad.
Completely unaware she had exposed another side of herself, Pansy now seemed focused on getting a professional opinion from Draco...
"Draco, who do you think will win this match?"
Pansy raised her small fist to Draco’s lips, her playful expression nearly making him lose control of his hand.
Even though it was phrased as a question, it was obvious she wanted Gryffindor to lose. If they did, Slytherin’s championship would be practically guaranteed.
Unfortunately for her, Draco didn’t give the answer she wanted.
"Gryffindor, probably. Now that Harry Potter has his Nimbus 2000 back, and considering their decent overall skill, they’ve got a pretty solid advantage."
Despite how last time's match with Gryffindor had been practically a rout, the team’s strength was nothing to scoff at. Ever since Harry Potter joined, they’d become true championship contenders.
Especially Harry himself—as a Seeker with raw talent, he had completely outclassed their own Seeker back then. If not for the unexpected incident during the match, the outcome might still have been the same, but at least it wouldn’t have been such a crushing loss. It was even possible Harry could have caught the Golden Snitch and still lost the game by points.
So when it came to this match, Draco was putting his money on Gryffindor.
Just as Pansy opened her mouth to ask another question, the match began to loud cheers from the crowd...
But unlike the others, Draco wasn’t watching the game.
"A whim? Or is there something more?"
That question surfaced in his mind as he stared curiously at the beaming greatest wizard, surrounded by other professors near him.
Then, as if something clicked, Draco’s eyes lit up. He glanced over at Snape, whose face looked grim, but whose shoulders had noticeably relaxed.
‘So someone really did try to kill the Chosen One—that's why the broomstick went out of control.’
‘Was it revenge? Or had someone’s secret been discovered?’
‘Like... the Philosopher’s Stone of Nicolas Flamel?’
The more Draco thought about it, the deeper his frown became.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but question himself—was he becoming too paranoid lately? Always thinking some conspiracy was unfolding around him?
‘Is it because of what Dobby said?’
He let out a deep sigh. Draco realized he’d been far too tense these days, and he didn’t want that affecting his judgment. That was partly why he’d let Pansy drag him here in the first place.
Still, he hadn’t expected to witness something this out of place...
...
Maybe it was because Dumbledore held a special place in Harry’s heart, or simply because he had shown up in person, but whatever the reason, Harry Potter was finally able to let go of his worries and focus entirely on the match.
Freed of his concerns, Harry seemed like a different person out on the pitch—like he’d taken some kind of tonic. He quickly became the standout player, and his series of graceful maneuvers drew cheers from the crowd of witches and wizards.
It was like he was releasing all the frustration from the last game in one go.
Honestly, if Draco weren’t around, Harry Potter would undoubtedly be considered the most gifted Quidditch player among the new students this year.
Still, while things looked great on the field, it seemed a small problem had cropped up on the sidelines—specifically, around Harry’s friend Ron Weasley.
To be exact, trouble had come looking for him...
“Draco, look over there.”
“What are they trying to pull this time? At this point, I almost admire their persistence.”
Pansy’s nudge made Draco notice that Goyle and Crabbe had somehow made their way over to Ron Weasley again. And judging by past experiences, that was never a good sign.
"Anyone who didn’t know better would think they were good friends..."
Draco had no idea why Goyle and Crabbe were always so eager to hassle Weasley. It was starting to baffle him. Was bothering Ron Weasley really that entertaining?
“Should we go pull them back?”
“Forget it. Nothing serious will happen. Besides, our dear headmaster is still here.”
Draco’s words made Pansy hesitate for a moment, then she gave a reluctant nod. To be honest, she wasn’t nearly as confident as Draco.
And at that moment, Draco had no idea that what was about to unfold would make him realize just how much he had underestimated Goyle and Crabbe’s capacity for causing trouble...
...
A streak of green dropped into a sea of red—impossible to miss. And with two towering figures like Goyle and Crabbe, their appearance drew immediate glares from the nearby Gryffindors.
It was clear that the two were anything but welcome.
Not that it was surprising. As Slytherins, they were already natural enemies of Gryffindor. Add to that the unmistakable provocation in their expressions, and it was obvious they hadn’t come in peace.
Still, to march straight into enemy territory under all those hostile glares took a kind of shamelessness that, as Pansy put it, only those two gorillas could manage.
They weren’t exactly stupid, though—at least they had the sense to wave in Snape’s direction as a reminder to the surrounding Gryffindors not to make any rash moves. After all, if they started something and gave Hufflepuff a chance at a penalty, it wouldn’t be on Goyle and Crabbe.
And just like that, with the “little lions” fuming but holding themselves back, Goyle and Crabbe swaggered right through the crowd and positioned themselves behind Ron Weasley.
From the way Ron was jumping and shouting encouragement for Harry, it was clear he hadn’t noticed the unwanted company at his back...