"Snape… he was definitely trying to kill you!"
Harry's first Quidditch match was long over, the echoes of victory cheers faded. But instead of celebrating with his teammates, he was huddled in a secluded corner of the castle with Ron and Hermione, dissecting the terrifying events of the game. The phantom sensation of slipping from his broom, dozens of meters in the air, still sent shivers down his spine, leaving him with no appetite for a victory feast
"But why would he?" Hermione countered, pacing in a tight circle, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Harry's just a student! Why would Snape take such a colossal risk, trying to kill him in front of the entire school?"
"Who knows! Maybe all that Dark Arts nonsense has finally driven him mad!" Ron shot back, his face flushed with indignation. He had watched, helpless, as Harry dangled from his broom by a single hand. "And you heard what I said before the match! I saw his leg—it was bitten up badly. Maybe he caught some kind of rabid curse!"
Listening to them argue, Harry lowered his head, a storm of thoughts churning behind his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he decided he had to tell them.
"Do you remember… the trapdoor? Underneath that three-headed dog?"
"Huh?" Ron's head snapped towards him. "Underneath that monster? I was a bit busy trying not to get my head bitten off, mate. I didn't notice any details."
"I saw it," Hermione interjected, her sharp mind immediately making the connection. "You're saying Snape was bitten by… that dog?"
"Think about it," Harry began, recounting the events from months ago. "When Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley, he withdrew that grubby little package from Gringotts. He said it was for Dumbledore, something secret. As soon as he had it, he rushed out and asked Professor Kahn to send me back."
"You think that package is what's hidden under the trapdoor?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
"Yes." Harry nodded grimly. "It has to be something incredibly important. And George and Fred told me the fourth-floor corridor was never off-limits before this year. That rule only started after the package arrived."
"So, Snape is trying to steal whatever Dumbledore's hiding?" Ron whispered, the pieces clicking into place.
"But what does that have to do with us?"
"Because Snape wants to silence Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, the final piece of her theory locking in. "He knows Harry saw his injury! And don't you remember, Ron? When we were looking for me during the troll attack, we saw Snape heading up the stairs towards the fourth floor!"
A heavy silence fell. The truth of it felt cold and sharp. The fact that his Potions Master—a professor at the school he had come to love—wanted him dead filled Harry with a profound sadness. He didn't like Snape, but he was starting to enjoy Potions.
"But how do we prove it?" Hermione asked, voicing the most critical question. "How do we convince anyone that Snape is trying to steal from Dumbledore? Professor Kahn is gone, and no one else will believe us."
The three of them fell into deep thought, the weight of their discovery pressing down on them.
After a long while, Harry spoke, his voice barely a whisper.
"Let's go see Hagrid."
…
"No, impossible! My dear children, Snape is a Hogwarts professor. He'd never do such a thing."
Inside the gamekeeper's hut, Hagrid shook his head so vigorously it looked like a rattle.
"But we both saw him!" Ron insisted, his face red with frustration. "He was in the stands, muttering a spell, jinxing Harry's broom!"
Hermione nodded in firm agreement beside him.
"You must be mistaken. Professor Snape wouldn't do that." Hagrid stubbornly refused to believe any of it. It wasn't until Ron mentioned their theory—that Snape was trying to steal what the three-headed dog was guarding—that Hagrid's demeanor finally shifted. A flicker of panic crossed his face, but not for the reason they expected.
"How d'you know about Fluffy?" he demanded, his voice a low rumble.
Sitting nearby, listening to the argument, Harry felt a knot of confusion tighten in his gut. Emotionally, he didn't want to believe a professor wanted him dead. He loved this school too much. But rationally, the evidence was piling up. Why was Hagrid defending Snape so fiercely when his own reasons were so flimsy?
Just as Ron and Hermione were about to press Hagrid further, a familiar voice drifted in from outside.
"Hagrid! I brought you a little gift! And you'll never guess what I found in the Forbidden Forest!"
The door to the hut swung open, and Evans stood there, a bag slung over his shoulder. He took in the tense scene—the three anxious students, Hagrid's panicked expression—and his own smile faltered.
"Are you… playing cards?" he asked, his eyes landing on the single plate of rock cakes on the table. The scene was a far cry from a victory celebration. He was quite certain no one would ever make Hagrid's rock cakes the main course of any banquet.
Why are they here instead of celebrating? Did they lose?
"Professor Kahn!" Hermione's eyes lit up, a wave of relief washing over her.
But before she could say another word, Hagrid shot to his feet. He lumbered past her, his gaze fixed on something behind Evans, his great, fan-like hands trembling with excitement.
"Is that… a Lethifold?"
Peeking out from behind Evans's leg was a small, pure black cloak, its hood raised curiously as it surveyed the room. Then, its gaze fell upon the giant. A man with a beard covering half his face, eyes wide with a ferocious smile, waving his enormous hands as he strode towards it.
The little cape flinched, shrinking back in terror.
After Evans's constant reassurances, it had mostly come to accept that this Evil Wizard probably wouldn't stew it into a soup.
But this giant… this giant looked like an expert at making soup.
Those massive hands would stir a cauldron with ease. Tearing a little cloak to pieces would be nothing for him. No! I don't want to become Lethifold fragments!
Thinking this, the little cape shot out of the doorway, floating away into the twilight. Hagrid, abandoning his guests completely, charged after it.
"Little fella, don't be scared! I'm not a bad person! Come on, let me have a look at yeh, let me give yeh a hug!"
Listening to Hagrid's ridiculous, cooing tone, Evans shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face. He wasn't worried. He had placed a tracking charm on the little thing. He was far more curious about what the trio was doing here.
As Hagrid's shouts faded into the distance, Hermione finally seized her chance. She rushed forward, her voice a desperate, urgent whisper.
"Professor Kahn! There's something wrong with Snape! During the match just now… he tried to kill Harry!"
(End of Chapter)
***
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