On the Quidditch Field

The Gryffindor Quidditch team walked together across the grounds, following their captain, Wood, toward the pitch. The excitement in the air was electric, and as they stopped by the locker room, the faint roar of the crowd could already be heard.

Wood looked over at Oliver and Harry, noticing the nervous looks on their faces. "Feeling nervous, are we?" he asked with a smirk.

The boys nodded, and Harry admitted, "A little."

Wood chuckled, clapping them on the shoulder. "That's all right. I felt the same way before my first game."

Oliver looked curious. "What happened?"

Wood shrugged, a bit sheepishly. "Well... took a Bludger to the head two minutes in. Woke up in the hospital wing a week later."

The team laughed, easing some of the tension, just as the doors opened, and the roar of the crowd flooded in. They mounted their brooms, and one by one, followed Wood as he flew out onto the field.

Lee Jordan's voice boomed over the cheers. "Welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch match of the season! Gryffindor versus Slytherin!"

Oliver grinned as the wind whipped past, and he took his position alongside the others. Lee continued, "Players, take your positions... and here comes Madam Hooch!"

Madam Hooch strode onto the field, eyeing each player. "I want a nice, clean game... from all of you!" she said, emphasizing her words as she glanced at the Slytherin players. With a swift kick, she released the balls from the box, and they shot up into the sky.

"The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden Snitch," Lee narrated. "Remember, the Snitch is worth 150 points! The Seeker who catches it ends the game!"

Madam Hooch tossed the Quaffle into the air, and Lee's voice shouted, "The Quaffle is released—and the game begins!"

Gryffindor was quick to take control as Angelina Johnson streaked down the field and scored. "Ten points for Gryffindor!" Lee called, as the Gryffindor crowd erupted in cheers.

Just as quickly, Slytherin seized the Quaffle, with Marcus Flint leading the charge. Flint ruthlessly shoved a Gryffindor Chaser aside before hurling the Quaffle toward the goal, but Wood blocked it with ease.

"Yes!" Harry and Oliver shouted together, their fists raised.

The match was intense. Oliver smacked a Bludger toward a Slytherin player, nearly knocking them off their broom. Then, just as Gryffindor pulled ahead, a Bludger hit Wood, and he went spiraling downwards. Slytherin quickly scored while the hoops were unguarded, and Oliver's jaw tightened. Determined to even the score, he swung his bat, knocking another Bludger at Flint, who barely managed to dodge.

Meanwhile, Harry suddenly spotted the Golden Snitch and dove after it, only for his broom to jerk violently, as if it had a mind of its own. "Whoa—whoa!" he shouted, clinging desperately to the handle.

Oliver saw Harry struggling and sped over. "Harry! Switch with me!" he yelled. In one quick motion, they swapped brooms mid-air.

Oliver held onto Harry's rogue broom, wrestling to control it while Harry zoomed off after the Snitch on Oliver's broom. After a few tense seconds, the broom suddenly stopped fighting back, and Oliver steadied himself, sighing with relief.

The chase for the Snitch continued. Harry and the Slytherin Seeker collided, each trying to gain an advantage. Oliver watched, heart pounding, as Harry tilted into a steep dive, looking as if he might crash. But Harry leveled out just in time and, with a final, daring move, reached out... and caught the Snitch in his mouth!

The stadium fell silent for a moment, then erupted in cheers as Harry spit out the Snitch, his face a mix of triumph and mild disgust.

"He's got the Snitch!" Lee announced. "Harry Potter receives 150 points for Gryffindor, and that means—Gryffindor wins!"

The crowd went wild as Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Oliver landed beside Harry, laughing as he pulled him into a hug. "You did it, Cuz!" he said, grinning.

The rest of the team swooped down, congratulating Harry, applauding and patting him on the back.

"Harry, I'm so proud of you," Oliver said, beaming.

Harry smiled back, a bit embarrassed. "Thanks, Ollie. And, uh... you can have your broom back now."

Oliver chuckled. "And you can have yours too, Harry."

Together, they left the pitch, victorious, to the sound of the crowd's cheers echoing through the grounds.

Later

Outside

The group was walking with Hagrid, trailing behind him as he led them back to his hut. Along the way, they filled him in on their suspicions about Snape.

"Nonsense!" Hagrid scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Why would Professor Snape put a curse on Harry's broom?"

"Who knows?" Harry replied. "But why was he trying to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween?"

Hagrid stopped in his tracks, eyeing them warily. "Who told you about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" Ron repeated, wide-eyed.

Hermione looked equally astonished. "That thing has a name?"

"'Course he has a name," Hagrid replied, sounding a bit defensive. "He's mine. Bought him off an Irish fella. Lent him to Dumbledore to guard—"

"Guard what?" Oliver prompted, leaning forward eagerly.

Hagrid froze, realizing he'd said too much. "Shouldn't have said that. No more questions, all right? That's top secret, that is."

"But whatever Fluffy's guarding," Harry pressed, "Snape's trying to steal it."

Hagrid stopped again, turning to face them with a stern expression. "Codswallop! Professor Snape's a Hogwarts teacher!"

"Hogwarts teacher or not," Hermione interjected, "I know a spell when I see one. You have to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking."

"Exactly," Harry added, nodding.

Hagrid shook his head, sighing heavily. "Now, listen here—all four of you! You're meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. It's dangerous, you hear me? What that dog is guardin' is strictly between Professor Dumbledore... and Nicholas Flamel."

"Nicholas Flamel?" Oliver echoed, his curiosity piqued.

Hagrid went pale. "I shouldn't have said that," he muttered, looking as if he'd just swallowed a lemon. "I should not have said that. I shouldn't have...." He trailed off, hurrying away from them and muttering to himself.

As they watched him retreat, Harry turned to the others. "Nicholas Flamel... Who's Nicholas Flamel?"

Hermione shook her head, brow furrowed. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm going to find out."

To be continued...