When the three of them reached the Quidditch pitch together, Harry had just caught the Golden Snitch. The stands erupted in an explosion of cheers. Orli craned her neck to see the score—Lee Jordan was flipping Gryffindor's numbers from eighty to two hundred and thirty, while Slytherin's score was frozen at twenty. Gryffindor had won!
Wood rushed over to Harry, burying his face in Harry's shoulder as he burst into tears. Fred and George joined the hug, followed closely by Angelina and the others. The Gryffindor team descended to the ground, hugging each other so tightly that their voices were hoarse from shouting. Waves of scarlet-clad fans surged over the barriers and onto the pitch, countless hands patting the players' backs like raindrops. Then, all the players were hoisted into the air. Hagrid waved a massive scarlet wreath, roaring with joy, while Professor McGonagall cried even harder than Wood, using a giant Gryffindor flag to wipe her tears.
Malfoy and Flint led the Slytherin team around the crowd to where Snape stood. Malfoy's usually sleek platinum-blond hair was disheveled with sweat, and his face was full of frustration and unwillingness.
# Malfoy: "We were so close! I was just a fingertip away from Potter! Where were you just now?"
Orli couldn't shake the feeling that he was blaming Snape for not being present.
# Wood: "Don't even bring it up! That was the dirtiest game I've ever seen!"
Wood marched the Gryffindor team up to the stands, Harry by his side.
# Wood: "Deliberate fouls, attacking players, even grabbing Harry's broomstick with their hands! Is that Slytherin's strategy, Malfoy?"
# Malfoy: "Gryffindor, the noble and upright Gryffindor!"
Malfoy suddenly turned to glare at Orli.
# Malfoy: "Distracting our Head of House with Waters—so that's Gryffindor's strategy?"
# Snape: "Malfoy!"
Snape spat out the name through gritted teeth, addressing Draco Malfoy by his surname.
Malfoy's face turned a cement-like shade of gray. He couldn't understand why his usually doting Head of House was suddenly so furious.
Admittedly, what he said wasn't entirely wrong. If you replaced Waters with any other Gryffindor—Neville or Ron, for instance—and imagined them blowing up Snape's potions cabinet during the match, it would have had the same effect, distracting him.
But what Malfoy said without malice struck a nerve in Snape. He had no idea of the inner turmoil his Head of House had just been through. His casual remark was like a wasp's sting to Snape's heart.
# Dumbledore: "Alright, alright, boys."
Dumbledore cleared his throat, stepping between the two teams.
# Dumbledore: "Have mercy on an old man; this trophy is far too heavy."
He handed the massive trophy to Wood, who, along with Harry and the Weasley twins, hoisted it high into the air. The deafening cheers nearly lifted the pitch off the ground. Taking advantage of the chaos, Orli slipped unnoticed into the Gryffindor crowd, blending in with Hermione and the others.
At the edge of the field, Dumbledore stood smiling at the jubilant students. Snape stood beside him, his eyes scanning the Gryffindors. Below the stands, a crowd was escorting the Gryffindor players back to the castle. Orli stayed with Ron and Hermione, listening as Ron loudly recounted every detail of the match to her.
# Snape: "Do you trust Waters?"
Snape asked the elderly man beside him.
# Snape: "Trelawney's prophecies have never been wrong. And Waters is always with Potter—if she really is the one to bury everyone, we should act before it's too late..."
# Dumbledore: "Are you going to kill her?"
Dumbledore's sharp gaze swept over Snape's face, and the Potions Master averted his eyes.
# Dumbledore: "It's all destiny. You can't do it. Just like I couldn't bring myself to act against Tom Riddle when he was still a student."
Dumbledore sighed deeply.
# Dumbledore: "If we kill her over a prophecy, how are we any different from Voldemort?"
# Snape: "But she's always with Potter."
Snape repeated mechanically.
# Dumbledore: "At least for now, she hasn't harmed anyone. On the contrary, she's helped Harry many times."
Dumbledore stroked his long beard thoughtfully.
# Dumbledore: "If you're worried, then all the more reason to keep an eye on her."
# Snape: "One Potter is already too much for me to handle. Don't forget, I also have to teach seven years' worth of mandatory classes, most of whom are less intelligent than flobberworms."
Snape had no interest in taking on this responsibility.
# Dumbledore: "I'll keep a closer watch on Harry."
Dumbledore paused, considering.
# Dumbledore: "But she clearly trusts you more than she trusts me."
Snape's fingers, which had been drumming on the railing, froze for a moment. Then, without another word, he turned and descended the stands.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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