[Note: Read up to Chapter - 133 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
.
.
.
.
"I'd always thought it was just a plot hole," Aris mused, "but this explains everything..."
The pieces finally clicked into place, and with that clarity came a quiet resolve:
Time to add a proper study of Dark magic to the to-do list.
Without it, he'd be helpless the next time something like this—or worse—cropped up.
All around him, panicked voices rose in waves:
"Potter's going to fall!"
"What's wrong with that broom?"
Terry and Anthony were craning their necks, faces pale as parchment. Above, Harry's broom bucked harder than ever—he was now dangling by his fingertips.
Then the Nimbus lurched into a steep dive—straight toward the Ravenclaw stand.
Terry shrieked, "Look out—he's coming right for us!"
Aris glanced up, calmly noting the broom's trajectory… and couldn't resist a quick look toward Quirrell in the staff stand.
Hermione and Ron, two sections over, were shouting themselves hoarse, frantic.
Beside him, Cho grabbed his sleeve. "Aris, move!" she cried, tugging him toward the exit.
But Aris held his ground. He gave Cho a steady, reassuring nod—then flicked his wand, drawing a lazy sigil in mid-air.
"Ventus Obex!"
A sudden column of air spiralled upward, solid as any shield. The diving broom struck the invisible wall with a whump, cushioning the impact and slowing Harry just enough for him to scramble back astride the handle.
Gasps rippled through the stadium; the Ravenclaws around Aris stared in stunned silence.
High above, Harry steadied the Nimbus and shot Aris a grateful thumbs-up before banking away to resume the chase.
Cho exhaled shakily. "Merlin's Beard… remind me never to doubt you again."
Aris allowed himself the faintest smirk. "All part of the service."
And down on the pitch, the match roared on. Gryffindor hadn't lost its Seeker— not yet.
Aris had only finished testing this spell yesterday: it turned a patch of air into a dense "wind zone." Anything hurtling through it had its speed chopped by more than eighty per cent.
So when Harry—clinging to his runaway Nimbus like a meteor about to crash-land—ploughed into that invisible buffer, everything slowed to a crawl. Boy and broom floated in a strange, dream-like slow-motion swirl.
An instant before they would have slammed into him, Aris stepped forward, seized the broom's shaft, used a little support to hop sideways, and kicked Harry safely to the turf—rescuing him in the neatest round-about way possible.
He was just wondering how to finish taming the broom when it bucked harder than ever, wrenched itself free of the wind zone, and rocketed skyward—dragging Aris along for the ride.
Below, Hermione and Cho screamed his name—he could hear the panic, even the wobble of tears—but there was no time to comfort them.
The Nimbus juddered violently, shooting higher and higher.
"Oh, so you're still at it, are you?" Aris muttered, casting a sidelong glance toward the staff stand where Quirrell sat. A wry smile curved his lips.
Planting both feet on the footrests, he shifted his weight, swung a leg over, and settled properly astride the broom.
He was never fond of broom-flying—always thought the handle dug into very important places and could lead to some future problems if not careful—but that didn't mean he couldn't do it.
And if Quirrell wanted a mid-air tug-of-war, well… Aris was happy to oblige.
"Since you still want to play, then I'll play with you!"
Though the broom was still shaking, it barely fazed Aris.
As his research into wind magic deepened, so did his mastery over it.
The force of the wind lifted him, making him as light as catkins. He could easily let go of the broom and drift gently to the ground, but at that moment, a new idea struck him.
"Slow down and steady yourself!"
Aris cast a balancing spell on himself.
He'd picked up the spell from a rather obscure tome filled with odd magics — including one that could stop a runny nose from sneezing.
Finding it quite amusing, he spent two days reading through it and testing most of the spells.
The original inventor had designed this spell to help swimmers stay balanced and avoid sinking.
Aris never imagined it'd come in handy up here!
Thanks to the Wind Walk and Balance spells, even though the broom wobbled wildly, the impact on him was minimal.
He sat firm on the broom like duckweed on a pond, only lifting like catkins if the shaking became too fierce.
To the little wizards below, it was simply brilliant!
Aris seemed to be dancing across the sky — beautiful and romantic.
The little witches watching from below were utterly stunned, their eyes sparkling with admiration.
On the other side, Harry, Hermione, and the others who'd just been rescued had now regrouped in the Ravenclaw stands.
"Professor Snape—it's Snape! He's casting a spell!"
Harry, who'd been scanning the crowd from the start, suddenly shouted, eyes wide with alarm.
"He's meddling with the broom—I know it!"
Hermione had been doing the same—trying to spot whoever was hexing the broomstick. She'd even clocked Snape, but seeing Harry nearly crash into Aris had thrown her off for a moment.
Now that Aris seemed to be out of immediate danger, she picked up the telescope again and turned it towards the staff stand—straight at Snape.
She didn't jump to conclusions right away. Aris's words echoed in her mind:
'Even if you suspect Quirrell, you mustn't doubt Professor Snape.'
So, she shifted her gaze slightly upwards—across to the other side.
Her eyes narrowed.
Her lips moved silently as she tracked the direction of the incantation.
Quirrell. He was muttering a spell too!
"I'll be back in a tick!"
The young witch slammed the telescope down and dashed off towards the professor's stand without a second thought.
"Wait, Hermione! Where are you off to now?"
Cho, knowing Hermione's nature well, didn't hesitate to follow—she could tell the girl had spotted something important.
Meanwhile, up in the air, Aris had fully gotten the hang of the broom.
He floated like dandelion fluff on a breeze, body gently stretching every so often—his movements smooth, almost balletic.
With his left hand gripping the broom, he drew his wand in one swift motion with his right.
At that moment, everyone thought he was about to cast a spell to stop the broom.
But unexpectedly, as Aris waved his wand, a brilliant light burst forth.
The light didn't hit the broom. Instead, after flying a short distance, it struck right where the professor's stand stood.
Boom!
The violent explosion and roaring flames instantly engulfed the entire stand.
The little wizard down below and the crowd in the other stands were all left gobsmacked.
"Oh bloody hell, what's he playing at? Is he trying to blow up the broom?"
"No way, Merlin's beard — he's gone and blown up the bloody stands!"
"We can't expect him to aim spells properly right now, can we?"
"This has got to be an accident — someone find a way to rescue him!"
"Does anyone know how to call back a runaway broom? This is proper chaos!"
As the flames roared, thick smoke quickly spread over the professor's stand.
Aris hadn't meant to blow the stands to bits. The spell was powerful, sure, but nowhere near as destructive as it looked. It was mostly a show — sound and light to make a point.
His real aim was just to teach Quirrell a lesson, not to harm anyone.
Meanwhile, Hermione and Cho, who had already rushed down to the base of the professor's stand, stood frozen at the sight.
"Aris must've worked out who's been messing with the broom," Hermione said, certain.
"So he blew up the whole stand?" Cho asked, disbelief clear in his voice.
"No clue. Anyway, let's go check it out!"
The two kept running up towards the top of the stands.
The Quidditch arena's stands were all wooden, with a spiral staircase winding straight to the summit.
The two young witches hurried up the stairs and soon reached the back of the stands.
"The damage here doesn't look too bad, does it?"
Hermione immediately sensed something was off.
"Aris definitely didn't mean to actually blow up all the professors!"
Cho let out a relieved sigh, then asked, puzzled, "Hermione, what exactly are you planning to do?"
"Haven't you worked it out yet?" Hermione explained quickly, "The broom going haywire wasn't an accident. Someone's been interfering with the broom's spell — and that someone is our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrell!"
"How do you know?" Cho asked, surprised.
"Just wait and you'll see!"
As they spoke, they arrived beneath the stands, with Quirrell positioned above them.
Through the gaps in the wooden boards, they could clearly see that most of the spectators in the stands were in a state of utter panic.
Thankfully, there wasn't any serious damage.
Only Quirrell's face was completely blackened, with smoke curling off his body.
The headscarf he wore — which gave off a strong whiff of garlic and was often used by the young wizards to tease one another — was also ablaze.
It looked like there was a ball of fire sitting right on Quirrell's head, making for quite the spectacle.
Snape wasn't looking too flash either, with sparks flying from various parts of his body.
But luckily, his slightly greasy hair was still intact.
"Professor Quirrell, sorry! My spell went a bit pear-shaped!"
Just as Hermione was plotting how to get back at Aris and stir up more trouble for Quirrell, a voice suddenly rang out from above.
Aris swooped down on a broomstick and slowly made his way to the stands.
Without Quirrell's interference, Harry's Nimbus 2000 broom had finally returned to normal.
Aris was riding it now, though his movements were just as clumsy as any other Quidditch player on the pitch.
"What on earth do you think you're playing at, boy?"
Before Quirrell could utter a word, Snape erupted in a furious roar.
"You actually tried to blow the bloody broom away with an Exploding Spell? Did you forget you were still bloody on it?!"
It was clear Snape still hadn't quite worked out what was going on.
He hadn't stopped to wonder why the broom suddenly went back to normal after Aris lobbed that explosive spell.
All he could think about was how his brand-new robe had been ruined.
And the culprit? Aris — the one boy he'd always despised and found a right headache.
That was more than enough to set him off.
"Sorry, Professor Snape!" Aris grinned awkwardly and shrugged.
To be fair, Aris wasn't entirely in the wrong.
Snape had been busy chanting counter-spells to save everyone, but his spell had set Snape's robes on fire.
Honestly, it was something only a cheeky kid would pull off.
Especially since the other spectators in the stands had all been affected to some degree.
But Aris? Not a single regret in sight.
Seeing Quirrell's current state, Aris felt properly chuffed.
When he'd cast that spell earlier, he was aiming straight at Quirrell.
So naturally, the one suffering the most right now was that bloke!
After hearing Aris's words, Quirrell pointed a trembling finger at him. His whole body was shaking — whether from fear or anger, it was hard to tell.
"Professor, your turban's on fire. Need a hand putting it out?"
As he said this, Aris raised his wand again and aimed it at Quirrell.
"No, stop it!!!"
Quirrell suddenly seemed to realise something, his eyes widening with horror.
He started frantically slapping at his headscarf, trying to snuff out the flames.
At the same time, he looked furious and quickly shoved the crowd aside, running towards the stands.
No surprise there — he was running away from everyone again.
Aris could understand why; if that turban came off, something really nasty would happen!
Right now, Quirrell must've been cursing like mad inside his head.
Well, maybe the guy living in his body was ready to cast a killing curse on Aris at that very moment.
"I knew he wouldn't take any real damage!" Hermione said, staring after Quirrell as he dashed past, sparks still flying from his head.
Cho, standing nearby, hadn't quite worked out the full story yet, but she just nodded blankly.
"This is proper serious. Hope Aris doesn't get suspended or punished for this!"
"Impossible! Why'd he be suspended?"
Hermione frowned as she watched Quirrell's embarrassed retreat, quietly making a firm decision in her mind.
She'd be sure to tell Headmaster Dumbledore about all this!
Just then, a faint shout came from outside: "Look! It's the Golden Snitch!"
Hearing that, Hermione and Cho both dashed towards the stands.
Up in the sky, Aris instinctively turned his head and caught sight of a flash of golden light to his right.
Got it!
He reached out without thinking and caught the shimmering glow in his hand.
Suddenly, he realised the game wasn't over yet.
But he'd caught the Snitch all by himself!
Now the question was: who wins the match?
After all, he wasn't part of the Gryffindor team — nor Slytherin.
A proper Quidditch match was supposed to go on until someone caught the Snitch, no matter what else happened.
This outcome was something no one there had expected…
Sure enough, after Aris caught the Golden Snitch, the whole stadium fell into a tense, eerie silence.
Everyone stared up at Aris's figure hovering in the sky, wide-eyed with amazement.
Especially Madam Hooch, the referee for the match.
.
.
.
.
Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 133 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]