Before the Quidditch season began, each house finalized its official roster.
What stood out most was Slytherin gaining three new players at once, and Ravenclaw replacing their Seeker. Hufflepuff and Gryffindor retained nearly identical lineups from the previous year.
Because of this, Wood—ever the tactician—spun into overdrive analyzing Slytherin's changes. As last year's champion, he refused to believe their captain, Draco Malfoy, relied on connections over ability.
Because he took it all so seriously, the Gryffindor team had been complaining nonstop. Beyond regular training, they were pulled together for strategy sessions even in off-hours. Even Quidditch-obsessed Harry Potter felt drained...
...
More than being overwhelmed with Quidditch, Harry had been in a terrible mood lately.
Colin Creevey kept appearing from corners with his camera, snapping pictures nonstop. And Professor Lockhart, every time he saw Harry, would throw an arm around his shoulders and whisper bizarre theories in his ear. It left Harry speechless.
Lockhart's words sometimes sounded reasonable—but Harry still found them odd.
That might've been manageable—if not for one thing: even his best friend Ron had disappeared outside necessary class time. Harry hadn't seen him anywhere.
Trouble. Pressure. Confusion.
All these emotions assaulted Harry Potter at once, in that short timeframe...
"Harry, are you really okay?"
"I'm fine."
He said it, but Hermione's worried expression told another story. She'd been shaken by how pale Harry looked before. Who knew if he'd collapse again?
That made Harry irritated. He understood Hermione's concern—but after so many reassurances, he increasingly bristled. Most of all, he subconsciously didn't want anyone knowing his forehead scar could still trigger intense pain.
He didn't want to be treated like a fragile child, or be seen as strange. It all felt... off, to say the least.
But none of that was what truly unsettled Harry.
It was what happened in Professor Lockhart's office.
It wasn't the dreadful experience of answering fan mail, nor enduring Lockhart's narcissistic monologues, nor even the punishment that recalled Mrs. Weasley's Howler.
It was the midnight visit—when Harry heard strange sounds in Lockhart's office that no one else appeared to hear. When he brought it up, Lockhart brushed him off, suggesting fatigue had caused hallucinations.
Now, whenever Harry remembered that sound—he pulled his robe tighter.
It was a dark, damp voice... as though something was being torn apart...
...
Hermione, standing nearby, hadn't noticed Harry zoning out. She continued the conversation from earlier.
"Really? That's good, then. It's just... I didn't expect Professor Lockhart to be that kind of wizard."
Hermione wasn't a die-hard fan or anything, but seeing that her favorite author wasn't quite how he appeared in his books left her feeling more than a little disappointed.
Maybe it wouldn't have felt so jarring if Lockhart hadn't been the main character in all those books...
"Seriously? But don't you think that Malfoy's the real disappointment? I can't believe he'd actually attack his own classmate!"
"Huh?"
Hermione blinked at Harry's sudden outburst, caught off guard. Harry didn't notice the subtle disapproval on her face and just kept going.
"I don't get how any wizard could like someone like that."
As he spoke, a trace of jealousy flickered across Harry's face—something he didn't even realize himself—as he recalled the petite figure always by Draco's side.
But even as he said it, he completely missed the growing irritation in Hermione's eyes.
Something about Harry badmouthing someone behind their back rubbed her the wrong way. She frowned, closed the book she suddenly couldn't focus on, and finally spoke up.
It wasn't just a casual opinion—it sounded more like she was standing up for Draco.
"I don't think Draco's that kind of person. And maybe it really was Ron who hexed Goyle first?"
Since that earlier misunderstanding with Draco, Hermione had stopped rushing to conclusions so quickly. A big part of that was that she'd gotten to know him better.
Thanks to Norberta, there seemed to be a quiet bond and a bit of trust growing between her and Draco.
But Harry clearly hadn't noticed how much Draco had influenced Hermione during that time...
"No way. You know Ron's wand is broken. If anything, he's the least likely person to have pulled that off."
"....."
Harry gave a dismissive look, as if he found Hermione's suggestion laughable.
It made sense—after all, as Ron's roommate and best friend, Harry knew him better than just about anyone at Hogwarts.
And most of all, compared to Draco, Ron was his friend.
But Hermione's expression told a different story...
That guy... he wouldn't do something without a reason. And lately, Ron had been acting strange.
Hermione didn't say that out loud. She knew Harry wouldn't be willing to hear it.
What unsettled her more was the faint malice she could sense from Harry whenever Draco's name came up.
Compared to last year, that hostility had only grown stronger.
It made Hermione wonder—was there something she'd missed?
...
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