Before Harry could take action, he noticed Hermione sneaking towards the staff seats.
What is she doing?
Harry forgot for a moment to keep casting the Finite spell on his broom, causing it to shake violently, almost throwing him off.
"Wow—" Exclamations erupted from the stands.
"What exactly is Hermione doing?" Ron asked anxiously, holding binoculars but unable to see Hermione, so he hurriedly asked Hagrid.
"I don't know either," Hagrid replied absentmindedly, his hands clasped together, fervently praying for Harry.
Up in the sky, Harry watched as Hermione squeezed onto the stand, and before Hermione could do anything, he felt the force making the broom shake disappear.
What's going on? he wondered, watching Hermione set Snape's robe on fire.
"You're on fire!" someone next to Snape shouted, breaking Snape's concentration as he hurriedly stood up to extinguish the flames on his robe.
He looked truly pained about the robe.
Harry was puzzled; what was going on?
But there was no time for Harry to ponder further, as a golden flash suddenly darted past his eyes.
The Golden Snitch!
Swift as lightning, Harry maneuvered his broom downwards and, with a quick grab, caught the Snitch in his hand.
He raised his arm high, the Golden Snitch buzzing in his hand.
"Harry Potter caught the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor scores 150 points!" Lee Jordan shouted excitedly: "The Gryffindor team wins 170 to 60!"
Mrs. Hooqi also flew over on her broom, blowing the whistle to signal the end of the match.
"Gryffindor wins!"
Harry landed lightly on the ground, his jubilant teammates crowding around him, cheering loudly.
"Potter! Potter! Potter!"
The Weasley Twins, in particular, shouted in unison, mirroring each other's movements perfectly.
"Professor McGonagall!" Harry shouted to Professor McGonagall on the edge of the crowd, holding up the Golden Snitch: "I caught the Golden Snitch!"
But Professor McGonagall approached with concern, asking, "Potter, what happened just now? Was there something wrong with your broom?"
"It's nothing, Professor," Harry chose to lie, "I just lost my grip, I was too nervous, my hands were sweaty and slippery—"
"I see," Professor McGonagall smiled, clapping her hands with joy: "That's wonderful, we won!"
"We won!" Wood punched the air with his fist, shouting loudly: "We finally beat Slytherin!"
Heaven knows, Gryffindor hadn't won against Slytherin in Quidditch since he entered the school...
After celebrating on the field for a while, Harry politely declined the invitation to return to the Gryffindor Common Room with his teammates, instead being pulled into Hagrid's small hut by Hermione and Ron.
"It was Snape!" Hermione asserted confidently: "Ron and I both saw him casting a spell on your Flying Broom, muttering to himself and staring at you intently."
"Nonsense!" Hagrid countered, having focused solely on Harry and not noticed Snape's actions: "How could that be?"
"I went up to the stands and cast a Flame Spell on Snape's robe, and then Harry's broom stopped shaking," Hermione said: "This proves Snape was casting a spell."
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Hagrid insisted, furrowing his thick eyebrows: "Professor Snape is a Hogwarts professor, he has no reason to do that, if you suspect him, then tell me, why would he do it?"
Indeed, why?
Hermione opened her mouth, uncertain what to say, but Ron argued, "You know, Snape is the head of Slytherin, he never wants Gryffindor to score more points than Slytherin, so he did it..."
"No way!" Hagrid retorted angrily: "If it was someone else who had been cursed, what you said might be possible—but Harry, absolutely not!"
"Why?" Ron asked, bewildered.
"Don't ask, I won't say anything," Hagrid quickly clammed up, reluctant to gossip about the past grievances of the previous generation.
Besides, he had promised Dumbledore and Snape to keep these matters confidential.
"But, Hermione," Harry noticed Hermione wanted to press further, so he redirected her attention.
He also wished to know Hagrid's reasons, but since Hagrid wasn't willing to talk, he didn't want to push.
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, turning back to him.
"I noticed when you climbed up to the staff stand," Harry said softly: "My broom had already stopped shaking before you cast a spell on Snape—he was still staring and chanting at me, but the broom showed no signs of wobbling."
"How on earth did you see that?" Ron asked in disbelief: "Mate, you wear glasses."
"That's a Seeker's essential skill, isn't it?" Harry gave an irrefutable reason.
Hermione stood up, began pacing in Hagrid's hut, resting one hand on her elbow and using the other to hold her chin, frowning as if talking to herself: "If that's the case, then who else could it be? Harry, are you sure?"
"I think Professor Snape might have a grudge against me, but he's definitely not the one trying to kill me," Harry said confidently.
Then he shifted the conversation, posing another question.
"What puzzles me is, Principal Dumbledore was in the stands, why didn't he stop my broom from being cursed?"
"Or to put it another way, why did that person dare to curse my broom in front of Principal Dumbledore?"
Ron suddenly had an epiphany, raising a finger.
"Hey? Could it be that Dumbledore ordered it?"
Before he finished speaking, he received an elbow jab from Hermione.
"Ronald! What are you thinking? Is Hogwarts a nest of Death Eaters?" she snapped, as furious as a lioness.
Ron stuck out his tongue, scratching his head: "I know it's not like that, I was just trying to lighten the mood."
But clearly, the atmosphere grew chillier.
"Of course, I don't suspect Principal Dumbledore," Harry said firmly, unconsciously tapping the table with his fingers: "But I'm just questioning why he would do nothing."