Wizards are just born obsessed with Quidditch, especially when there are only a few matches left in the season.
Gryffindor had already taken down Slytherin and Hufflepuff.
Ravenclaw had beaten Slytherin too. Next up: Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw to decide who'd face Gryffindor in the finals.
That's why Roger and Prefect Penelope were laser-focused on the last game.
"Prefect Penelope, I'll give it everything I've got."
As a Chaser, Roger's "everything" meant helping the team rack up a 150-point lead. That way, even if the other Seeker caught the Snitch, Ravenclaw would still win.
Tougher than catching the Snitch in the first five minutes.
Penelope didn't reply. Instead, the Ravenclaw Quidditch team got rowdier:
"Okay, Prefect, flight permits are hard to come by. But does the Ravenclaw team really need to rely on a first-year?"
A tall Ravenclaw teased.
"Wood 'accidentally' walked into our changing room three times in two months… I still don't know what he saw…"
Penelope pinched a schedule sheet (Quidditch pitch bookings she'd copied). Gryffindor's practice overlapped with Sean's flight test. Ever since, Wood kept "getting lost" and wandering into the Ravenclaw changing room like an idiot.
Every visit cranked Penelope's stress up another notch.
Keep in mind, Gryffindor already had Potter on the team.
"Wood's a Quidditch nut. You know that. Always wanted to go pro."
The tall Ravenclaw dropped the smile. Message clear: Don't try to logic a madman.
"Weakness isn't what loses games. Arrogance is. Underestimating your opponent? That's how you get crushed."
Penelope sighed and left the Great Hall.
…
The Hall was loud. Some little wizards were deep in weird wizard chess matches, others debating the Quidditch Cup.
Hope Cottage members huddled together, swapping updates on Professor Quirrell's latest moves.
They all agreed now: Snape was Hogwarts' secret guardian, probably hand-picked by Dumbledore himself.
Think about it: a snarky, venom-tongued professor quietly protecting everyone, while the timid, cowardly Quirrell was Voldemort's puppet.
If Sean hadn't confirmed it, no one would've believed it.
"I saw Malfoy get detention again. Apparently he and his goons picked a fight and got wrecked…"
Ron grinned, baby-fat cheeks glowing with "I've got the scoop" pride.
He clapped Neville on the shoulder:
"You gotta be like this, Neville. Stand up to him!"
Ron continued, "He's always acting superior. No reason to bow down and let him win."
Neville nodded shakily. Ron shook his head like steel, not pudding.
In Hope Cottage, everyone agreed Neville needed help, especially after sharing certain responsibilities. Mutual support had become the group's vibe.
Though sometimes "support" meant everyone ganging up to ask Sean for help.
"Sean, I've gotta say, Hagrid's so careless. You need to be more careful."
Hermione flashed back to that day at the forest edge, staring blankly while Sean rode a hippogriff.
Harry and Ron were just jealous. Hermione? That's insanely dangerous!
Sean had been quietly watching clueless Ron and Neville, then nodded when called out.
In Hope Cottage, magic study was the main topic. But in the Hall, kids loved swapping fun stories and checking in on each other.
Justin thought it was the coziest vibe and always egged it on with a grin.
Clinking cutlery and sizzling food were the Hall's soundtrack. Sometimes Sean felt it was just a giant wizard nap spot.
Sitting together melted the distance between everyone.
Dusk crept in, the sky swaying as the mountains swallowed the sun.
The corridor was dim, but that didn't slow the black cat leaping silently from suit of armor to suit of armor.
Sean needed to hit the dungeons early, sort the office and supply cupboard.
Technically, Snape had probably forgotten he'd assigned it. But magic's easy: one Levitation Charm and Sean could finish fast.
Plus, it was a mini review of ingredients and the potions they went into.
His homework planner, shrunk to a pendant, hung around the cat's neck.
Sean had used Shrinking, Transfiguration, and Levitation runes so the planner and quill could be pulled out, read, and written in cat form.
Fixed the "can't talk as a cat" problem.
Perks of being an alchemist: nothing's impossible, just unlearned magic.
Right now, the planner floated in midair. Top line clear:
[Bowtruckle Biscuit Ritual Complete]
Sean's top priority.
Last ritual worked thanks to the absurd power of "I reckon it'll work."
Basically: Sean used will-strengthening, and the new ritual just happened.
Not easy to repeat. He'd modeled it after Polyjuice Potion, and his cat Animagus form helped a ton. Cat to Bowtruckle is easier than wizard to Bowtruckle.
Outside the dungeons.
The black cat hopped down two steps, then morphed into a black-robed little wizard.
It was a cold, crisp evening. Night falling. A pale, translucent moon already hung over the castle.
Snape's mood had been getting worse by the day, his dark eyes unfocused for long stretches.
Especially after that damn knight portrait got moved to the dungeon door.
It kept yelling:
"He went to the big cat's house, and you, Severus, you coward, won't even drop a hint of your name.
You keep lowering your expectations, never thinking you deserve anything. Damn it, to avoid an ending, you'll refuse every beginning?"