[Chapter Size: 2200 Words.]
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The ball was the size of a walnut, golden, with two small silver wings fluttering on either side, making it look almost adorable.
Adrian held the ball out to Amanda.
"The Golden Snitch flies as fast as lightning, it's practically invisible during a match," he said with a grin, then suddenly let it go.
The Snitch darted left and right in front of them, glittering in the sunlight, before vanishing into the middle of the pitch.
"Amanda, show me your strength," Adrian said, handing her his broom.
Marcus smacked Adrian lightly on the back of the head.
"What are you doing? She's still a beginner!"
"That's exactly why we need to see if she's a genius. I don't plan to lose the Quidditch Cup this year."
Amanda mounted Adrian's broom.
"Okay, I'll give it a try."
Sitting on the broom was far more comfortable than she'd expected. Perhaps it was enchanted, it almost felt like sitting on a soft cushion.
But what truly put her at ease was the familiar sensation that surrounded her again, the exhilarating feeling of soaring freely through the open sky.
She rose high above the pitch, scanning the field below, squinting as she searched for even the faintest glimmer of gold.
At midday, the Quidditch field shimmered with sunlight, its dazzling brightness full of golden reflections. Finding the Snitch was like searching for a needle in a haystack, it was almost impossible to see clearly.
Amanda glided gracefully across the field, her eyes scanning every inch for the Snitch.
Soon, she spotted a tiny flash of light, She sped toward it, only to realize, as she drew closer, that it was just the reflection from a broken piece of mirror.
Amanda circled the pitch several more times, but still found nothing.
The blazing sun made her eyes ache.
She paused, watching the pitch intently, holding her breath. Focus. Look. Listen.
Suddenly, she heard a faint buzzing nearby, like the hum of a mosquito. Turning her head, she spotted the Golden Snitch hovering not far to her right.
She darted after it.
The Snitch flapped its tiny wings rapidly, zipping away in a burst of speed.
Amanda's eyes locked on it as she chased, wind whipping her light blond hair behind her.
She followed the Snitch as it zipped above the stands, nearly colliding with the support beams, but she adjusted her course just in time to avoid them.
Drawing closer, she chased it through one of the goal hoops. Then, suddenly, the Snitch veered sharply upward, flying right over her head.
Amanda tightened her grip on the broom, crossed her legs, and flipped upside down in the air to follow.
It was about to happen, Ten meters... seven... five... one and a half... thirty centimeters!
She reached out, her fingertips grazing the air, Just a little farther.
Finally, she released the broom with both hands, balancing delicately with her legs and body.
The tiny golden Snitch was reflected in her blue eyes. Amanda reached forward.
"Caught it!"
Her heart pounded as she closed her hands around the fluttering sphere. The Snitch wriggled and beat its wings weakly against her palms.
Amanda descended slowly and landed on the grass, walking toward Marcus and Adrian. She lifted the captured Snitch, smiling proudly.
"I got it."
"Incredible! Amanda, that was brilliant! You're a natural! It's a shame no one discovered you sooner, you should be playing in the World Cup already!" Marcus exclaimed, his voice full of excitement.
"Congratulations, you've passed the test," Adrian said, grinning and giving her a thumbs-up.
Marcus pulled a pocket watch from his robes and checked the time.
"Let's see how long that took... Merlin's beard! Only twenty minutes!" he shouted, astonished.
"Slytherin will definitely win the Quidditch Cup again this year," Adrian said proudly, extending his hand.
Amanda laughed and high-fived them both.
…
"I already know," Draco muttered bitterly later that afternoon during Defense Against the Dark Arts. "My godfather asked my father to buy you a broom. He said our family peacock just loves showing off his generosity everywhere, and now he has the perfect excuse to 'invest in a talented player' and 'support a poor student.' Those were his exact words."
"Father bought you a Nimbus 2000. It's so unfair! I only have a Comet 260." His voice dripped with envy.
He was clearly jealous that Amanda had been chosen for the Quidditch team.
Harry, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as sour. His bright green eyes sparkled with excitement like tiny stars.
Amanda suspected it was because he had never ridden a broom before and didn't yet know about his own natural flying talent.
At that moment, Harry still worried he'd make a fool of himself once flying lessons began, though his eagerness to learn and play Quidditch was no less than Draco's.
"I'm so excited just thinking about it! I can't wait to see you out there on the Quidditch pitch. Oh, can I come watch your practice?"
"I'll ask Marcus later, but I think it should be fine," Amanda replied.
"Brilliant!" Harry cheered.
Then he suddenly realized everyone in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was staring at him.
"Dear Mr. Potter," said Professor Quirrell, his stuttering voice uncertain. "M-may I help you with something?"
His eyes flicked nervously between the three of them, but Amanda could feel his gaze lingering on her a moment too long.
"Ah!"
With a thud, Harry suddenly collapsed from his chair, clutching his head and writhing in pain.
Amanda and Draco jumped to help him, but Harry kept kicking and twisting on the floor. He was pale, drenched in sweat, his face contorted in agony.
"What's wrong with him?!"
"Potter's gone mad!"
"Did someone curse him?!"
"Is it the garlic smell from Professor Quirrell?"
The classroom erupted into chaos.
"Ah, quickly! Take Mr. Potter to the hospital wing!" Professor Quirrell shouted from the back of the room.
Harry eventually stopped moving, weak and trembling. Amanda and Draco seized the chance to help him up, thankfully, he was light, or it would have been much harder.
"Draco! I know where the hospital wing is. Come on, I'll take you," Blaise said, patting Draco's shoulder and gesturing for them to follow.
Amanda and Draco each took one of Harry's arms and supported him between them. His head hung low as he panted softly.
"Finally... away from that garlic-smelling classroom..." Blaise muttered uneasily as they stepped into the corridor.
Once they were a safe distance away, Amanda glanced back to make sure no one was following them.
Then she looked worriedly at Harry and whispered, "Harry... is your scar hurting again?"
"Yeah... it's much worse this time," he replied weakly.
His face was pale, and he still hadn't fully recovered from the pain.
Draco looked uneasy.
"Does that mean his power is growing?"
Amanda's expression darkened.
"I think... I'm afraid it does."
Blaise, who was walking ahead, suddenly turned around and looked at them with interest.
"Are you talking about... the Dark Lord?"
"How do you know?" Harry asked abruptly, and Amanda quickly covered her mouth.
Blaise led them down the stairs, seemingly unconcerned.
"The pain in your scar, no matter what you think of it, can only be connected to the Dark Lord."
Amanda was a little surprised. In the original story she had read, there had only been a brief mention of Blaise, so she knew almost nothing about him.
Over the past few days, Blaise had tried to show off his charm and good looks, though he often made careless mistakes in class.
She had always thought Blaise was a shallow boy who only cared about her looks and admiration from others.
Now it seemed she had misjudged him.
Slytherin really was full of hidden talent.
But could Blaise be on Voldemort's side?
Amanda felt slightly wary, and so did Harry.
They said nothing more. When Blaise brought them to the school hospital on the second floor, he waved his hand to indicate he needed to return to class.
After Blaise left, Draco approached Amanda and Harry and whispered,
"Don't worry about Blaise. He's just like you, he's always despised Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Or rather, he doesn't care about anything at all."
Draco spread his hands.
"That's... quite interesting."
Amanda rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
"Ah, what happened to you?"
Madam Pomfrey hurried out from behind the bed curtains and looked carefully at Harry, who was sitting between them.
Harry glanced at Amanda and Draco, hesitating.
"I... suddenly have a headache," he said vaguely.
"Come here, let me take a look."
Madam Pomfrey pointed to a corner of the room where many strange-looking medical instruments and bottles were placed.
She then examined Harry carefully.
"Boy, there's nothing wrong with you."
Madam Pomfrey slammed the instrument down in frustration, clearly thinking they were plotting to play a trick on her.
Amanda wasn't surprised. Harry and Draco both sighed in relief, especially Harry, who kept muttering to himself, "Great! I thought my head was going to split open..."
"Rest well, attend your classes properly, and eat well. I don't believe anything like this will happen again."
Madam Pomfrey scolded them before letting them go.
They returned to the second-floor classroom for a drowsy History of Magic lesson.
At dinner, when nearly all the students had arrived, Dumbledore suddenly rose from the staff table and walked to the golden owl-shaped podium at the center.
"Students of Hogwarts, I have something to announce while you dine."
Everyone looked at Dumbledore curiously. It was rare to see him speak so informally in public.
However, given the rumors circulating all day, most students had already guessed what Dumbledore was about to say.
Many turned their eyes toward the Slytherin table, trying to spot the source of the gossip.
"I can't help feeling anxious to know what Professor Dumbledore is going to say," Harry said eagerly.
Draco's face flushed slightly, as if it were an embarrassing story that couldn't be mentioned. He muttered resentfully, "Don't bring it up. I feel sick just thinking about them now."
"A very, very regrettable incident occurred today. Fortunately, we can still see that Miss Merlin is safe and sound after this unfortunate disaster. Hogwarts stands firmly against such incidents, against fights between classmates, and strongly condemns any act that attempts to take another person's life."
"Pansy Parkinson has been taken away by Aurors from the Ministry of Magic and will stand trial soon. She will likely face a prison sentence of one to four years and remain under constant supervision for a longer period. At the same time, the Parkinson family has announced that Pansy Parkinson will be removed from their family tree."
"Although Daphne Greengrass has consistently insisted that she knew nothing of the incident and was threatened by Pansy, given the seriousness of the harm caused, we have decided that she will be suspended for one year, return home for proper family discipline, and may come back to school afterward."
"I'm announcing this tonight in the hope that you all take it as a warning. As wizards, good character is far more important than exceptional skill. I hope that, during my many years of teaching, I will safely witness each of you graduate."
Amanda wasn't particularly surprised by the fate of Pansy and Daphne.
When people do such things, they must understand they'll have to pay the price for their words and actions.
Harry cheered, raising his arms as though he wanted to dance in celebration, if only he could.
"Retribution! This is retribution! Amanda, why aren't you clapping with me?"
"Uh-huh."
Amanda clapped half-heartedly.
Draco clapped enthusiastically several times until his palms turned red.
"Damn it!" he muttered.
After Dumbledore stepped down from the podium, the Great Hall suddenly filled with noise and excitement as everyone began discussing what had happened.
A tall, handsome boy rose from the Hufflepuff table and walked toward Amanda and the others, causing quite a stir among the Hufflepuffs.
He looked a little overwhelmed by the attention but still approached them with a kind, slightly shy smile.
"Hello, I'm Cedric Diggory, third year. Amanda, Draco, nice to meet you."
Amanda stared at him.
Three years later, during the Triwizard Tournament, Cedric's death would shock all of Hogwarts, and the entire wizarding world.
In the final stage of the Triwizard Tournament, he and Harry had touched the Triwizard Cup together. They thought they had claimed victory for Hogwarts, never imagining that the Cup had been turned into a Portkey.
After touching it, they were transported to the graveyard of Little Hangleton Church, where Voldemort was waiting.
All because of Voldemort's command: "Kill the boy."
Peter Pettigrew then cast the Killing Curse, ending Cedric's life, so suddenly, so easily.
The cheerful, lively boy who had been speaking only a second before became a cold, lifeless body the next.
The wizarding world's fear came from the fact that his death proved Voldemort had truly returned.
No one could believe the incident, which cast a terrible shadow over everyone.
Only the people of Hogwarts truly mourned his death.
In the hearts of every Hogwarts student, this handsome boy, embodying all the finest qualities of Hufflepuff: honesty, fairness, kindness, and diligence, would forever remain a part of that night, which should have been filled with glory.
Amanda looked at the delicate-featured boy standing before her, and a faint trace of sorrow filled her heart.
Harry was the first to step forward, shaking Cedric's hand eagerly.
"Cedric! What are you doing here?"
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