Chapter 37
Chapter 37
Everyone headed to the Quidditch pitch and took seats in the stands assigned to their Houses.
Suer was no exception. He followed Justin, who had binoculars hanging against his chest, as they searched for the best place to watch.
“Ouch…” Suer clutched his stomach with one hand and grimaced in pain.
“What’s wrong?” Justin asked at once.
“I may need the bathroom.” Suer looked miserable. “I think I ate too many sausages.”
“I probably won’t be able to watch the match. Find seats with Morn. Don’t wait for me.”
With that, Suer turned and hurried against the stream of people leaving the pitch, apparently in great distress.
Justin’s faint voice followed him.
“I’ll save you a seat…”
The shout was almost inaudible amid the noise.
“What was Justin saying?” Once Suer left the pitch and re-entered the castle, he lowered his hand and picked at one ear. Not a trace of pain remained on his face.
“Never mind. It can’t be important.”
This was the perfect opportunity to discover how one entered the Room of Requirement.
Suer had gone to the pitch specifically to confirm that their beloved Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was present.
The ease with which he bounded up the stairs revealed the truth: Voldemort Quirinus Quirrell was currently at the Quidditch pitch.
After leaping over two steps that vanished without warning, Suer reached the eighth floor.
He had already identified the Room of Requirement’s location in the left-hand corridor. Headmaster Dumbledore’s office lay on the other side, leaving them perfectly separated. There was no need to fear running into the headmaster.
And even if he did, so what?
Headmaster Dumbledore encouraged students to explore the castle.
So long as they did not break any rules.
Or, more precisely, so long as no one caught them breaking any rules.
Suer walked briskly toward his target corridor. As he approached, his expression suddenly changed. He darted into the shadow behind a pillar and carefully peered around it.
Someone was there.
A figure in black robes stood with their back to Suer before the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being beaten by trolls.
The stranger’s robes bulged as though stuffed with many objects.
Highly suspicious.
Should Suer find Headmaster Dumbledore?
No. An outside intruder could not slip so easily into Hogwarts Castle. Other students might not know it, but Suer understood that an invisible barrier covered the castle. The arrival of an outsider would be detected.
That meant the mysterious figure had to belong to Hogwarts.
Perhaps one of the professors.
Which one?
Today was the first Quidditch match of the school year. Most professors had gone to watch. Who would creep secretly to the eighth floor while everyone else was occupied?
Thoughts raced through Suer’s mind. It seemed as though several minutes passed, but in reality, it took only seconds.
The stranger moved.
Suer immediately drew farther behind the pillar.
The robed figure walked back and forth three times before the tapestry, then stopped.
At that moment, a doorway silently appeared in the blank wall opposite.
That was it!
The Room of Requirement he had searched for everywhere.
So that was the method. Walk past the wall three times?
Suer memorised the process. Before the stranger could turn, he calmly withdrew and concealed himself fully behind the pillar.
When he looked again, the last corner of the door was disappearing.
As the saying went: one could search until one’s iron shoes wore through, only to find the prize without effort.
This trip had been enormously rewarding.
As for the black-robed figure, Suer soon pushed them from his thoughts. Hogwarts was exceptionally bizarre this year. The final villain had appeared ahead of schedule. One more strange person was hardly surprising.
Suer was curious about who the figure was and why they had entered the Room of Requirement.
But curiosity killed the cat. He had the body of a first-year; staying alive mattered more.
If the sky fell, Dumbledore could hold it up.
Had Harry caught the Golden Snitch yet?
If Suer returned now, he might still see the most exciting part.
The moment he re-entered the Quidditch pitch, he heard the commentator’s passionate voice and Professor McGonagall’s warning cough.
“Slytherin has the Quaffle–Flint has it–he’s past Spinnet–past Bell–oh! A Bludger caught him directly in the face! Let’s hope it broke his nose.”
“Ahem,” Professor McGonagall warned.
“Only joking, Professor. Slytherin scores–damn it!”
The commentator was definitely a Gryffindor.
Suer quickly found his roommates near the front of the Hufflepuff stand.
Justin held the binoculars in one hand, his face flushed with excitement.
An earth-shaking cheer erupted from the Slytherin section. Apart from Suer, however, no one seemed to notice anything wrong with Harry.
His broom had begun spinning as it carried him away from the pitch and shot skyward like a rocket.
Suer snatched Justin’s binoculars without warning, raised them to his eyes, and tilted the lenses upward.
The match continued. By now, the crowd had begun to notice Harry’s danger, and many people pointed at the sky.
“Let me see too! What’s happening?” Justin anxiously pressed closer.
Suer pushed his large face away with distaste and returned the binoculars.
“Something seems wrong with the Gryffindor Seeker’s broom.”
“Didn’t the Slytherin captain collide with Potter’s broom earlier?”
Students discussed it all around him. Everyone stared at Harry, who hung from the bucking broom with one hand.
Suer stood and searched the stands.
He saw Hermione quietly rise from her seat.
He saw Voldemort Quirinus Quirrell’s moving lips.
And, of course, he saw that proud, awkward man muttering a counter-curse.
Poor Professor Quirrell pitched headfirst into the row in front when Hermione knocked him over.
Fire flashed before Suer’s eyes. Professor Snape leapt up in alarm and beat at the flames on his robes.
He had probably never imagined that his own modification of Bluebell Flames would be used against him.
Where was Hermione?
Suer searched the crowd and finally spotted her bushy brown hair beside Neville and Hagrid.
When had Neville hidden inside Hagrid’s coat?
The small commotion in the teachers’ stand did not interrupt the match. Harry hauled himself back onto his broom.
This was bad.
Suer frowned.
Even Hermione would probably believe Snape had malicious intentions now.
If the plot continued along its original course, she would soon become involved in the series of trials Headmaster Dumbledore had arranged.
How could Suer stop her?
As thoughts whirled through his mind, gasps erupted from all four House stands.
Harry dived toward the lawn like an arrow released from a fully drawn bow.
He braked, tumbled awkwardly across the grass, then thrust up one hand and shouted that he had caught the Golden Snitch.
Peep!
Madam Hooch puffed her cheeks and blew the final whistle.
Ignoring the Slytherin captain’s protests, she announced,
“The match is over! Gryffindor wins!”