The aftermath of the match wasn’t just about the shift in how people viewed Draco.
For the young snakes of Slytherin, it sparked a new sense of pride in their team.
Sure, they’d won matches before, but those victories never quite carried the sa weight—never sothing they could truly boast about. This ti, the win felt exhilarating and satisfying, the kind that left them buzzing.
And when they heard students from other houses cheering wildly for their own captains, that rush of honor was beyond words. It was the kind of feeling that could beco addictive—especially for Slytherins, who were notoriously obsessed with glory and achievent.
So even if the one who made all this happen wasn’t one of them, nothing could dampen their enthusiasm.
Because this win belonged to Slytherin.
And the impact wasn’t confined to Slytherin House alone.
In fact, Quidditch fans from other houses also seed to be drawn in by Draco’s flying skills.
It was obvious the mont Draco stepped into the Great Hall, where he was imdiately sward by a crowd of eager young witches and wizards.
"Can I get your autograph? Just here, please."
" too! Is that okay?"
"That match was incredible!"
"Can we co watch the next practice?"
Faced with the excited fans and their flood of scattered requests, Draco’s lips twitched in mild exasperation.
Even putting on his usual aloof expression didn’t seem to help—nothing could cool the enthusiasm these students had for him.
What made it worse was that this had already been going on for several days.
Thankfully, Pansy quickly sensed the situation and had Goyle and Crabbe step in to block the crowd. If she hadn’t, Draco probably would’ve been swallowed alive by the sea of admirers...
...
At first, the commotion around Draco had been a novelty, but as ti went on, people got used to it. It even began to feel... expected.
Even Gryffindors, who usually had nothing but hostility for Slytherins, found it hard to complain—because in the end, it was Draco Malfoy who had saved Harry Potter.
Of course, Ron Weasley, ever the Draco skeptic, was still complaining to Harry like usual...
"Are they all mad? He’s a Death Eater, for rlin’s sake!"
Whether it was envy or jealousy, Ron had always harbored animosity toward Draco. And even though he’d defeated Gryffindor fair and square, Ron hadn’t changed one bit.
"If it weren’t for that broom problem, those slimy Slytherins never would’ve won, right, Harry?"
"Mmh..."
Still bitter over the loss, Harry wasn’t in the mood to respond to Ron’s rant.
Besides, unlike Ron’s biased opinions, Harry—an experienced Quidditch player himself—could clearly feel the skill gap. It wasn’t nearly as simple as Ron claid, especially that unfamiliar, complex tactical system that had caught Harry off guard...
Hermione, who’d been ignoring Ron entirely, noticed the strange look on Harry’s face.
"What's wrong, Harry? You've seed out of it since earlier."
"It's nothing..."
"Co to think of it, you still haven’t told us why Headmaster Dumbledore called you in that day."
While rumors had spread about Harry being summoned to the headmaster’s office, Hermione knew it was no re rumor—she’d seen it herself. Back at the infirmary, Dumbledore had personally taken Harry away.
"Yeah, Harry, why did Dumbledore take your Nimbus 2000? I was actually going to send it back and see if we could get it replaced!"
Ron looked so animated, you’d think the broom belonged to him. Hermione shot him a sharp glare.
Is that really the most important part?
"I think... Headmaster Dumbledore might know sothing."
"Harry, did you notice anything?"
"It didn’t feel like a problem with the broom itself. It was more like... soone was trying to target . That’s the feeling I got."
"No way! This is Hogwarts—good wizards are in charge here. You could say it’s the safest place in all of Britain!"
Harry’s words made Ron frown with disbelief, and his skeptical expression was enough to make Harry second-guess himself.
"Maybe I’m just being paranoid..."
"No, Harry. If it were nothing, Dumbledore wouldn’t have taken your Nimbus 2000. He must’ve sensed sothing—or maybe he wants to investigate it."
"Maybe... maybe..."
Ron seed like he wanted to say more, but even he—dim as he could be sotis—noticed how off everything felt.
Surely Dumbledore wasn’t planning to fix the broom himself, right?
"So what did Dumbledore say to you?"
"He just asked a few questions."
"Could it be, like Hermione said, that soone cast a Dark spell on your broom?"
"If that’s true, then... why ?"
Harry's expression shifted—part anger, part unease.
Naturally, anyone who suspected they were being deliberately targeted would find it hard to stay calm.
"Maybe it’s not that deep. What if it was just those filthy Slytherins doing whatever it took to win?"
"Or soone who really hates you."
Ron didn’t na nas, but he didn’t need to. It was obvious he was talking about Draco and Snape.
Caught up in their back-and-forth, neither Harry nor Ron noticed the conflicted look on Hermione’s face.
Ron’s comnts had brought back fragnts of that day, and Hermione suddenly felt like she needed to ask for their help in piecing things together.
But just as she opened her mouth to speak, Seamus Finnigan wandered over and called out to them.
"Harry, you should really think about getting a new broomstick. If you’re not sure what to pick, I’ve got so ideas."
"Yeah! If you’re not going with another Nimbus 2000, I can recomnd a few other models."
The new broom topic got Ron fired up again—he clearly wasn’t convinced there was anything deeper going on.
anwhile, Hermione watched Harry sitting there, quiet and troubled, not joining the conversation at all. And in that mont, she knew she had to act.
The first thought that flashed through her mind—
Was Draco the one who cursed Harry’s broom?
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