𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓷 𝓞𝓷𝓮

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐀 𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬

AS NOVEMBER CAME around, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning, the ground was covered in frost.

Hagrid could be seen, from the upstairs windows, defrosting the many broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Chloe would be playing in her first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

If Gryffindor managed to win, they would move up into second place in the house championship.

Hardly anybody had seen Chloe play because Wood had wisely decided that, as their secret weapon, Chloe should be kept, well, secret.

But the news that Chloe was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and the Potter girl couldn't tell which was worse - people telling her she'd be brilliant or people telling her they'd be running around underneath her holding a mattress.

Chloe was glad to have Hermione as a friend. She didn't know how she'd have gotten through all her homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood planned.

Hermione also lent Chloe what turned out to be a very interesting read - Quidditch Through the Ages.

From the book, Chloe learned there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and the fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking the rules since Chloe and Ron had saved her from the troll, and she was much nicer for it.

Daniel Page, the auburn-haired boy who could relate to Hermione's reluctance to go against the rules, was understandably surprised by Hermione's change of heart. "Keep it up, and you'll become Filch's VIP." He had told her, Chloe and Ron.

It was breakfast, on the morning of Chloe's Quidditch match, when the Golden Trio, Chloe, Hermione and Ron, sat amongst the other Gryffindor first-years at their table. Whilst Ron was feeling hungry, like always, his best friend wasn't.

"Take a bit of toast, mate, go on," said Ron, to Chloe. She shook her head, in response. She had gotten used to the traditional British slang term Ron often referred to her as, and had come to love it since she was delighted to be assured that Ron considered her his best friend. That still wasn't enough to encourage her to eat, unfortunately.

"Chloe, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan, who looked at Chloe. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

Chloe nodded, with a friendly smile. "Thanks, Seamus, but I'm not very hungry." She replied, as she watched Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

But then, a shadow was seen, all of a sudden, over their table. The Potter girl hesitantly turned around to see Professor Snape stood behind them.

"Good luck today, Potter. Then again, now that you've proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you. Even if it is against Slytherin," said Snape, who then walked away from the Gryffindor table. He limped slightly.

"That explains the blood," murmured Chloe, thoughtfully. "Blood?" Hermione questioned.

Chloe glanced between Hermione and Ron, then said, "Last night, Ron and I saw Professor Snape head up to the third floor. And, in the girls' bathroom, I noticed blood on his leg. What if he went to that three-headed dog? A bite from it would explain why he is also limping."