Harry's broom suddenly began to wobble. Holding his breath as he reached for the Golden Snitch, he nearly slipped and was almost thrown off.
The crowd erupted in panic. All eyes were fixed on Harry, who clung desperately to his broom.
"By Merlin's beard! What's going on?" Ernie shouted.
"Harry Potter's broom looks like it's gone haywire!" Justin yelled.
Except for the Slytherins, everyone in the stands was on edge. Leonard felt Padma's small hand tighten instinctively around his arm.
He gazed up at Harry thoughtfully, admiring his grip strength—clearly pull-up test material—while a faint silver light flickered in his eyes.
In his magical sight, the once-stable broom was now rippling like water struck by a stone. The magical disturbance distorted its flow, making the broom reject Harry's control and even try to buck him off.
In truth, Quirrell had intended exactly that—to create chaos, or at least draw Dumbledore's attention to Harry Potter, giving himself a chance to act. But for some reason, his magic was being interfered with. The broom that should have easily tossed Harry off was now frozen in midair.
What was going on?
Snape stared intently at Harry, his lips twitching as he muttered under his breath, trying to stabilize the out-of-control broom. But no matter what he did, it wouldn't respond.
Someone had tampered with that broom—it had to be Quirrell. Snape wanted nothing more than to turn and scold him on the spot, but he didn't dare loosen his focus. If he did, Harry could fall any second.
Defending was always harder than attacking, and since Snape had only realized the interference after it began, he was already at a disadvantage against Quirrell. The standoff held. Normally, Hermione would notice Snape's behavior and set his robes on fire to break the deadlock.
But before any of that happened, Leonard, watching from the sidelines, caught something interesting.
"Using a Confundus Charm to disrupt the broom's magic flow... that would make it go out of control..." he thought, tracing the logic in his mind before turning his gaze to the Slytherin Seeker still chasing the Golden Snitch.
Pathetic. Even with Harry stuck like that, he still couldn't catch it.
If he's that useless, he shouldn't be playing Quidditch.
Leonard's eyes locked on the Slytherin Seeker's broom. Slipping a hand beneath his robes, he gripped his wand.
The broom's magical flow abruptly shifted. The Slytherin Seeker stared in terror as his broom refused to obey his commands.
Through his magical vision and with the aid of his wand, Leonard seized control of the broom, forcing it to move according to his will.
It felt like hijacking a computer-controlled aircraft—the throttle and brakes all his to command. The broom's flight followed his every thought, and the rider's fate was now entirely in his hands.
If Leonard so desired, he could even disable the flying broom's propulsion, sending Slytherin's Seeker into free fall.
The panicked screams of the Slytherin Seeker echoed through the air, startling Snape and Quirrell, who had been locked in a tense standoff. Before they could react, the Seeker, face twisted with terror, clutched his broomstick and hurtled straight toward them.
BOOM!
A cloud of dust billowed as Snape and Quirrell were engulfed, and Harry's broom finally returned to normal.
Still bewildered, Harry hadn't grasped what had happened. While the other Slytherin players stood dumbfounded, wondering how their Seeker had suddenly perished, Harry once again spotted the Golden Snitch.
Without a Seeker, Slytherin was already at a disadvantage. Before they could even attempt to crush Gryffindor with a lopsided score, Harry had already caught the Snitch.
The match concluded amidst cheers of justice triumphing over evil.
Meanwhile, Quirrell and Snape were carried off on stretchers by nearby spectators to the hospital wing. Lying there, their miserable aura stood in stark contrast to the jubilant atmosphere around them.
...
"So, Leonard? Have you fallen in love with Quidditch yet?" Ernie asked proudly on the way back to the castle from the pitch.
"Yeah, this match was pretty exciting. You think so too, Leonard?" Justin said.
"No, quite the opposite. I think Quidditch is a truly pointless sport," Leonard said, squinting.
Setting aside how ridiculous the sport itself was, the fact that one player losing their ability could completely collapse a team made the whole thing rather dull to watch. What's more, the thought that a flying broomstick—a mode of transportation—could be so easily influenced and manipulated made Leonard feel riding one was downright unsafe.
Thanks to this match, Leonard not only had no desire to watch Quidditch again, but he didn't even want to ride a broomstick anymore. Still, studying it was another matter.
Leonard planned to buy a flying broomstick and study it using magical vision. Perhaps he could even develop a flying spell.
"But what happened to Slytherin's Seeker? He suddenly lost control—worse than Harry Potter's incident," Justin sighed. "I heard Snape's hand was broken in the collision."
Snape's injury had certainly drawn a crowd. Though they wouldn't dare mock him to his face, they certainly discussed it behind his back.
"That good?" Leonard blurted out instinctively, only to immediately realize his slip from the complicated expressions on Ernie and Justin's faces. He quickly corrected himself, "I mean, that bad?"
"Pretty bad, but we're worse off. Snape will definitely take it out on us in class," Ernie sighed.
Given Snape's petty nature, that was entirely possible.
"Leonard, you and Padma should be careful. Snape might single you out in Potions," Ernie warned.
"No worries, I'm not scared. Leonard will handle every single one of Snape's challenges," Padma said confidently beside Leonard.
"It's true. Leonard never seems to make a mistake in Potions," Justin remarked enviously. "How do you do it?"
"Just brew a few more potions and you'll get the hang of it," Leonard shrugged.
He couldn't exactly say he figured out how to brew potions just by watching, could he? That would sound way too cocky.