Chapter 26
Gabin slipped his wand back into his sleeve.
Ron and Neville stood gaping beside him.
"Gabin, that was brilliant," Ron burst out. "Absolutely brilliant!"
Neville was staring at Gabin with wide-eyed admiration, cheeks flushed with excitement.
Gabin merely shrugged.
Malfoy had been a good deal lighter than a full-grown mountain troll.
At that moment a roar erupted from the stands. Students leapt to their feet, cheering wildly and pointing toward the pitch.
Only then did Ron and Neville remember where they were. They spun round, hearts in their mouths, and looked toward the Quidditch field.
The players on both sides had frozen in mid-air.
In the very centre of the pitch, Harry sat astride his broom, head tilted back, one arm raised triumphantly.
The Snitch glittered between his tightly closed fingers.
One hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor — and the match won.
"Harry! Look — Harry's got it! Harry's caught the Snitch! Gryffindor's won!" Ron's voice rose to an ecstatic shout. He grabbed Neville by the shoulder and shook him. "Gryffindor's won!"
The deafening roar rolled across the entire stadium. Gabin pressed both hands over his ears.
*Definitely not used to this,* he thought wryly.
In the Gryffindor changing room later, Harry rubbed his forehead in exasperation.
"So let me get this straight," he said. "None of you were actually watching Snape — and none of you even saw me catch the Snitch?"
"Harry, you can't blame us," Ron protested. "Malfoy came over and started mouthing off. You've no idea the rubbish he was saying."
"Luckily Gabin sorted him out," Hermione added. "Though it was a bit… dramatic. For a second I really thought he might actually hurt Malfoy."
"Not dramatic enough, if you ask me," Ron said cheerfully. "Should've kept him floating till he missed the next week of lessons. We'd have had some peace at last."
He turned to Harry, eyes shining. "You should've seen it, mate. One flick of Gabin's wand and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all dangling in the air like balloons. Brilliant!"
"Silent casting," Hermione corrected quietly.
"Yeah — silent casting! Malfoy didn't even have time to blink, let alone dodge." Ron tried to imitate the casual flick Gabin had used, but the gesture looked awkward and unconvincing on him.
"Enough," Hermione said firmly, cutting Ron off before he could get properly carried away. "We don't want Snape docking points from Gabin for 'assaulting a fellow student' or some such nonsense."
Ron clapped a hand over his own mouth and glanced around nervously, as though Snape might materialise from the shadows at any moment.
They all knew perfectly well that Snape was quite capable of it.
"Let's talk about what actually matters," Hermione said, steering them back on track. She looked at Harry. "During the match — did Snape try anything? Did you notice any funny business?"
Ron leaned in, suddenly serious. Harry himself looked unharmed, if a little windswept.
"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "Actually… Snape barely refereed at all. He spent the whole match watching Dumbledore. I think he was afraid of getting caught."
"Dumbledore?" Ron frowned. "Dumbledore was watching the match?"
"Yes — and Professor Quirrell was right beside him," Harry added.
Hermione's eyes widened as the pieces clicked into place. "That explains it. If Snape had tried anything obvious, Dumbledore would have noticed immediately."
"Which means," she finished glumly, "we've lost another chance to prove to Gabin that Snape's up to no good."
"If Gabin doesn't see it with his own eyes, he won't believe it," Ron muttered. "Snape's always been decent to him. Remember that expensive potion he gave Gabin last term?"
"If you managed to brew a perfect Draught of Peace or a flawless Shrinking Solution in Potions, Snape might be decent to you too," Hermione pointed out dryly.
Ron shuddered. "Not a chance. I still can't tell the difference between aconite and wolfsbane, never mind remember all the stirring patterns. I'd go bald trying."
"Then we'll handle it ourselves," Harry said quietly. "Gabin's our friend. We can't keep dragging him into this. Today was already too much."
He had noticed the enormous floating sign — **GRYFFINDOR!!!** — and the boy standing beneath it, wand raised to keep the letters blazing.
The sight had made Harry's stomach twist with guilt. He shouldn't have asked Gabin to come and watch.
Harry could cheer with the crowd. He could shout and laugh and feel the roar of the stadium wrap around him like a warm cloak.
For Gabin, the same stadium must have felt like an empty forest — no one to share the excitement with, no common language of joy. Just noise and isolation.
Harry felt a pang just thinking about it.
"I agree," Hermione said softly. "This isn't really Gabin's fight. We shouldn't keep pulling him in."
Ron sighed. "Fine. If that's how you both feel… then it's just the three of us. We'll protect the Stone ourselves."
He still thought — privately — that having Gabin along would have made short work of Snape. But he didn't say it aloud.
The three of them talked for a while longer but reached no real plan.
Short of telling another professor — which no one would believe, not when the suspect was a member of staff and the accusers were first-years — there was little they could do.
In the end they could only agree to stay alert and wait for Snape to slip up again, the way he had during the last match when Hermione and Ron had seen him muttering a curse at Harry's broom.
Harry never expected the slip to come quite so soon.
An hour later, the three of them left the changing rooms. Ron and Hermione headed back to the Gryffindor common room; Harry, broom over his shoulder, set off toward the broomshed to return his Nimbus Two Thousand.
As he walked, his mind churned — Snape, the third-floor corridor, the three-headed dog named Fluffy.
What else might be guarding the Stone? Was Fluffy the only obstacle?
Then, as he neared the castle's main entrance, he caught sight of a hooded figure moving swiftly down the front steps and hurrying toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry recognised the walk at once — that stiff, impatient stride. He'd seen it in nightmares often enough: one step after another, closing in.
Snape.
Without a second thought, Harry swung his leg over the Nimbus and kicked off into the air, following the dark figure toward the trees.
***
Tl/N : Want to read more of this [+20 Chapter ] and support me, join me on patreon.com/WeirdSensei