That afternoon, Edward joined Malfoy, Daphne, and Pansy to visit Llamrei, as planned. Malfoy initially scoffed at the idea of going to "Hagrid's shack," claiming it was beneath him. But when he heard Daphne and Pansy were going and he'd be the only one left behind, he quickly changed his tune and tagged along.
Unfortunately for Malfoy, when he tried to hop on Llamrei to show off, the unicorn flat-out refused, leaving him stomping in frustration.
Hagrid explained, "Adult unicorns tend to be wary of male humans. Last night was a special case."
"Then why's Edward fine? Look at her fawning over him! She's practically burying her head in his robes!" Malfoy fumed.
"Just wait. When I go home for the holidays, I'll make sure my dad gets a unicorn just for the Malfoy estate!" he declared.
Daphne, on the other hand, was more concerned about Llamrei's injury. Seeing the unicorn so lively now put her at ease. Pansy, meanwhile, was fixated on Llamrei's gorgeous form, constantly tempted to pluck a few mane hairs. Rumor had it unicorn hair worked wonders in beauty potions.
A few days later, Llamrei's wounds had fully healed, and she was spending most of her time back in the Forbidden Forest. The students, meanwhile, had a new focus.
The first Quidditch match after the Christmas holidays was coming up: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff.
The kicker? Professor Snape was refereeing.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team—and the entire house—was feeling pretty hopeless. If Gryffindor won this match, they'd beat Slytherin in the Quidditch Cup for the first time in seven years.
It should've been a hopeful battle.
But the problem was Snape.
The Weasley twins tried spreading rumors, like "Snape's out for revenge" or "Snape's bitter about not getting the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, so he's taking it out on Quidditch." But it didn't gain much traction.
Outside Gryffindor, no one backed them. Hufflepuff was secretly thrilled, knowing Snape and Gryffindor—especially Harry Potter—were like oil and water. Even the kindest Hufflepuffs couldn't help but feel a bit smug.
Ravenclaw stayed neutral, claiming "rumors stop with the wise." Not because they were above it, but because if Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor next, they could snag the Quidditch Cup. That would give them a shot at challenging Slytherin for the House Cup, since Quidditch points were hefty.
Theoretically, anyway. Everyone could see Slytherin's emerald hourglass in the Great Hall was miles ahead—leading Ravenclaw by at least 150 points. Even with a 100-point Quidditch win, Ravenclaw would still be 50 points short.
Slytherin's feelings were mixed. Emotionally, they didn't want Gryffindor to win—old rivals, after all, especially after losing to them earlier. But strategically, a Hufflepuff win could give Ravenclaw a chance to catch up.
That was just the average student's take, though.
Edward didn't care who won, as long as both teams played fair and put on a good show. He figured this match would be more exciting than the last dueling competition. Word was Hufflepuff's Seeker, Cedric Diggory, a handsome third-year, was a real talent. He'd been the talk of Hogwarts until this term, when, for some reason, the buzz around him died down.
Still, Edward was more focused on Harry's broom and other potential foul play. Could someone curse the Golden Snitch to explode the moment Harry grabbed it, taking him and his broom out?
"Nice weather, isn't it, Mr. Edward? I bet today's match will be thrilling—and fair, don't you think?" a voice called out.
Edward turned to see Professor Dumbledore, smiling broadly, as he headed to the staff stands.
"Professor, sorry, I didn't see you," Edward said.
"No worries. I don't always want to be seen," Dumbledore replied, adjusting his half-moon glasses before strolling off.
"Time for new glasses, don't you think?" Daphne said, squeezing in beside Edward. She glanced at the cloudy sky and distant lightning. She'd clearly overheard Dumbledore's "nice weather" and "fair match" comments.
"If that storm rolls in, I bet Dumbledore could make it vanish in a second. But yeah, his glasses could use an upgrade," Edward chuckled.
He didn't expect a fair match either. Snape's grudge against Harry and Gryffindor wasn't going away anytime soon. Though, to be fair, Snape had been restraining himself lately—no random point deductions in Potions class, except when Neville messed up.
Ang.
Still, Edward felt oddly relaxed. With Snape refereeing and Dumbledore watching from the stands, who'd dare tamper with the match? Not even Voldemort himself would try it.
But the match went faster than Edward expected.
Before Snape could throw his weight around—or blatantly favor Hufflepuff—Harry dove to the ground, snatching the Golden Snitch right under Snape's nose.
And, thankfully, the Snitch didn't explode.
"What a boring match," Malfoy grumbled beside Edward. "I bet Potter put some kind of tracking charm on the Snitch. How else could he beat Cedric that fast?"
"Draco, I'm rooting for you to join the house team next year as Seeker. Give Potter a real thrashing!" Pansy chimed in.
"Potter's nothing," Malfoy scoffed.
Edward could tell Pansy wasn't really hyping Malfoy up—she was just stirring the pot for fun. Her mischievous streak was no secret.
Instead of heading back to the Slytherin common room, Edward decided to exercise and mull over his teaching plans. His lessons with Daphne, Malfoy, and Pansy had been on hold for a while. The secret passage they'd used wasn't safe anymore—who knew if that guy would use it again or snoop around? Other passages weren't secure either. They needed a new spot.
Daphne, Malfoy, and Pansy had been scouting for options, but no luck so far. Edward even considered using another drop of Felix Felicis, but that felt too extravagant. The potion was better saved for catching Voldemort at a critical moment.
Lost in thought, Edward found himself near the broom shed. The Gryffindors had carried Harry off in a celebratory mob after the win, leaving his broom behind. They were probably wrapping up by now.
Just then, a figure wobbled through the air toward the shed and landed. Harry, still in his Quidditch robes, looked shocked and confused—an expression Edward's heightened empathy, boosted by his upgraded Pity's Protection, picked up instantly. He could sense what young wizards were feeling and even predict their reactions.
Harry had flown back from the Forbidden Forest. What had he seen?
"Great match, Harry. Congrats!" Edward said, approaching warmly.
"Oh! Edward!" Harry snapped out of his daze, nearly dropping his Nimbus 2000. "Sorry, I didn't expect to see you here."
"Not celebrating with your mates? What happened?" Edward asked, eyeing Harry's Quidditch gear.
Harry grabbed Edward's robe like he'd found a lifeline, panting, "Edward, I've got to tell you something!"
"You've got it wrong—it's Snape! I saw him!"
"What do you mean, Harry?" Edward asked, skeptical.
Harry swallowed hard and rushed on. "I saw Snape and Quirrell in the forest just now. Snape was asking Quirrell if he knew how to get past Fluffy—Hagrid's three-headed dog!"
"Quirrell was all nervous, but it looked like he was about to give in!"
"It's the Philosopher's Stone! Hermione told us your guesses about Nicolas Flamel were right!"
"And Snape mentioned some 'secret tricks.' I bet there are other protections around the Stone, including Quirrell's, and Snape needs to undo them all to get it!"
"It's definitely Snape, I'm sure of it!"
Harry spilled everything like a Bludger on a rampage, barely noticing if Edward was keeping up.