The Snitch, the Lies, and the Forest Guardian
Percy and the others ran quickly down from the stands, heading straight toward Harry with contagious excitement. In the middle of the commotion, Percy saw a floating stretcher pass by with Professor Quirrell on it; he tried not to look too closely, though he felt a sting of guilt as he covered part of his face with his hand, the stretcher drifting just inches away from him. Madam Pomfrey hurried him along while shouting for everyone to move aside.
It seemed the hit from the wooden sword had been quite strong. That sword, in fact, had vanished into a beam of light right after landing the blow.
The look Hermione kept sending him from time to time didn't help at all with the weight of guilt Percy felt for having hit an innocent professor.
After celebrating with Harry, they were all taken to Hagrid's hut. The groundskeeper, overflowing with joy from Harry's first Quidditch win, served each of them tea while he continued celebrating.
"It was Snape," Ron began, explaining to Harry with seriousness.
"Snape?" Harry asked, frowning. After all, more than anyone, he had felt how his broom seemed determined to throw him off at all costs. Fortunately, he had held on tightly enough not to fall.
"Yeah. And Percy threw that sword at him to make him stop staring at you. It worked the moment Snape ducked to avoid it; when he took his eyes off you, the broom stopped losing control," Ron added. "Though, well… he accidentally hit Professor Quirrell."
Harry looked at his brother calmly but clearly expecting an explanation. "You hit a professor?"
"What? Of course not. Ron was just seeing illusions," Percy answered quickly, avoiding Harry's intense stare.
Harry rolled his eyes for a moment, though he ended up smiling as he shook his head.
"Nonsense," Hagrid said, placing a rock cake on the table with complete tranquility. "Why would Snape do something like that? Maybe it was all a misunderstanding."
The five of them exchanged glances, trying to decide what to tell him. It seemed Harry was considering telling him the truth directly.
"Actually, we think Snape tried to get past Fluffy. On Halloween. That's why he got bitten," Harry said openly. "And he's trying to steal what you said only concerns Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."
Hagrid instantly raised his hand to his lips, glancing toward the windows as if afraid someone else might hear.
"I told you not to keep digging into that," he muttered quickly. He had already slipped Flamel's name once and deeply regretted it. He assumed the kids hadn't paid much attention because, technically, it didn't concern them.
And it was true; none of them had shown any real interest in Flamel… until Snape began to look like a real suspect. Then they all suddenly became very eager to find him guilty.
"Stop dancing around the subject. Snape is one of the professors helping to protect… that," Hagrid said, sounding nervous. "So don't get yourselves involved in something that has nothing to do with you. Maybe something else happened with the broom for you to be suspecting a professor."
"Hagrid, I read about curses, and Snape wouldn't take his eyes off Harry while muttering," Hermione said quickly.
"Alright, alright, that's enough. Just don't get into trouble. And remember Snape is a Hogwarts professor; he would never harm a student," Hagrid insisted, trying to end the conversation once and for all.
But when he saw their faces—clearly unwilling to drop the matter—he quickly tried to change the subject. "Ah, right. And tell that friend of yours… Grover, was it? To stay away from the Forbidden Forest. I had to chase him out this morning; it's a dangerous place for students."
That immediately caught Percy's attention; he had been pretending to be distracted to avoid returning to the topic of the professor he'd hit.
"This morning?" Percy asked with a serious look.
"Yeah. I don't know what that lad is up to, but he's going to get himself into trouble if he keeps it up," Hagrid replied, feeling satisfied for having successfully changed the subject.
But he hadn't changed anything; he had simply reminded them there was another suspect to keep an eye on.
With so many emotions packed into a single day, Harry felt it was best to return to the common room. He gently pulled Percy along, who walked in a distracted daze, clearly lost in his thoughts.
Harry watched his brother from the corner of his eye, noticing the worry in his expression.
"Percy, maybe we're mistaken and Grover isn't…," Harry began, but couldn't finish. Grover was suspicious; he couldn't deny it. Giving Percy false hope, only for it to break later, was pointless—especially if it could put Percy in danger. "Just stop thinking about it. It's not like you," Harry finally said.
Percy glanced at him for a second, recognizing the disguised insult, but letting it slide. Today was a happy day; Harry had won his first match, and they had to tell their mother.
And of course he couldn't have a gloomy face while talking to her.
As they walked through the corridors, several Gryffindors and students from other houses congratulated Harry, cheering him on. Except, naturally, the Slytherins, who glared at him with obvious hatred.
Harry and Percy, however, were too focused on rushing to share the good news with their mother to worry about anything else.
When they reached the Gryffindor common room, the players were still celebrating. They even invited Harry to take the seat of honor, but he rejected the offer instantly; he wanted to talk to his mother first.
Some joked that Harry was a mama's boy, but after hearing it so many times from his own brother—and saying the same back to him—Harry was already used to it and ignored them effortlessly.
Inside the shared dormitory, both sat on Harry's bed. He held the two-way mirror in his hands, waiting to contact their mother and Aunt Mor.
She answered quickly. Her image appeared on the mirror's surface: Sally was clearly at work. Behind her was Mark's workshop, with a boiler letting out smoke and, for some reason, a cage full of woodlice. Mark didn't seem to be nearby.
Sally had obviously been waiting; the instant she saw her sons' faces, a huge smile lit up her expression. She immediately asked, excited, "How was it, Harry? How was it?"
Of course Sally knew that Harry would be playing today, and she deeply regretted not being there to record it. Harry had asked for her permission; although Sally hesitated for a moment upon learning what quidditch was and that he would have to fly at a dangerously high altitude in a very fast-paced sport, she decided to trust that the school must have enough safety measures to protect its students.
It could only be said that Harry was lucky his mother hadn't witnessed the "safety" of the match. If she had seen what really happened, she probably would have pulled Harry out of the team so fast he wouldn't have even had time to catch the snitch.
"We won," Harry said proudly. "I caught the snitch."
Sally let out a squeal of joy, showering Harry with compliments.
"I'm really happy that you're having fun. Although at first I doubted sending you to that school, it seems it really is the right place for you both," Sally said, releasing a sigh that seemed to have been stored since the day she said goodbye to them at the platform. Knowing that both boys had friends, were studying, working hard, and even enjoying themselves… was an enormous relief. "In the end, we worried for nothing; it wasn't unsafe at all," she added.
Harry and Percy both made the same strange expression at the same time. Unfortunately for them, their mother knew her sons far too well.
"Did something happen?" Sally asked, staring at them with those fixed eyes that signaled danger. She narrowed her gaze into that flat expression that very clearly meant "you're not fooling me."
"No. Of course not, Mom," said Percy quickly, while Harry shook his head with exaggerated vigor.
"What happened?" Sally insisted, not breaking eye contact.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Percy repeated, glancing at Harry for help. But Harry, the weaker of the two when it came to lying to their mother, betrayed him instantly.
"Percy hit a professor," he blurted out quickly.
Percy's eyes widened as he looked at his traitor of a brother. He could feel his mother's stare through the mirror, though he refused entirely to look at her face.
"Well, Mom, it has an explanation. One of the professors was controlling Harry's broom, trying to make him fall, so I…" Percy tried to continue, but Sally cut him off.
"What? They wanted to knock Harry off his broom?" she asked, now truly worried.
It was Harry's turn to get nervous; if this continued, he would be kicked off the quidditch team in a second.
"Yes, but I'm fine. I didn't let go at any moment. It was even less dangerous than when we faced the cerberus," he added—and immediately realized, horrified, that he had said that out loud.
"Cerberus?" Sally shouted, standing up abruptly. Her yell attracted the attention of the knights outside; within seconds, Gema entered with a confused expression.
"Sally, is something wrong?" she asked, while Luther peeked in from behind her.
Both saw the mirror, where Harry and Percy were connected; they approached with smiles.
"Hey, kids. I heard Harry had his big match today… what was it called again?" Luther asked cheerfully.
"Quidditch," Gema said while waving at them.
"Oh, right. We won. I caught the snitch," Harry said, though he kept glancing nervously at his mother, who looked on the verge of abandoning her job and appearing at Hogwarts immediately.
Gema noticed the tension instantly.
"What happened?" she asked the boys.
"Well… Harry was in danger for a moment, and I hit a professor to save him. But he's fine now. And by accident Harry told her that a giant cerberus almost ate us. And Mom is probably realizing the school isn't as safe as she thought. Especially because we defeated a huge troll on Halloween," Percy explained, far too honestly. Harry tried to cover his mouth immediately, but it was too late.
"Idiot," Harry muttered toward Percy, who instantly understood he had revealed the troll incident.
"What?" Sally shouted upon hearing about the troll, her attempt to stay calm collapsing. She leaned closer to the mirror with a serious expression, as if about to announce she would go get them and pull them out of that dangerous school immediately.
"Well, look at the time… that's too bad, but we have to go now. We have curfew and we need to sleep on time. So… Mom, we'll call you later… please, please don't come to the school to get us. We'll call you later, but please don't come," Percy said quickly, almost begging at the end, terrified that their mother might actually show up at Hogwarts to take them home. He lowered the mirror and hid it under the pillow before she could answer.
Harry and Percy stared at each other silently for a few seconds.
"You're an idiot," Percy said.
"Me? You're the idiot," Harry replied.
Then the two of them began to argue, blaming each other for worrying their mother. Although, if they were honest, both were at fault. Or well… perhaps the school was, for not being as safe as it was supposed to be.
…
Meanwhile, in the Forbidden Forest, Grover moved with extreme caution, eyes scanning the surroundings with nerves on edge. Every snap of a twig, every leaf shifting in the wind, made him flinch slightly. Despite his experience in forests, this place was different. It wasn't just dark; it was ancient, heavy, as if it held secrets that preferred to remain hidden.
More than once he had encountered unfriendly creatures, even for him. Enormous spiders, shapeless moving shadows, beasts that seemed familiar yet not quite. As if they were imperfect imitations of the creatures from his own world. It confused him… and frightened him more than he would admit.
He finally reached his destination. There, between two twisted oaks, a centaur stood waiting patiently under the pale moonlight.
"Sir, he's here," Grover said, letting out a breath of relief at not having to face another one of those giant spiders.
"Grover, were you able to discover anything?" the centaur asked with a serious look—the kind of look from someone who could see far beyond the visible.
"Actually… I'm not sure if either of them is," Grover began, hesitating. "Or rather… the magic here is so normal that it's impossible to distinguish anything. It's weird. They can literally summon magic by moving those sticks; it's not like the Mist, but it's similar. This whole place is so strange… And the two kids we thought might be demigods also seem like part of them. Although I noticed they can control the Mist, unlike the others. But even that stops being strange in a place like this."
He spoke quickly, heart pounding with fear of failing his mission.
"Calm down, Grover," the centaur said softly, trying to reassure him. "I can tell this place is far more special than we thought. Much more. Maybe we should begin watching these so-called wizards a little more closely. Their powers surpass those of many demigods. But right now, the important thing is confirming whether those two boys really are what we suspect."
"What do you want me to do?" Grover asked, his tone worried and guilty. He didn't like lying to Percy; he saw him as a friend—someone genuinely good.
"For now, protect them. Observe them. If they truly are demigods and need to go to camp, we'll take them," the centaur replied, turning to leave. But he paused for a moment. "Ah… and Grover, try not to come here for a while. The guardian of this forest is upset with our presence. Very upset. And it doesn't seem friendly at all."
Grover swallowed hard. "O-okay," he said before turning around and running back toward the castle, avoiding looking to the sides for fear of seeing something follow him.
The centaur, however, remained for a moment longer, staring into the distance. From his position he could see the silhouette of the castle shining between the trees—imposing, mysterious… and powerful.
"This place is truly astonishing," he murmured to himself. "Is this what the Goddess of Magic created without the other gods noticing?"
His voice carried a unique mixture of respect, fear, and fascination.
Then, without saying anything else, he walked off in a nearby direction, moving with firm steps among the trees that seemed to whisper around him.