Chapter 150: Lucius Malfoy's Gift
As November rolled in, the weather turned bitingly cold.
The mountains surrounding Hogwarts were blanketed in gray frost and icy snow. The lake's surface hardened like tempered steel, and every morning, the grass was coated with silver frost. From the windows of the upper floors, one could spot Hagrid wrapped up in a thick moleskin coat, rabbit-fur gloves, and massive beaver-skin boots, defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch.
Quidditch season was clearly about to begin.
Only Alexander Smith knew the full truth of what had occurred recently in the Headmaster's office. And to his surprise, that event had already created ripple effects.
Thanks to his partnership with the wizards of Atlantis, the prices of basic consumable potions had plummeted. The unintended consequence? Quirrell never drank unicorn blood.
Apparently, he'd only resorted to that dark act in the original timeline because he lacked gold Galleons.
Alexander sighed. His original plan had been to catch Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest during the act of harming a unicorn—saving the creature in a blaze of glory and exposing the professor earlier. That way, the attempted theft of the Philosopher's Stone could be accelerated and potentially foiled.
But that plan was now a bust.
Still, at least Harry seemed to be enjoying a rare period of peace. Quirrell—and Voldemort—were lying low for now, meaning Alexander could take a break from shadowing them constantly.
"Let Harry catch his breath for a while," Alexander mused, and returned to his studies.
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Life returned to a calm routine for several days. The only bit of excitement came that Friday.
That morning, Draco Malfoy appeared at the Ravenclaw table—an unusual sight in itself—but what caught everyone's attention was the long, thin parcel wrapped in brown paper in his hands.
"Harry," he said, holding it out, "this is a thank-you gift from my father." Without waiting for a response, Draco turned and walked off, not even staying to eat breakfast with them.
"Open it!" Ron urged, practically vibrating with curiosity.
Harry tore open the package and found a slender black case. In silver letters, the words read: Broomstick Repair Tool Kit.
"Wow," Harry breathed, unzipping it.
Inside were several high-quality maintenance items: a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Gloss Broomstick Polish, a pair of gleaming silver broomstick clippers, a brass compass for long-distance flights, and even a Broomstick Care Manual.
It wasn't an extravagant gift, but it was thoughtful—and Harry had never owned anything so comprehensive for broom care before.
Word of the gift spread quickly.
Some students joked that Lucius Malfoy was sending a dowry for his future daughter-in-law. Others whispered darker rumors—that the toolbox was laced with a Death Eater curse meant to assassinate Harry Potter.
But without The Daily Prophet or Rita Skeeter to fan the flames, the gossip quickly died down.
The focus shifted to Quidditch, especially since Ravenclaw's first match—against Hufflepuff—was coming up on Saturday. If they won, they'd climb to third in the House Cup standings.
Excitement buzzed in the air, and Harry, being the only first-year player on any team, quickly became the center of attention once more.
Some students offered encouragement, while others jokingly suggested they'd camp out below the stadium with mattresses in case he fell off his broom.
---
For the first time, Roger Davies, Ravenclaw's aloof team captain, personally discussed tactics with Harry.
Usually, Roger only cared about his own role as Seeker and treated the other players as afterthoughts. But now, he introduced two actual maneuvers: the Sloth Grip Roll and the Wollongong Shimmy.
The Sloth Grip Roll involved clinging to one's broom like a sloth to avoid Bludgers. The Wollongong Shimmy, normally used by Chasers, was a zigzag flying pattern designed to shake off pursuers—but Roger claimed it would help Harry dodge Bludgers too.
Interestingly, Roger never once mentioned the Keeper during his entire strategy talk, treating that position like it didn't exist.
Ron, after hearing Harry's recap, was livid. "In Gryffindor, we don't waste time with those silly maneuvers. My brother just focuses on the Snitch."
Anthony Goldstein chimed in, suggesting that perhaps Ravenclaw was compensating for weak Beaters. That comment nearly caused a shouting match between Ron and Anthony, until Harry wisely changed the topic by asking, "Wait… who even is our Keeper?"
---
Back in the wider school, speculation once again bubbled about the link between Harry's Quidditch spot and Lucius Malfoy's influence.
Some claimed Harry only became Seeker because the school governor pulled strings for him.
Fortunately, this theory didn't get much traction.
Ravenclaw's team trained mostly indoors, and Harry was a quiet type who rarely wandered the halls, so the fuss faded quickly.
His studies didn't suffer either—despite his training schedule, Harry maintained high marks in all subjects, something Alexander silently credited to his growing magical talent.
The Ravenclaw lounge also hosted a Quidditch symposium on Saturdays, which helped Harry catch up on his theory. He'd grown more focused on spellcraft and research lately, but this gave him a refresher on Quidditch lore.
He learned that:
There are 700 known fouls in Quidditch—and all occurred in a single match at the 1473 World Cup.
Seekers are usually the smallest and fastest players.
Though rare, fatal accidents have occurred during games.
In one case, a referee vanished during a match and was later found months later in the Sahara Desert.
---
The day before the match, Harry and Ron stepped outside during a break between classes. The courtyard was bitterly cold, yet they chose to go out "for fresh air."
Alexander and Hermione, however, stayed inside. Alexander couldn't understand why anyone would voluntarily go out in this weather.
Then again, Harry had found a clever way to stay warm—he conjured a small jar of bright blue flames, which he carried like a magical lantern. Just like Hermione once did in the original timeline.
As they stood warming themselves near the flames, Professor Snape crossed the courtyard, limping slightly.
Alexander, watching through a window, smirked. He summoned a light gust of wind with a flick of his wand.
The breeze lifted Snape's robe just enough to reveal a bloody, raw wound on his upper thigh—clumsily bandaged, but still bleeding through.
The bite from the three-headed dog.
Alexander had long wondered when that injury occurred. In the original book, it seemed to happen before the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. But here, as in the film version, it had taken place on Halloween.
Snape had hidden the injury well—his robes were magically repaired, and he hadn't shown any sign of limping in Potions class. But now, weeks later, the wound had reopened.
And Harry saw it.
His eyes narrowed. He stared at Snape's leg, confused and alert.
Alexander smiled.
This, he thought, is the seed of suspicion.
Maybe now Harry will start investigating what's really happening on the fourth floor…
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