Though Leonard wasn't much of a Quidditch fan, the Chosen One's debut match was something he couldn't skip—if only to see it for himself.
After all, it was the match that nearly cost Harry Potter his life.
Alright, that might be a bit dramatic. Even without Snape's intervention, Dumbledore would've stepped in at the critical moment if Harry had actually fallen under Quirrell's interference.
Still, Leonard couldn't resist the thought of seeing Harry's panicked expression.
He also wanted to confirm something: if both were casting wandless spells, why could Quirrell manage it with just the slightest twitch of his lips, while the "esteemed" Professor Snape had to exaggerate his mouth movements like he was terrified no one would notice him casting?
Surely Quirrell, of all people, wasn't stronger than Snape.
"You actually agreed to go?" Susan stared at Leonard in disbelief. "We even made a bet that you wouldn't show up for a Quidditch match."
"Going once in a while isn't so bad," Leonard said casually. "But this will probably be my only one. Mostly, I just need to explain things to Padma."
If not for the worry that constantly skipping plans would hurt his budding relationship with Padma—the little Indian witch—Leonard wouldn't have gone at all.
"Then I win!" Susan said gleefully, shooting a grin at Hannah, whose face turned pale.
"You two were betting? On what?" Leonard asked curiously.
"Something scandalous... Hannah, don't run!" Susan laughed and chased after her, giggling all the way out.
"They're really close," Ernie said as he and Justin walked over, each holding a bag of cookies. "Come on, Leonard. Since you're going anyway, why not bring Padma to sit with us?"
"Wouldn't that be awkward? She might feel uncomfortable," Leonard said hesitantly.
"Who cares? It's Gryffindor versus Slytherin—everyone's cheering for Gryffindor anyway. Sitting anywhere makes no difference."
He wasn't wrong.
Ernie's casual remark perfectly summed up Slytherin's reputation at Hogwarts.
In short, they were everyone's enemy.
And that situation was inseparable from their "wonderful" Head of House, Professor Snape.
No one liked someone who shielded his students without reason. You protect your own; we despise you for it.
Leonard found that logic perfectly reasonable. He didn't think there was anything wrong with Ernie treating Slytherin as the school's common enemy.
After all, from the professors to the students, they all had the same attitude.
With that thought, the idea of watching Slytherin's faces twist after a loss suddenly seemed very entertaining.
The notion alone lifted Leonard's mood completely—no more frustration about being dragged into something he hadn't wanted to do.
The group left the Hufflepuff common room together and found Padma waiting by the entrance. She didn't look the least bit impatient, which only made Ernie sigh even harder.
"What's with Ernie?" Leonard asked, glancing at him.
"He apparently asked out a Gryffindor girl," Justin said, barely suppressing a grin. "She turned him down flat. He waited outside their common room, and she didn't even look at him."
"I heard that!" Ernie shouted, scowling.
"Sorry, I just thought Leonard should know," Justin replied innocently, showing not the slightest embarrassment at being caught. He grinned wide.
"Hmph! You're not doing any better," Ernie retorted. "I bet I'll get a girlfriend before you do!"
"Not likely," Justin said proudly. "Face it, I've got the looks advantage."
"Damn it!" Ernie's exasperated expression was so over-the-top it made Padma laugh.
The group left the castle, chatting and laughing as they ran toward the Quidditch pitch.
...
"Albus, it's time to head to the Quidditch pitch. I believe the students are quite eager to see you there," Professor McGonagall said as she entered the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore lifted his head at the sound of her voice, as though waking from a deep reverie. "Ah, Minerva. It's you."
"Has something happened? You don't look well." McGonagall's expression was serious as she stepped closer. "Is it about Mr. Malfoy?"
"No... not exactly. It won't affect us much. I'm just... feeling a bit reflective," Dumbledore said with a sigh, removing his half-moon spectacles.
"What's going on?" McGonagall's concern deepened. It had been a long time since she'd seen that expression on his face—the last time was when he discovered that Tom Riddle had become Lord Voldemort.
She noticed the letter in his hand, but out of respect, she didn't lean forward to read it. If it were something she needed to know, Dumbledore would tell her himself.
After decades of working together, that much trust was implicit.
"Take a look for yourself," Dumbledore said, passing her the letter. "It's from Remus."
"Remus?" McGonagall blinked, caught off guard. "I haven't heard that name in years."
...
She lowered her head and began reading the letter carefully. The more she read, the more her face tightened in alarm.
Unprecedented unity among the werewolves.
A rapid rise in their collective power.
A mysterious legend spreading among them...
Compared to all this, the mention of the Dark Lord's return almost seemed trivial. After all, they had long been preparing for Voldemort's eventual comeback.
But something about the werewolves felt deeply wrong.
McGonagall's gaze lingered on one particular section of the letter—the legend that had taken hold among the werewolf packs.
It claimed that their current leader, Midgard Greyback, possessed a way to completely lift the werewolf curse. Only the most loyal pioneers of the werewolf kind would be deemed worthy to receive this blessing.
The revelation hit her like a bombshell.
"Albus... what on earth is going on with the werewolves?" McGonagall asked, her voice trembling with shock.
"No, Minerva," Dumbledore said gravely, "the real issue isn't the werewolves—it's the message about Tom's resurrection."
"But haven't we suspected that for some time already?" McGonagall asked, frowning. "Right now, the werewolves' situation seems far more dangerous."
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Ah, Minerva... I've underestimated the power born from hatred."
"Hatred?" McGonagall froze for a brief moment, then her eyes widened in realization. "You mean... this message came from Lucius Malfoy?"
"That's right," Dumbledore said quietly. "It seems he's already begun preparing for something."