Harry Potter: The Forgotten Chronicles-Book 1

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The morning of his first Quidditch match, Harry stared at his breakfast with a queasy feeling in his stomach. His nerves were getting the best of him, and the usual excitement was overshadowed by a gnawing sense of anxiety.

"You've got to eat something," Ron said, nudging Harry's plate with a worried expression.

"Ron's right, you'll need your strength," Hermione added, her concern evident as she glanced at Harry.

"Don't know, he looks a bit green, don't you think?" Evelyn joked lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Hermione shot her a knowing glare, clearly not amused by the humor.

"I'm not hungry," Harry said with a shrug, pushing the food away.

As if on cue, Professor Snape strode over to their table. His dark robes billowed with an intimidating presence, and he loomed over them, his eyes fixed sharply on Harry.

"That explains the blood..." Harry murmured once Snape was out of earshot.

"What blood?" Evelyn asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Listen," Harry said, leaning in closer. "The night the troll got out, there was blood on the floor in the dungeon. My guess is that Snape let the troll loose as a distraction so he could try to get past that three-headed dog. He must have been scratched while trying to get through."

"Wait..." Hermione interrupted, her brow furrowing in thought. "We're forgetting one thing. Snape's a teacher. Why would he go after whatever that dog is guarding?"

"Whatever it is, it must be important," Ron concluded, his eyes narrowing with concern.

The group fell into thoughtful silence, each considering the implications of Harry's theory. Just then, a white owl swooped into the Great Hall, drawing everyone's attention.

"Bit early for mail, isn't it?" Hermione remarked, her eyes tracking the bird's flight.

"It's Hedwig," Harry said with a smile, recognizing his snowy owl. Hedwig gracefully descended, clutching a long, thin package in her talons. As she landed, Harry slipped her a piece of his uneaten toast in thanks.

He eagerly unwrapped the package, revealing a sleek, mahogany broomstick. His eyes widened in amazement.

"A broomstick?" Harry said, puzzled and intrigued.

"That's not just any broomstick, Harry," Ron said, practically bouncing with excitement. "That's a Nimbus Two Thousand!"

The entire table buzzed with excitement and curiosity. Harry looked up, scanning the room to see if anyone had witnessed the arrival. His gaze met Professor McGonagall's from across the hall. She turned away quickly, but not before a subtle, knowing smile crossed her face.

Harry's face lit up with realization. The Nimbus Two Thousand was renowned for its speed and maneuverability, a gift that would surely make a huge difference in his first Quidditch match.

"Looks like you've got a bit of an advantage now," Evelyn said with a grin.

Evelyn, Ron, and Hermione made their way down to the Quidditch pitch, the crisp autumn air carrying the faint smell of freshly cut grass. Evelyn, decked out in her green and silver Slytherin sweater, felt a bit out of place among the sea of red and gold Gryffindor supporters. The stands were packed, and the atmosphere crackled with excitement as the students settled in for the match.

As the players took their positions, Evelyn could feel the tension building. Madame Hooch, the Quidditch referee, stood at the center of the pitch, her sharp eyes scanning the field. With a swift flick of her wrist, she released the Quaffle into the air. The game was on.