Chapter 60 Whose Murder?

"I heard Merkus say that some magic can even bring life into a state of stasis." Daphne explained the ruins knowledge, leaving both Roger and Hermione somewhat surprised.

"Stasis?" Hermione gasped, "Isn't that immortality?"

"No, no, no!" Daphne shook her head happily, finally knowing something that the Know-It-All Miss Granger did not.

"Life stasis means your life stops flowing. Once the magic is broken, the clock of life simply resumes ticking," Daphne explained to the two of them.

"Since we've found a clue, why not go watch the Quidditch match tomorrow to relax?" Daphne suggested to Roger that there was no need to be in such a hurry. "Besides, 800 years have already passed, so a day earlier or later makes no difference."

"Furthermore, our house is playing against Gryffindor tomorrow. What if our Head of House finds out you're not going?" Daphne's threat proved very effective. Recalling Snape's increasingly volatile temper lately, Roger could only nod and agree to attend the match.

The next day turned out to be fine weather, with professors and students pouring into the high stands of the Quidditch stadium. The banners and railings of the pitch were freshly decorated, half in Slytherin's silver and green, and half in Gryffindor's gold and red.

In the central commentary box, Gryffindor student Lee Jordan introduced the match to everyone: "Today, Gryffindor will face off against Slytherin!"

"Look, Gryffindor has a new Seeker!" Seeing Harry enter the pitch, Lee Jordan cheered, "He is our house's first-year newcomer, Harry Potter!"

Watching Harry soar into the sky, Lee Jordan introduced his broomstick to the crowd. He cried out in astonishment, "Goodness me, it's a Nimbus 2000! This is the latest product from the Nimbus company, with top-tier speed. Slytherin's old brooms will never be able to catch our Harry!"

"Ahem, ahem!" Professor McGonagall coughed twice nearby, signaling Lee Jordan to maintain impartiality in his commentary.

Prompted by Professor McGonagall, Lee Jordan reined himself in slightly, though his commentary still noticeably favored Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor, go! Gryffindor, go!"

...

The cheers for Gryffindor came from the other three houses, quickly drowning out Slytherin's shouts. Roger looked over at the Gryffindor stands, where the banner Hermione had made shone brilliantly in the sunlight, catching the eye instantly.

"The players are in position, and Madam Hooch has entered the pitch! The Golden Snitch has been released; catching it ends the match and awards one hundred and fifty points to the team!"

Seeing Madam Hooch toss the Quaffle into the air, Lee Jordan shouted aloud, "The match has begun!"

"Oh, boy..." Roger ducked quickly upon seeing a young wizard come hurtling toward him.

The Gryffindor players seized the Quaffle first, their figures streaking swiftly across the pitch to launch an attack on Slytherin's goalposts.

"Brilliant!" Lee Jordan cheered, "The one with the Quaffle is our Chaser, Angelina!"

"She dodged Slytherin's double-team and charged right through!" Watching his personal goddess wreak havoc in the skies, Lee Jordan enthusiastically cheered her on.

"Angelina is truly an exceptional Chaser; not only is her flying superb, she is also utterly charming... Our beautiful Angelina was merely a substitute player last year, and today she has completely suppressed Slytherin."

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall interrupted him once more, telling him to focus on calling the match rather than chasing girls.

"Sorry, Professor!" Lee Jordan nodded, passionately praising the outstanding performance of his house's players.

"A swift and direct pass; she tricked Slytherin's Chaser, and the ball goes to Alicia. Such sluggish opponents, truly a genius strategy!" Lee Jordan's commentary echoed across the entire stadium, while Slytherin students glared angrily up at his broadcast box.

"Oh no, two Slytherin Chasers are beginning to sandwich Alicia from front and back..." Lee Jordan cried out anxiously, "Wonderful, the ball is passed to Johnson... Oh dear, Slytherin has intercepted the Quaffle!"

"Yay!" The young wizards around Roger cheered, and Daphne jumped up to support her own house.

"The one with the ball is their captain, Marcus. This fellow is charging toward Gryffindor's goalposts—could he be about to score?"

Marcus charging toward the goals made everyone tense. He threw the ball forcefully toward the hoops, but Wood suddenly appeared, swinging his broom's tail to bat the Quaffle away.

"A magnificent save by Captain Wood!"

"The ball goes to the Chaser, Katie—watch out for the Bludger!" Lee Jordan let out a gasp as Katie, dodging a Bludger, had the ball snatched away by Slytherin's Adrian.

"Adrian is carrying the ball toward the goals; can Captain Wood stop him again?"

"Well played! The other Bludger hit Adrian—it's the Weasley twins! Gryffindor's Beaters are performing brilliantly, and Angelina has regained the Quaffle."

"There's nothing ahead of her; Angelina is accelerating, she's speeding up even more! It's just like flying!"

"The goalposts are right ahead, come on, Angelina! My goddess! She scores! Gryffindor scores!" Lee Jordan's shouts and Gryffindor's cheers echoed in the chilly wind, while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff also clapped to celebrate.

Listening to the growls and groans around him, Roger looked toward Harry Potter, who was hovering at the edge of the pitch. Matches featuring Harry always seemed to end with the capture of the Snitch.

"Slytherin launches another attack, but it's still ineffective!" Lee Jordan watched Wood bat the ball away as Gryffindor launched a swift counterattack.

"It's the Porskoff Ploy! The coordination between Katie and Angelina is simply telepathic; they've completely fooled Slytherin's Chasers."

"A gorgeous backward pass, and the Keeper, Montague, is late to react once again—Gryffindor scores!"

"Twenty to zero, Gryffindor leads!"

"Damn it, Marcus actually grabbed a club and batted a Bludger straight at Wood! A foul, that's a foul!"

Amidst gasps of shock, Wood was struck by the Bludger and plummeted down onto the sand below, causing Professor McGonagall to rise to her feet in worry.

"Foul!" the Gryffindors shouted loudly.

Madam Hooch shook her head; she regretted that Quidditch rules did not strictly prohibit such tactics.

"A blatant and despicable act of cheating... even if it didn't technically violate the rules..."

"Damn that Jordan!" Malfoy muttered angrily nearby, wishing he could use a spell to seal that fellow's mouth shut.

After Wood was carried off the pitch, a substitute Gryffindor player hurried to take his place. His skill level was noticeably a cut below, and Slytherin quickly surpassed their score.

Just as Slytherin was cheering, Harry's broom suddenly went out of control. It pitched wildly, bucking upwards before plunging downwards abruptly, even spinning in circles as if trying to fling Harry off.

Harry clung desperately to the broom, barely managing to avoid being thrown off by its violent thrashing. Suddenly, the broom executed a complete three-hundred-and-sixty-degree loop, leaving Harry dangling in mid-air with only a single hand gripping the shaft.

Everyone gasped in shock, chattering among themselves about Harry and his runaway broomstick, deeply concerned for his safety.

"Harry's broom is out of control!" Daphne raised her binoculars, her brow furrowed.

"Don't worry, the Headmaster and the professors are right here in the stands. Wood fell down a moment ago and turned out fine; at worst, he's just off to the hospital wing." Roger scanned the stands until he quickly spotted Snape, dressed all in black. Raising his line of sight slightly, he found Quirrell wrapped in his turban right above him.

"Right there, aim your binoculars right at that spot." Roger pointed, signaling Daphne to look.

"Our Head of House?" Daphne covered her mouth in shock, finding it hard to believe that Snape would attempt to murder the Savior in broad daylight.

"Look higher." Roger gently nudged Daphne's hands upward, bringing Quirrell into the frame as well.

"Professor Quirrell? He's not doing anything at all," Daphne said, looking at Roger in confusion.

"He's far too quiet. Everyone else has expressions on their faces, whether it's worry, fear, or even malicious glee. Only he sits completely motionless—that's far from normal. Besides wandless magic, wizards also possess the technique of silent casting."

"Our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher might well be deeply versed in it." Roger couldn't figure out why Quirrell would do such a thing. Was he simply trying to assassinate Harry?

Voldemort wouldn't be that foolish, would he? Even if he wanted to make a move, he wouldn't do it right under Dumbledore's nose. And even if Quirrell succeeded, what then? Would Harry spend a few days lying in the hospital wing?

"Could it be that Quirrell is meddling on his own?"

"What?" Daphne asked uncomprehendingly.

"I mean, one of them is trying to throw Harry off, while the other is trying to save him." Roger smiled, keeping the truth to himself.

"I hate riddles the most," Daphne pouted, glaring resentfully at Roger. Noticing new developments over on the other side, she quickly looked back.

"There's a fire?! Let me see who did that!" Daphne swept her binoculars back and forth, failing to notice Hermione slipping away stealthily.

With the influence of the curse lifted, Harry regained control of his Nimbus 2000. Like a cowboy taming a wild, rebellious steed, he earned thunderous applause and cheers from the crowd.