The common room still hummed with echoes of celebration long after the sun had set behind the turrets of Hogwarts. Students were drifting off to bed, their voices hoarse from cheering, their energy finally giving way to exhaustion. The embers of the fireplace glowed low, and the warmth of the room was laced with the sweet scent of pumpkin pasties and treacle tart.
Lennon sat curled in one of the deep armchairs, a cup of tea cradled in her hands. Across from her, Harry was yawning between sips of hot cocoa, eyes still lit with the adrenaline of the day.
"You did it," she said softly, smiling over the rim of her cup.
Harry beamed. "I actually caught the Snitch."
"Not just that," Fred added, sprawling across a nearby armrest. "You dodged a rogue Bludger and a cursed broom like a proper seeker. Not bad for a first-year."
George nudged Lennon. "And our girl saved his neck. That Bludger almost took his head off."
Lennon shrugged. "Couldn't let Slytherin win. Not on my watch."
But even as the joy lingered in the room, a shadow tugged at the edge of her thoughts. Something about the cursed broom—and Snape's steady gaze—refused to leave her mind.
---
Later that night, when the tower was silent and only the occasional snore echoed from the dormitories, Harry stirred awake.
Lennon, perched by the window, noticed him creeping down the stairs.
"Midnight wanderer?" she whispered.
Harry turned, startled. "I just… couldn't sleep. I keep thinking about the match. About the broom."
Lennon set aside her book. "You're not the only one."
A moment passed.
"I don't think Snape was trying to help," Harry said at last. "His eyes—he was muttering something. I could feel it."
"I saw it too." Lennon nodded slowly. "But I also saw Quirrell. Right before the curse broke."
Harry frowned. "Quirrell?"
"I think Hermione hit him on accident while trying to stop Snape. But... what if it wasn't an accident? What if it *was* Quirrell doing something—and not Snape?"
---
They weren't the only ones unsettled.
The next morning, as the castle stirred back to life, whispers spread like fire through the halls. Rumors about the cursed broomstick. About the hex. About who might have cast it.
At breakfast, Dumbledore was unusually quiet. Snape sat stiffly at the head table, his gaze flickering between the Gryffindor table and Quirrell, whose hands trembled as he buttered his toast.
Mattheo, seated beside Lorenzo and Theodore at the Slytherin table, leaned back in his chair.
"She's not going to let this go," Lorenzo murmured, nodding toward Lennon.
"Would you?" Mattheo replied.
"She's getting too close," Theodore muttered. "If she connects the dots, things could spiral fast."
Mattheo didn't respond. His eyes were on Lennon.
---
Later that evening, Lennon walked with Harry, Ron, and Hermione down a quiet corridor on the third floor. Curiosity had overtaken them all. The match had made it clear: someone wanted Harry hurt—or worse. And none of them were content to sit and wait.
"We know something's going on," Ron whispered. "Why else would someone mess with the broom?"
Hermione clutched a book tight to her chest. "I've been reading about magical interference—very advanced stuff. Whoever did that wasn't just talented. They were prepared."
They passed the suit of armor.
"The third floor corridor," Harry said suddenly. "It's forbidden. What if there's something in there—something connected?"
Without thinking, they pushed open the door.
A wave of heat rolled over them.
A massive creature stirred in the shadows.
"Bloody hell," Ron breathed.
Three heads rose into view, snarling in unison.
Hermione gasped. "It's guarding something!"
Lennon pulled them back. "Out! Now!"
They slammed the door shut just as the enormous paws thudded against it.
Their chests heaved in the hallway.
"That was a bloody *Cerberus*," Ron wheezed.
"Guarding a trapdoor," Lennon said, pale.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "So someone at Hogwarts… is trying to get whatever it's guarding. And they tried to stop me because I'm close to it."
Lennon looked around at them. Small. Brave. Brilliant. And far too young to carry the weight of this alone.
"I promised I'd protect you," she said. "And I will. But this is bigger than just you, Harry. We need answers."
Hermione nodded. "We need to know what's under that trapdoor."
Lennon exhaled. The game had ended, but the real challenge had just begun.