If there was one thing this year that remained completely untouched by outside interference, including that certain High Inquisitor, it was the Quidditch Inter-House League, which still kicked off as scheduled.
Just like every year.
The opening match always featured last year's House Cup champions against the team that had narrowly lost and taken second place. The first game of the season was guaranteed to be exciting.
The attention, the anticipation, the heated discussions were all there.
Not to mention that the two teams were Slytherin and Gryffindor.
These two Houses had never seen eye to eye, and neither had ever been willing to admit defeat to the other.
For Slytherin, this was a match they had to win.
For Gryffindor, it was a righteous rematch.
Before this day arrived, Gryffindor's ace, Harry Potter, had trained for a long time and received countless well-wishes.
With a schedule like that, it was obvious this would be a match no one wanted to miss. Even Umbridge, who usually had no interest in Quidditch, had shown up.
But…
Something had clearly gone wrong.
...
Quidditch Pitch.
There were no roaring cheers, no passionate chants.
Only complaints and heavy sighs drifted through the stands.
"Another one?"
"Of course. Without him, Slytherin's just back to their old tactics."
"Tch. If I'd known he wasn't playing, I wouldn't have come."
"This is embarrassing…"
Penelope, seated among the spectators, heard the same topic repeated over and over. That wizard. And how disappointing the match had turned out to be.
As for why everyone felt disappointed?
When you can clearly hear people talking during a Quidditch match, that alone explains a lot.
Anyone who had ever watched Quidditch knew that under normal circumstances, you could barely finish a sentence in the middle of a game. If you were not shouting at the top of your lungs or leaning in to yell directly into someone's ear, you would not be heard over the noise.
Complaints like these simply should not have been possible.
Penelope understood exactly what that meant. She also knew very well who "that wizard" referred to.
Just as she glanced helplessly toward the field, a listless voice echoed across the pitch.
"Another completely unsurprising goal, scored by Gryffindor's new captain, Angelina. An easy one, considering their opponents lost their captain yesterday. I have to say, this is a rather dull mat—"
"Lee!"
"Sorry, Professor McGonagall."
As the half-hearted commentary continued, Penelope shifted her gaze to the Slytherin captain on the field.
He wore the same green and silver, but unlike last year's captain, he did not have sunlit pale blond hair. Nor did he possess the kind of dazzling skill that made the crowd hold its breath.
There was nothing striking about him.
Because he was not Draco Malfoy.
Even the rest of the team felt unfamiliar. It was as though overnight, the House Cup-winning squad had been replaced entirely.
And the current score…
0:90.
Slytherin had yet to score a single point.
The match was not over, but the outcome was already obvious.
Under Angelina's fierce leadership, Gryffindor was completely overwhelming Slytherin.
If Oliver, the former captain, saw this, he would probably be furious enough to cry.
No one would have imagined that Slytherin, which had claimed the House Cup year after year, would one day become nothing more than background for someone else's triumph.
"I heard rumors, but I didn't think it would go this far."
Penelope scanned the Slytherin stands, where the atmosphere was stiff and heavy, searching for Draco Malfoy.
As expected, the boy who always stirred up trouble had not given them the chance to find him.
Draco was nowhere in sight. Neither were the two bulky figures of Goyle and Crabbe. And the three girls who were usually inseparable from them were absent as well.
Withdrawing her gaze, Penelope recalled certain unpleasant memories and cast a sympathetic look toward Professor Snape, whose expression was dark enough to frighten anyone nearby.
Just like at the exchange meeting, Draco had once again left someone else to clean up the mess.
Just as Penelope had seen.
Draco had not only stepped down as captain, he had also taken several team members with him and withdrawn from the squad altogether. At this moment, he was nowhere near the Quidditch Pitch. Instead, he was sitting in the Slytherin common room some distance away.
As for why he had done that, the expressions on the players' faces and their conversation made it obvious.
"Should've done this ages ago. It's not like they ever liked us anyway."
"Still, what a pity. I wanted to take the House Cup again this year. Let's hope Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff put up a good fight. As for Slytherin… well, hopefully they don't lose too badly."
"Please. Without a captain, Slytherin never stood a chance."
"Mm… I hate to admit it, but that Potter is really strong."
If Penelope had been here, she would have recognized them immediately. These loud voices belonged to last year's House Cup-winning lineup. Every single one of the players who had disappeared from the pitch was gathered here.
And besides being former Slytherin team members, they were also part of Draco's followers.
Yet compared to what they were saying, Draco was more concerned about something else entirely.
Pansy and Hermione.
Recently, their behavior had been… unusual.
Not exactly strange.
But the usual back-and-forth bickering between them seemed to have shifted slightly.
Their relationship had improved. They were constantly together now, walking side by side wherever they went, as if overnight they had become close confidantes with no secrets between them.
This was something Draco should have been pleased to see.
And yet, for some reason, it left him faintly unsettled.
After receiving a perfectly synchronized glare from both Pansy and Hermione earlier, Draco rubbed his chin in confusion.
Could it be… they were preparing something for Christmas this year?
Like pretending not to remember your birthday, only to surprise you later?
The thought crossed his mind more than once.
When it came to guessing what girls were thinking, Draco finally seemed exactly his age.
...