The morning sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows of Hogwarts Dining Hall, casting a warm glow on the long table and illuminating the students enjoying their breakfast.
The air was filled with the aroma of toasted bread, bacon, and pumpkin juice, and the lively chatter and laughter filled the restaurant as people talked about the upcoming Quidditch match.
Moen and his three companions were having breakfast and chatting casually.
"The match is today! I can't wait!" Ron said excitedly, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Harry, you have to win!" He winked at Harry, cheering on his good friend.
Harry nodded, a smile on his face, but a hint of nervousness flickered in his eyes. This was his first Quidditch match, and he desperately wanted to win, but the immense pressure made him very nervous. "I'll do my best."
He gripped the fork in his hand tightly, as if to encourage himself, and gave Ron a determined look.
Hermione gave Harry very detailed instructions: "Don't get too excited, be careful! And be sure to watch out for the Slytherin team, they have so many dirty tricks up their sleeves."
As she reminded Harry, she took a cup and began pouring him a full glass of pumpkin juice.
"Take a good rest and replenish your energy." Her tone was full of concern.
Watching their interaction, Moen felt a warm feeling rise in his heart. This was true friendship; although there were some minor arguments, they cared about each other.
"Good luck, Mr. Potter."
A cold, deep voice suddenly broke the lively atmosphere in the restaurant.
Snape suddenly appeared beside them, his dark eyes still filled with indifference.
"If you can face trolls, then today you should dare to face the Slytherin team. I'll be watching you closely, Potter." His words were clearly sarcastic and distrustful, and he even added a threatening remark, which made Harry's face darken.
Then he limped toward the long table for faculty and staff.
Moen knew that he actually cared a lot about Harry.
But it contains too many complex factors.
"What a haughty bat!" Moen thought to himself.
Since he is destined to be Voldemort's enemy, he still needs to use these allies. Now he must improve his strength as soon as possible.
Harry didn't notice the change in Mohn's eyes, but he did notice Snape's limp.
A flash of anger crossed his eyes, and he abruptly put down his knife and fork.
"I think Snape must have let the trolls in last night!" His tone was no longer calm; he raised his voice and became more certain.
Clearly, Snape's unusual behavior made him highly suspicious.
Moen glanced at them, his brow furrowed slightly, but he didn't say anything, listening silently to their opinions.
He knew he couldn't change their opinion of Snape now.
"What?" Hermione looked incredulous; she clearly didn't believe the theory.
"This is ridiculous! I think it's highly unlikely. He's a professor, why would he do this? Isn't he just asking for trouble? And how could Mr. Snape be hanging out with trolls?" She still didn't want to believe it; she still couldn't believe that her professor would do such a thing.
"I think Harry is right," Ron said, tapping his chin with his finger and joining in the analysis.
"Snape was indeed the last to arrive yesterday, and he was limping. I suspect his leg was also bitten by a troll!" He tried to find evidence that fit his logic to prove that Harry's statement was correct.
Harry's gaze hardened, and his tone hardened further: "Besides, I saw yesterday that his leg was clearly injured, and the injury was very similar to that of the three-headed dog we encountered on the third floor!" His voice was filled with anger.
"Snape definitely knows about the Philosopher's Stone! He must be after the Philosopher's Stone, which is why he released the troll to attract attention!" Every word he spoke seemed to be spoken with extra force.
He felt as if he had grasped a thread, and he remembered feeling the oppressive force of that monster on the third floor!
No wonder things were so strange yesterday. Now all the explanations make sense. Snape must want the Philosopher's Stone!
"And Moen also saw Snape's leg injury!" Harry asked Moen again, his eyes eager for an answer, because in his mind, Moen was undoubtedly the strongest and most rational among his friends.
Therefore, he was eager to know Moen's opinion on the matter.
Moen felt the expectant look in Harry's eyes, and he knew that he had to give a reasonable explanation.
Moen frowned, feeling a sense of helplessness.
He knew that Harry's judgment was merely his prejudice and conjecture about Snape. Although it was reasonable and well-founded, the real enemy was someone else entirely.
Professor Rocky was the one who wanted to get rid of Harry; he had been watching them from behind the scenes all along.
The Voldemort mark on the back of his head resembled a sharp blade hanging overhead, ready to deliver a fatal blow at any moment!
His gaze also swept over Dumbledore, who was chatting happily with several other teachers at the long table. His eyes were filled with complex emotions. Dumbledore knew everything, but did nothing, seemingly letting things take their course, seemingly indifferent to everything.
He will use all his power to prevent the tragedy in the original story from happening again.
"Maybe, but I think the most important thing right now is today's Quidditch match." He brushed the topic aside and didn't discuss Snape any further.
His words successfully drew the attention of the other three, especially the idea of winning a reward, which made them all eager to try. Harry also temporarily suppressed his suspicions about Snape.
The four of them started discussing, one sentence after another, as if they had forgotten all the unpleasantness of yesterday.
Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out at the restaurant entrance.
A snow-white owl flew into the dining room once again. It went straight to Harry and tossed a long package in front of him.
It let out a clear chirp, then circled in the air before landing precisely beside Professor McGonagall. The bird gently rubbed its head against Professor McGonagall's hand, as if seeking her praise.
"What's this? A package so early in the morning?" Ron looked at the package that had been delivered, his eyes filled with curiosity, clearly unable to imagine what kind of surprise could arrive at this time.
Hermione was also surprised by the unexpected package, her eyes filled with anticipation. "Is this a new gift?" she muttered to herself.
"Who sent this to me?" Harry asked, opening the package with a puzzled look. Then, looking at the Nimbus 2000 with its wrapping paper removed, he immediately showed a look of surprise.
"I've never seen such a beautiful broom before!" He stroked the wooden handle of the broom with great affection, his eyes filled with excitement.
Moen glanced at Shera standing beside Professor McGonagall and understood everything. "Who else but Professor McGonagall could give you such a precious gift?" He winked at Harry, a sly smile playing on his lips.
Harry seemed to notice something and looked up in the direction of Professor McGonagall.
The moment his eyes met Professor McGonagall's, she nodded slightly to him with an encouraging smile, but quickly suppressed it, reverting to a serious and earnest expression.
At that moment, Harry understood completely. This was indeed a gift from his teacher.
He quickly gave Professor McGonagall a grateful smile to express his thanks! Holding the Nimbus 2000 in his hand, his smile was incredibly bright.
He was sure he would win today's match! He cheered himself on silently.