Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Snape's body stiffened abruptly, as if struck by an invisible petrification spell.

"What...did you say?"

Over the years, he had been filled with remorse for telling Voldemort about the prophecy.

And he hated Sirius Black in his heart, and now he's telling me that Sirius Black wasn't the one who betrayed him!

Dumbledore did not answer immediately, but slowly stood up, walked around the desk, and went to Snape.

His blue eyes gleamed sharply behind his half-moon lenses, as if they could read Snape's mind.

“Severus,” he said softly, “the Ministry of Magic didn’t interrogate him, didn’t investigate, didn’t even give Black a chance to defend himself. They just threw him into Azkaban—and everyone accepted that, including you.”

For twelve years, he never doubted that Black had betrayed the Potters and caused Lily's death—that was an undeniable fact.

But now, Dumbledore says he's not the killer?

So who else is there?

"Evidence." He finally forced out the word through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous, "If you dare to play games with me using such absurd speculation—"

"Kane will find the evidence," Dumbledore calmly interrupted him.

Snape's brow furrowed deeply. "Kane? Why was it him who sent him?"

He simply couldn't understand what Dumbledore was thinking.

"He was the one who reminded me of this."

Dumbledore's voice remained calm. "It was he who discovered the loophole in the Ministry of Magic's files—Black's trial record contained no detailed testimonies from any witnesses, only the conclusions of the Ministry of Magic officials."

Snape's lips pressed into a tight line.

Kane Malfoy—the boy who was completely different from Draco, even though he trusted Kane.

But he still couldn't accept that Dumbledore would entrust such an important matter to a student to investigate.

After all, he always adhered to a principle.

"I am an adult, you are a child, and I have an obligation to take care of you first."

"You're sending a first-year student to investigate this?" His voice was laced with suppressed rage. "If Black is truly innocent, then the real traitor is still at large—and that person is very likely still in Voldemort's camp! If Kane is discovered—"

"He won't be discovered," Dumbledore said confidently. "Kane is more cautious than we think, and this boy's strength is beyond your imagination."

"If he really does find evidence..."

Snape's voice was almost squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Then we will bring the truth to light." Dumbledore's gaze was firm. "But before that, Severus, I need you to remain calm and, if necessary, assist Kane."

"I'll be there," he whispered, flicking his black robe and turning to walk toward the door.

But before his hand touched the doorknob, he paused for a second and did not turn around.

"By the way, I hope you'll be there for the Gryffindor Quidditch match this time, otherwise I'm not sure if Harry Potter will get thrown to his death. Also, your warden seems a bit off."

"Don't worry, Harry will be fine," Dumbledore replied calmly.

Snape said nothing more and left.

The fireplace in the Gryffindor common room crackled and popped.

It was reflected on Oliver Wood's face, which was flushed with excessive excitement.

He stood on the coffee table, waving a piece of parchment in his hand, his voice so loud it almost shook the ceiling.

"Listen up! Next up is Hufflepuff—we'll win!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the team sat in a circle, while Fred and George leaned back lazily in their armchairs with knowing smiles on their faces.

"We lost to Slytherin, but that's because they all had Nimbus 2000! And Harry was affected."

During the last competition, none of the Gryffindor members blamed Harry; instead, they thought it was already quite an achievement that Harry hadn't fallen off the out-of-control broom.

Moreover, if the broom hadn't gone out of control, Harry would have found the Golden Snitch much faster than Draco.

Wood pumped his fist excitedly, "But the Hufflepuffs? Their brooms are slower than ours! This time—"

"This time we might lose even more badly."

George suddenly interrupted, a hint of sadness on his face.

Wood's expression froze instantly. "What?"

Fred sat up straight, a sly smile on his face. "Because of the news that just came from Professor McGonagall's office—the referee for the next match has been changed."

An ominous silence enveloped the entire lounge.

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. Could it be him?

"Who did they replace?"

George sighed dramatically and shook his head in feigned grief. "Our dear, kind, and unbiased Professor Snape."

"What?!" Ron jumped up from his chair, his face pale. "Snape? The Snape who wanted to curse Harry off his broom?"

Hermione frowned. "This doesn't make sense! Mrs. Hooch has always been the Quidditch referee!"

"Unless something comes up unexpectedly," Fred shrugged. "But strangely enough, she was training the Hufflepuff team at the stadium yesterday."

Wood's face turned from red to green, and his fists clenched so tightly they cracked.

"This is definitely suspicious! Snape as referee? He'll definitely find an excuse to penalize us!"

Harry felt a sharp pain in his stomach.

His broom went out of control during the last match against Slytherin!

Although Kane said Snape was protecting him.

But he couldn't understand why his broom would still go out of control when he was supposed to be protecting him.

Now, Snape will stand directly in the center of the court, holding the referee's power?

He won't just fall to his death, will he?

"We're finished," Dean Thomas wailed, collapsing onto the sofa.

"No!"

Wood suddenly roared and slammed his hand on the table, making the chocolate frog on the table jump.

"We haven't lost yet!"

Everyone was stunned by his sudden outburst. Wood's eyes burned with an almost fanatical fighting spirit.

"Listen, Snape wants to mess with us? Let him try! We're faster and stronger than the Hufflepuffs. If we fly high and fast enough, he won't even have a chance to get the ball!"

Fred whistled.

"Wow, Wood, what you're saying is getting me all fired up—though I still think we're going to die a horrible death."

George nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, Snape will definitely find an excuse to punish us fifty times, and then just declare Hufflepuff the winner."

"Then don't give him a chance!"

Wood shouted sternly, "Starting today, extra training! Every afternoon at six o'clock, assemble at the court! We're going to train until even Snape can't find a fault with us!"

Harry has been inspired by Wood's fighting spirit!

"Okay," Harry nodded, echoing, "Let's practice."