Hogwarts' Golden Glory

"Just one! Please!" Colin's eyes glistened in the moonlight, as if they were about to burst into tears. "Can I have an autograph? I've collected all the clippings about you!"

Wood strode over, his Quidditch captain's authority now unmistakable.

"Mr. Creevey, if you don't leave the pitch immediately, I'll have to point my wand at you. And," he added, seeing Colin's face instantly fall, "I'll personally tell Professor McGonagall that you've interfered with Quidditch practice."

Colin looked as if he'd been hit by a stray ball. "But—but—"

"No buts," Wood said firmly. "Harry is our Seeker, and he needs to focus on training. If you want to support Gryffindor, come cheer them on during the game."

Colin reluctantly backed away slowly, but kept the camera raised and took a few more photos. "Harry, I can—"

"No way!" Wood and Harry said in unison.

Colin finally left, but Harry could sense him hiding in some shadow in the stands, the camera lens still reflecting the moonlight.

"Alright, let's get back to training!" Wood clapped and shouted. "Harry, don't let this affect you. We need your 100% focus."

Harry took a deep breath and rose back into the sky.

But Colin's presence did affect his performance.

In his next few attempts, he missed the golden butterfly, and once he even nearly fell off the broom because he was distracted.

"That's enough!" Wood finally called a halt to the training, his voice filled with obvious disappointment. "Harry, you're not in the zone today."

Harry lowered his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Wood, I—"

"It's not your fault," Angelina interrupted him, glaring at the stands. "It's all that little brat's fault."

"We'll try again tomorrow," Wood said, though clearly frustrated, he tried to remain encouraging. "Remember, guys, this win is crucial. Slytherin won't go easy on us, and neither will we."

As the team packed up their gear to return to the castle, Colin suddenly emerged from the shadows again.

"Harry! Just one autograph! I swear this is my last request!"

Ron stepped in front of Harry. "Listen, kid, Harry isn't an animal in a zoo. He has a life, he needs training, he needs to learn, he needs—"

“We need quiet,” Hermione added gently but firmly. “Colin, it’s good to admire someone, but you should also respect his privacy and time.”

Colin's eyes darted between the three of them before finally settling on Harry, filled with anticipation.

Harry felt a pang of guilt, but he knew Ron and Hermione were right.

"Colin," he said as gently as possible, "I appreciate your support. But Quidditch is really important to me, and I need to focus on training. Maybe... after the tournament?"

Colin's face lit up. "Really? You'll sign my autograph after the game?"

"Uh, I mean—"

"Great!" Colin exclaimed, completely ignoring Harry's hesitation. "I'll sit in the front row and cheer you on!"

After saying that, he skipped away, the camera dangling in front of his chest.

Wood walked over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Good job. But don't let him affect you, Harry. As the Seeker, you need to be more focused than anyone else."

Harry nodded, but in his heart he was thinking that sometimes being the "boy who survived" was more complicated than dealing with Voldemort.

At least Voldemort wouldn't be asked for autographs or photos.

On the way back to the castle, the atmosphere within the team was somewhat somber.

Fred and George tried to lighten the mood with a few new jokes about Lockhart, but with limited success.

"Hey," Wood suddenly stopped and turned to the team as they approached the Gryffindor Tower.

"I know today wasn't very successful. But remember, we're a team. We celebrate together when we win, and we share the burden when we lose. We'll be stronger next time we train."

His gaze finally settled on Harry. "Especially you, Harry. You're our best Seeker, don't let anything shake your confidence."

Harry felt a warm current surge through his heart.

Wood may be a training fanatic, but he is definitely a good captain.

"Thank you, Wood. I won't let everyone down."

The portrait of the plump woman turned its eyes to look at the group of tired students. "Password?"

"The flames of the phoenix," Wood replied.

The portrait rotates open, revealing an opening behind it.

As Harry was the last to climb in, he heard Colin's voice in the distance: "Goodnight, Harry! Sweet dreams!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Merlin's beard, that kid is a nightmare."

Hermione, however, seemed thoughtful. "Actually, it's a bit pitiful. He idolizes Harry so much, yet he doesn't realize that this is actually causing Harry trouble."

Harry collapsed wearily onto the sofa in the common room and closed his eyes.

Tomorrow there will be more training, more classes, and Colin's ever-present camera.

But at this moment, he just wanted to rest quietly for a while.

However, fate seemed to have other plans. When he opened his eyes, he found Colin somehow standing beside him.

He was kneeling on the coffee table in front of him, holding up a camera.

"Harry! Just one picture of him sleeping! Please!"

Once in bed, Harry's eyelids closed heavily!

Colin's excited voice echoed in his mind like a needle pricking his temples.

Suddenly, he casually remarked to Ron, "I wish he could just disappear..."

The thought, like a bouncing ball, crashed uncontrollably into Harry's mind, startling him.

That evening, Harry slept very uncomfortably, as he could faintly hear a noise disturbing him.

Even then, his physical exhaustion prevented him from getting up, until he was awakened by an unusual commotion in the common room.

Neville Longbottom shook him awake, his face pale. "Harry! Something's happened! Crevita—he's been petrified in the second-floor hallway!"

The ceiling of the auditorium was shrouded in gloom, as if it too was infected by the oppressive atmosphere.

Professor McGonagall announced in a trembling voice: "No student may act alone; the attackers are still roaming the castle."

Harry noticed that Dumbledore's bright blue eyes had lost their luster, and he was talking quietly with Snape.

"I heard he fell while holding a camera," Seamus Finigan said in a low voice, "like he was about to film something terrible..."

Dean Thomas added, "When Filch found him, he was still clutching a picture of Harry."

Harry felt the butterbeer congealing in his stomach.

Ron's fork clattered onto the plate: "Merlin...you were just thinking about this last night..."

Hermione stomped on Ron's foot, but her eyes were equally uneasy.