Dobby knew that a fragment of Voldemort's soul now resided inside Draco.
That terrified him.
He feared Draco, but he was even more worried about the boy he regarded as a true hero—Harry Potter.
Dobby was convinced that Harry and Voldemort could not remain in the same school.
So, taking advantage of the Quidditch match, Dobby sneaked into Madam Hooch's office and tampered with one of the Bludgers.
Bludgers were dangerous enough by nature.
They flew wildly around the pitch, attacking any player they could.
That was why each team had two Beaters assigned specifically to defend against them.
But today, the moment one of the Bludgers was released from its box, it seemed unnaturally violent.
Whoosh!
It shot into the sky and vanished from sight, moving almost as fast as the Golden Snitch.
"That Bludger's not right," Fred said, gripping his bat.
He and George were Gryffindor's Beaters, and no one on the field paid closer attention to Bludgers than they did.
They had never seen one behave like this.
Meanwhile, Harry and Draco were flying neck and neck, affectionately chasing the Golden Snitch.
After six weekends of training—through rain and wind—Draco's flying had improved significantly.
Before this, Draco would never have willingly flown in bad weather.
Fortunately, today's drizzle had become an unexpected benefit of his recent practice.
In the stands, Lucius Malfoy wore a satisfied smile.
He was clearly pleased with his son's performance.
Slytherin came out like a steamroller.
From the commentator's box, Lee Jordan announced excitedly, "Slytherin is currently leading, sixty to zero!"
Harry's glasses were soaked with rain, his lenses fogged over.
Focused entirely on the Snitch, he hadn't even noticed Gryffindor was already down by sixty points.
Flint cast a glance toward the Slytherin spectator tower.
Sean's warning about "substituting him in if things looked bad" now seemed ridiculous.
What nonsense.
Slytherin was crushing Gryffindor.
The Slytherin players were brimming with confidence.
Their coordination was sharp, their attack steady, and they gave Gryffindor no room to breathe.
Suddenly, the rogue Bludger came hurtling toward Harry from behind, slicing through the air with a vicious whistling sound.
Crack!
Fred intercepted it with a full-powered swing.
The impact sent a shock of pain through both his arms.
This was no ordinary Bludger.
It felt absurdly heavy.
"There's definitely something wrong with it," Fred said grimly.
"We need to stop the match and have that Bludger inspected," George said.
He signaled Oliver Wood, who flew over.
Wood looked irritated.
"What are you two doing? The other Bludger was practically standing still. Why didn't you send it into the Slytherins?"
Fred pointed at the berserk Bludger.
"We've been too busy keeping this thing from smashing Harry's head in."
"Oliver," George said urgently, "we need to stop the match."
Wood frowned.
"Stop the match?"
He clearly thought George meant a regular timeout.
In Quidditch, each team was allowed two thirty-second timeouts to substitute players or discuss tactics.
Stopping the match entirely was reserved for major incidents.
"If that Bludger turns out to be normal and we halt the game for nothing," Wood said, "we'll lose the match and become the laughingstock of Slytherin."
He still didn't fully trust George's judgment.
Fred suddenly spoke up.
"Fine. We keep playing."
He tightened his grip on his bat.
"I'll handle it."
Then he muttered under his breath, "Assuming it doesn't kill me first."
After Wood flew off, George looked at his twin with concern.
"You're going to get flattened."
Fred forced a grin.
"I already hit it once, didn't I? Get back to your position."
At that moment, the rogue Bludger came screaming back toward the stands.
Harry and Draco were weaving between the spectator towers, pursuing the Snitch through a dangerous obstacle course.
From the Slytherin tower, Sean watched the Bludger without blinking.
"Looks like Dobby put a Tracking Charm on it."
Harry and Draco shot past the stands at full speed.
The Bludger tore after them.
Its target was Harry alone.
"Sorry, Draco."
Sean concealed his wand movement beneath his robes.
He knew Harry was supposed to catch the Snitch and win the match for Gryffindor.
What he had forgotten was that Slytherin had dominated from the opening whistle.
There was no chance of Flint voluntarily substituting him in while they were leading so comfortably.
Which meant Sean would have to create his own opportunity.
Silently, he cast Wind Arrow on the Bludger.
The ball, which had been racing straight for Harry, abruptly accelerated and slammed into Draco instead.
Bang!
The Bludger struck Draco's right shoulder.
He was knocked off his broom and fell directly into the spectator stands.
Draco lay unconscious.
Lucius leapt to his feet, staring in alarm at his son's limp form.
Harry slowed, turning to look at his fallen rival.
Flint immediately signaled Madam Hooch to pause the match.
"He's likely suffered a fracture," Madam Hooch said. "Get him to the hospital wing immediately."
She turned to Flint.
"Slytherin needs a substitute."
Flint looked toward Sean with obvious reluctance.
"We're sending in our reserve Seeker, Sean."
Madam Hooch wasn't surprised.
Each team's roster had been submitted two weeks before the season began, and she already knew Sean had joined Slytherin.
The students, however, were anything but calm.
"Sean? Sean's on the team?"
"Wasn't his Flying grade a fail?"
The stands erupted into whispers.
The Gryffindor players exchanged uncertain glances.
They'd heard rumors Sean had joined the team, but none of them had ever seen him train.
No one had any idea how good he really was.
Sean mounted Draco's broom and took his place beside Harry.
During the pause, he had already cast Finite Incantatem on the rogue Bludger.
The ball had been enchanted with both a Tracking Charm and a Speed Charm, but Sean's Magic vision couldn't reveal a spell's structure after it had already been cast.
He could only analyze magic during the casting process.
So he tried Finite as a test.
The universal counter-curse could dispel most spells composed of fewer than seven magical frameworks.
When the Bludger resumed normal behavior, Sean knew Dobby's spell had been relatively simple.
Snape carried Draco to the hospital wing, while Lucius hurried after them.
Once play resumed, Sean and Harry resumed their duel for the Golden Snitch.
Naturally, the Snitch hadn't waited for them.
It was already on the far side of the field.
The contest was fierce.
Facing Harry directly, Sean had to admit the boy's natural talent for Quidditch was extraordinary.
Even so, Sean caught the Snitch.
Only four minutes after entering the match, he closed his hand around the tiny golden ball and ended the game.
Slytherin won.
Cassius flew toward him, shouting Sean's name in exhilaration.
Madam Hooch was stunned.
Sean's flying ability had improved so dramatically that he seemed like a completely different person from the first-year student who had nearly fallen off a broom.
In the stands, Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall exchanged a glance.
Both appeared to have reached the same conclusion.
Along with Snape and Hagrid, they were among the few who knew Sean had mastered true flight magic.
By now, Dumbledore strongly suspected Sean had been using that spell during the match.
While the rest of the team celebrated, Sean was quietly summoned to the Headmaster's office.
"You played a very fine match," Dumbledore said.
But Sean could hear the hidden meaning behind the compliment.
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