"Professor, I assume you didn't call me here just to compliment my performance," Sean said.
"Quidditch is a fair and honorable sport," Dumbledore replied, looking at him over his spectacles. "Every player should compete using their genuine abilities. Don't you agree?"
Sean immediately understood what Dumbledore was implying.
With the Headmaster's keen eyes, noticing the subtle differences in Sean's flight would have been perfectly normal.
Dumbledore was clearly waiting for him to confess on his own.
"Alright," Sean admitted. "I used the Flying Charm. I only wanted to help my friend Cassius get his first victory. I really didn't want to see him looking so dejected anymore."
Dumbledore stepped out from behind his desk.
"Your intentions were good. Helping a friend is admirable. But what you did was unfair to the other players."
Sean avoided his gaze and muttered, "Professor, I was riding a broom."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"You weren't riding the broom. You were dragging it along."
Sean had no response.
"Your magical talent is extraordinary," Dumbledore continued, "but Quidditch has rules. You are meant to fly using the broom."
He paused, then said firmly, "The result of this match will stand. Slytherin keeps its victory. However, you will not be allowed to participate in any more matches this season."
"Professor…" Sean protested helplessly.
"That is all," Dumbledore said, cutting off any attempt at bargaining. "You may go."
Sean sighed, nodded, and turned toward the door.
Just as he reached it, Dumbledore raised a hand.
"Oh, and one more thing."
Sean stopped.
"Try not to wander around after curfew."
He waved him off.
Sean's heart skipped a beat.
Had Dumbledore discovered his midnight excursions?
But after thinking it over, Sean realized he hadn't snuck out once in the past two months, not since Dumbledore had strengthened nighttime patrols.
"Maybe someone else got caught," Sean thought. "And he's just warning me while he's at it."
Leaving the Headmaster's office, Sean headed straight to the hospital wing.
After all, he was the one who had arranged for Draco to get hit.
He felt a little guilty.
The hospital wing was crowded.
Draco's classmates and teammates surrounded his bed, while Lucius Malfoy and Snape stood closest.
Madam Pomfrey had already treated Draco.
His right shoulder was wrapped neatly in layers of bandages.
Lucius slowly reached out as if to touch his son's forehead.
But his trembling hand stopped halfway and withdrew.
His expression was conflicted.
Looking at Draco's pale face, Lucius felt a deep ache in his chest.
Because of his own fear and weakness, he had forced his son to carry an unbearable burden—one Draco himself didn't even know about.
And now there was no way to remove Voldemort's soul fragment from Draco.
All Lucius could do was continue forward and pray that the Dark Lord would honor his promise to spare his son.
"There's no need to worry, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey said with a reassuring smile. "Draco was brought in promptly. I'll give him Skele-Gro shortly. The bone will regrow, and he should be fully recovered within two days."
For her, this was routine.
Broken bones were practically a Quidditch tradition.
Sean had known that as well.
That was why he'd dared to use Draco as his substitute opportunity.
"Sean."
Hospital wings were supposed to be quiet, so Cassius called to him in a hushed voice.
"How is he?" Sean asked, craning his neck to see past the crowd.
"Madam Pomfrey says it's nothing serious," Cassius said. "Two days and he'll be fine."
Sean let out a breath.
"That's good."
In Gryffindor Tower, the atmosphere was gloomy.
The loss hung over the common room like a dark cloud.
Harry had been confident he could catch the Snitch.
He hadn't expected Slytherin to replace Draco with Sean.
Ron, his brows knitted together, was baffled.
"Wasn't Sean terrible at flying?"
Because Sean was two years older, Ron only knew his reputation through stories.
Fred answered, "Cedric knows best. In first year, Slytherin and Hufflepuff had flying lessons together. Cedric saw Sean fall off his broom trying to take off."
George nodded.
"Everyone saw it. After that, Sean practically gave up. He barely even touched his broom in class."
"So he secretly trained?" Ron asked.
Fred shrugged.
"Who knows? No one ever saw him."
Flying was only a first-year subject.
After that, students who wanted to keep flying joined Quidditch teams.
Sean hadn't tried out in second year.
Or third year.
And yet this year, he suddenly made the team.
The most frustrated person in the room was Harry.
He sat silently.
Gryffindor had been getting battered on the scoreboard.
Everything had depended on him catching the Snitch.
And then Slytherin substituted in Sean—a Seeker who had put him under immense pressure.
Angelina finally broke the silence.
"Cheer up. We can't afford to lose either of the next two matches."
The Hogwarts Quidditch Cup used a points system.
Week One: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin
Week Two: Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff
Week Three: Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff
Week Four: Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin
Week Five: Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw
Week Six: Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff
Each house played the other three teams once.
The top two teams advanced to the championship match before Christmas.
If Gryffindor defeated Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, they still had a chance to reach the final.
And perhaps face Slytherin again.
In Hufflepuff's basement common room, Cedric and the six other members of the team were reviewing the match.
Their captain, Zacharias Abbott, was an old friend of Sean's from the Inter-School Tournament.
He had even seen Sean use the Flying Charm.
"Slytherin's new Nimbus 2001s are bad news for the rest of us," Zach said.
"And so is their new Seeker—Sean."
Although Zach, Percy, and Penelope had seen Sean fly without a broom before, none of them had connected that feat to what they had witnessed during the match.
Sean was simply too exceptional.
If he suddenly became an outstanding Quidditch player, that seemed perfectly natural.
After all, geniuses were like that.
"Next week we play Ravenclaw," Zach said, rallying the team. "As long as we perform the way we do in practice, we'll win."
"Zach," Cedric said, "please ask Madam Hooch to reserve the pitch for me after classes. I want extra training."
As Hufflepuff's Seeker, Cedric had felt the pressure.
Between Harry and Sean, he now faced two extraordinary opponents.
He needed to improve.
After dinner that evening, Cassius excitedly dragged Sean around the common room for nearly two hours.
But when Sean finally told him he wouldn't be playing again this season, Cassius's grin vanished.
"Why?"
Sean sighed.
"Professor Dumbledore noticed I bent the rules a little. We're lucky he didn't overturn the match."
"Have you told the team?"
"I'll talk to Flint tomorrow. I'll make up some excuse. He wasn't thrilled about me joining anyway."
Cassius looked disappointed.
Sean clapped him on the shoulder.
"Cheer up. You all played brilliantly today. You built a huge lead in the opening ten minutes. Even without me, you would have won."
It was a kind lie.
Cassius brightened immediately.
"We did play pretty well, didn't we? Did you see those two interceptions I made?"
Sean smiled as his friend enthusiastically relived his best moments.
After washing up that night, Sean climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep.
His sleep was restless.
He dreamed something strange, but by morning, he couldn't remember a single detail.
The next morning, Sunday, the Great Hall was buzzing with unusual excitement.
Dumbledore himself had appeared at breakfast—a rare sight on a weekend morning.
Listening to the conversations around him, Sean quickly pieced together what had happened.
The previous night, the Weasley twins had been caught wandering the castle after curfew by Filch.
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