BANG!
Praeris was knocked off her feet and hit the ground.
Millicent rushed to help her up, shouting furiously: "Harry Potter! Are you blind?!"
Harry looked utterly flustered, already running, calling back over his shoulder: "Sorry, I didn't mean to!"
Praeris ignored the apology. She reached down and picked up the basket of herbs that had spilled to the ground, her voice going soft with distress. "Look. This Gillyweed got stepped on."
"Worry about yourself first!" Millicent was beside herself. "Running that fast — is there a dog chasing him or something?!"
"Miss Bulstrode." Professor Snape's deep, grave voice rang out. "I assume you are referring to me?"
Millicent grabbed Praeris by the arm and yanked them both flat against the wall, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.
Praeris held up the basket. "Professor Snape. This is from Professor Sprout, for you."
Snape snatched it away without changing his expression. "Go find Madam Pomfrey and get some ointment on that."
He turned and left.
The moment Snape was gone, Millicent spun Praeris around by both shoulders and looked her up and down. "Phew. Scared me half to death — did you see the Head of House's face? That Harry Potter!"
When Praeris had fallen, she had gone straight back. Because she was holding the basket, she hadn't been able to cross her arms to brace herself, so she had scraped both elbows raw.
"Isn't this strange?" Praeris said quietly. "Snape's office is just ahead. What would Potter have been going there for? His expression was frantic. He either did something wrong or saw something he shouldn't have, and Professor Snape caught him. But the Professor's leg is injured, so he couldn't catch up."
"What an awful Gryffindor!" Millicent muttered. "Do you know what he was trying to do?"
"No. There isn't enough information to fill in the gaps." Praeris kept her voice low. "But whatever it was, it clearly wasn't anything that would benefit the Professor."
She didn't particularly like Professor Snape's favoritism. But she was a Slytherin, and the Slytherins had been good to her. Millicent had always stayed by her side. Malfoy didn't like her, yet he had still sent Marcus to find her. Marcus had risked his life to come looking for someone.
Compared to a complete stranger like Harry Potter, the choice was obvious.
Praeris found herself thinking about whether Professor Snape's favoritism worked the same way. The heart sits on the left, so everyone's heart is biased. Just like Professor McGonagall let Harry Potter's mistakes slide, and Professor Snape praised Malfoy, who wasn't nearly as good as her.
Millicent made the final call. "We go to the Hospital Wing first. As for Potter, I think Malfoy will be very interested. I really wish Potter had run into me instead, then the one who got knocked flying would have been Potter himself."
Praeris laughed, genuinely. "Millicent, you're so dependable."
Dinnertime.
Praeris was having Shepherd's Pie. Hogwarts's version had a crispy mashed potato top layered thick with melted cheese, and underneath was a savory, rich lamb filling. Absolutely delicious.
Millicent had one hand gripping Malfoy's arm, chattering away at him, her other hand waving back and forth for emphasis.
Pansy tapped Praeris on the shoulder. "What is she whispering about? Is there something we're not supposed to hear?"
"No. It's something Gryffindor isn't supposed to hear." Praeris set down her fork.
"But we aren't Gryffindors." Pansy looked a little put out.
Praeris raised an eyebrow, glanced at Pansy, then at Malfoy, and understood at once. "If Malfoy thinks it's necessary, he'll tell you."
At the Gryffindor table.
"They must be scheming something." Ron watched the Slytherin side of the Great Hall. "That Slytherin girl and Malfoy were just looking at you."
Harry poked at his sausage, head down, voice low. "Is there any chance she's just talking badly about me?"
"Why would you think that? Though Slytherins talking badly about you is pretty normal." Ron looked thoroughly puzzled.
"Today when I went to get that book — you know — I ran into that thing. When I bolted out, I knocked Prince flying." Harry looked a little guilty.
"Prince is that girl?" Ron asked.
"No, the one with her hair pinned up beside her."
"Then why is it her......" Ron couldn't make sense of it.
"Because she was there too."
Ron kept eating, talking with his mouth full. "I keep feeling like she'll get Malfoy to make trouble for you."
Ron guessed right. The next day was Harry's first Quidditch match.
Slytherin had stayed up overnight to make a "POTTER MUST LOSE" banner, hung beneath the "SLYTHERIN MUST WIN" banner, in lettering even bigger than the "GRYFFINDOR MUST WIN" banner Gryffindor had made. The moment Gryffindor's players came out, the Slytherins let out one long, synchronized wave of booing.
Stella had saved spots for Praeris and Millicent near the teachers' section. She was already deep in conversation with Professor Sinistra. "I'm putting in one Galleon, Slytherin wins."
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"Oh, that's a terrible habit, Stewart!" Professor Sinistra glanced toward the middle of the stands, then smiled in Snape's direction. "Severus, trust me, I absolutely did not agree to any of this."
The moment Snape turned his head back toward the pitch, Sinistra dropped her voice. "You bet on Slytherin, so what am I supposed to bet on!"
"You could always bet on Gryffindor!" Stewart winked.
Sinistra threw up her hands. "But Slytherin has already won so many times." A pause. "All right, all right. One Galleon. Gryffindor."
"Praeris, Bulstrode — are you two in?" Stewart looked over at them.
Praeris shook her head. "I'll pass."
Millicent thought for a moment. "I'll bet Gryffindor."
"Bulstrode! You've betrayed the organization!" Stewart looked genuinely scandalized.
Millicent shook her head. "No. Praeris mentioned a concept the other day, risk hedging. If Slytherin wins, I'm happy for everyone, so I haven't really lost anything. And if Gryffindor somehow pulls off a miracle, I make a little money to soothe my wounded heart."
Sinistra laughed and momentarily lost control of her volume. "Prince, Bulstrode, you two are really something. Oh, you scared me, Professor Snape just turned around and glared at me!"
"But aren't you a teacher?" Millicent found this difficult to believe. "How can you be afraid of Professor Snape too?"
Praeris kept her binoculars raised. "Teachers used to be students."
Sinistra accepted this with good grace. "Praeris is right. Hogwarts is a wonderful place. It often makes me think back to my own student days, and I frequently forget I'm already a teacher."
"All right, all of you, stop chatting and watch the match." Stella pulled everyone's attention back to the pitch.
Professor Sinistra poked Stella. "You were the one talking the most, and now you're the one telling us to focus!"
Strange. Praeris still had her binoculars up, her mind elsewhere. Potter's broom doesn't look right.
She had originally been watching Marcus, their prefect. But when she shifted her gaze to Potter, his broom suddenly started misbehaving, nearly throwing him off several times in a row.
This didn't look like a broom going out of control. Based on the cases described in books, a broom losing control would at most send the rider shooting off in one direction, or simply drop them. It wouldn't keep trying to buck its rider off, over and over again.
She should report this to a teacher. But he was a Gryffindor, and this was a Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match.
What if her overflowing sympathy saved Potter and interfered with Marcus winning the match fairly?
On the other hand, what if she pretended not to see, and Potter fell from his broom and died?
Praeris felt she couldn't be the one to make this call. She stood up, intending to work her way down to Professor Snape a few rows below and let him be the one to decide.
Professor Snape was Slytherin's Head of House, after all.
Hermione and Ron had also noticed something was wrong with Harry. Hermione believed Snape was muttering a jinx to interfere with the broom, and she decided to solve the problem by setting his robes on fire.
The stands were packed, and Hermione was in a hurry. She accidentally knocked Professor Quirrell, sending him toppling forward into the row in front, and she didn't even stop to say sorry.
Hermione crouched beside Professor Snape and successfully set his robes alight. She turned, took two steps away.
A wand was pointed directly at her face.
"I thought you were a kind and warmhearted person." The voice was quiet. "But you've genuinely shocked me. Is this yours and Potter's scheme? Striking when he's weak, trying to harm our Head of House?"
Hermione looked up. It was Slytherin's Praeris Prince, the girl who had helped her and Neville find the toad.
The two of them stood facing each other.
Then, from somewhere high above the pitch, Harry Potter's voice rang out, bright with triumph: "I've caught the Snitch!"
In the Slytherin common room, the mood was low across the board.
Millicent held up the Galleon she had won, looking thoroughly despondent. "Not comforting at all!"
Beside her, Praeris was holding Millicent's kitten, Nina, stroking her fur over and over, her mind turning over everything that had happened at the match.
She had taken 2 steps down, intending to find Professor Snape and flag Harry Potter's situation to him. That was when she spotted the furtive figure: someone crouched beside Professor Snape, cast a Fire-Making Spell, and was already trying to slip away.
Praeris read the terrain in one glance, circled around 2 steps, and blocked the only path this person had for an escape. What she hadn't expected was that this little culprit turned out to be Gryffindor's Hermione Granger.
Praeris didn't hesitate. She pointed her wand and threw out that one sharp challenge.
Hermione had panicked, afraid Snape would discover what she had done. "No, I had a reason for this, let me go for now, and I'll explain everything later."
Praeris refused. But Hermione swore she would give her a proper explanation. Under Hermione's pleading gaze, Praeris told herself: I just want to hear what she has to say.
As it turned out, before long, Malfoy had indirectly "avenged" both Professor Snape and Praeris.
Malfoy provoked Potter, and in the middle of the argument knocked over a flowerpot, "accidentally" scattering dirt across the corridor, then walked off. By the time Harry Potter had even processed what was happening, he was already face-to-face with Filch's furious expression, and earned the punishment of cleaning out toilets.
Millicent said with deep satisfaction: "That's the only good news lately. Well done, Malfoy."
Ever since Potter had knocked Praeris flying, Millicent had rapidly grown Malfoy-like in her attitude toward him. With the added sting of Slytherin's Quidditch loss layered on top, she had become a full-blown anti-Potter partisan. The actual victim, Praeris, showed none of this.
"Milly." Praeris shook her head. "An eye for an eye, Harry Potter knocked into me, and Draco has already paid it back on my behalf. Let's call it settled."
"I'm standing up for you," Millicent said, incredulous.
"Yes." Praeris set down the watering can. "And that's enough. When it comes down to it, we have more important things to do than keeping our eyes fixed on someone we dislike. If I spend all my time reading and doing my assignments, I'll earn an O. If I spend all my time going after Potter, what will I get? Will someone give me a medal? The Grand Anti-Potter Medal?"
Besides, Harry Potter hadn't done it on purpose. At least not when it came to knocking Praeris flying.
It grew dark outside. Praeris told Millicent she had something to do alone and sent her back to the dormitory.
Hermione Granger was true to her word. She was waiting on the terrace of the Astronomy Tower.
"Praeris." Hermione turned around.
Praeris stepped out of the shadows. "It's me."
"Um. Harry asked me to apologize for him, he didn't mean to knock into you." Hermione used that as her opening.
Praeris showed no particular reaction. "Alright. And then?"
"What I'm about to say you might not quite believe, but it's true. Maybe you didn't see, at the time I did that, Harry's broom was losing control." Hermione stumbled through it.
Praeris looked entirely unsurprised. "Yes. And what exactly are you trying to say? You wouldn't be telling me that Potter's broom was being controlled by Professor Snape, and that you set the Professor on fire to save Harry Potter?"
"You really are clever!" Hermione thought back to the train. Explaining this to Praeris had turned out to be no trouble at all.
"I think I know where your reasoning is going," Praeris said, her voice flat. "But you've got it wrong. If Professor Snape wanted Harry Potter dead, he wouldn't need to cast a jinx in front of that many people. He has plenty of ways to make Harry Potter die without anyone ever knowing."
"Then how do you explain the fact that not long after Snape discovered the fire, Harry was suddenly able to control his broom again!" Hermione's voice sharpened with frustration. "Don't tell me that's just a coincidence?!"
Praeris shook her head. "I don't know who was interfering with the broom. But it wasn't Professor Snape. I was watching the match the entire time. When Potter's broom was losing control, Professor Sinistra mentioned that Professor Snape was glaring at her, because she had joined Stewart's little wager."
Hermione paused. "But you're a Slytherin. You'd obviously defend Snape."
"Is Professor Sinistra a Slytherin too, then?"
"Perhaps everything you described did happen. Just not at the same time."
Praeris looked at her for a moment. Then she let it go.
"You simply don't believe me," she said. "If that's the case, nothing I say will make any difference."
➤ Next: The Professors' Care