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76.7% I'm just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, nothing more. / Chapter 135: Chapter 135: Hi Padfoot!

Capítulo 135: Chapter 135: Hi Padfoot!

To tell the truth, Professor Sherlock Forester was not exactly a fan of Quidditch. As most of his time was spent amongst the dusty shelves of the Hogwarts' Library, engulfed in magical texts, his leisure moments were reserved for readathons of diverse novelties. One such book spoke of the many storied origins of Quidditch.

This ball game had a history shrouded in relative unimportance. Indeed, it didn't even feature a Golden Snitch or even a Seeker, until one exceptional game in 1269, presided over by the then Wizarding Council President, Barberus Bragge. In his possession was a magical avian species, the Golden Snidget, and he proclaimed a bounty of 150 Galleons to any player swift enough to capture it during the match.

As a result, the players left their game objectives behind, their sights singularly set on the startled bird for the lucrative 150 Galleons prize. The wizarding spectators, wholly absorbed in the spectacle, utilized repelling spells to discourage the bird from fleeing the field, continuing their entertainment.

Much to the dismay of Bragge, a kind-hearted spectator named Modesty Rabnott, out of sympathy for the pursued Snidget, subtly performed a summoning charm and concealed it within her robes for a later release. Albeit, she was inevitably discovered.

Enraged by the intervention, Bragge penalized Modesty ten Galleons for her interference. Despite the Snidget evading capture during that match, its association with Quidditch lingered.

Eventually, each team began designating a "Hunter", later evolving into a Seeker, whose sole task was the capture of a Golden Snidget during each match. The team of any "hunter" successful in cornering, and capturing the Golden Snidget, were rewarded with 150 points, signifying the handsome reward that Bragge had once promised.

As the popularity of Quidditch surged, the Golden Snidget populace drastically shrunk, nearing extinction by the fourteenth century. In this era, a Golden Snidget deemed fit for a game fetched astronomical prices at auctions.

In an attempt to rectify this, an ingenious metalworker hailing from Godric's Hollow, Bowman Wright, crafted a mechanical Golden Snidget. Christened the Golden Snitch, its advent established the indispensable role of the Seeker in Quidditch. This sequence of events, although ignoble, was responsible for the dwindling numbers of a species. In the present, the Modesty Rabnott Snidget Reserve stands as a testament to their preservation.

Professor Forester, enlightened about the sport's troubled past, held an initial disdain. Yet, trapped in the endless solitude of his office, accompanied by his gradually uplifting spirits, he felt a certain pull towards the anticipated excitement.

Despite the Professor's indifference, the Hogwarts students unanimously shared a passion for Quidditch, bracing the whipping winds and chilling rain, congregating at the bustling Quidditch pitch today.

The fierce winds proved formidable for any mundane umbrella, flirting with the idea of taking flight. As he navigated his path to the field, Sherlock caught glimpses of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and pupils including Hermione and Ron marching alongside him. Rather than joining the ensemble, he chose a solitary spot at the top of the stands, his chin supported by the palm of his hand.

Unruffled waves of detrimental weather conditions merely enhanced the thrilling ambiance on the Quidditch pitch. In the proximity of the front row, the school's headmaster, Dumbledore, was seen, even his eyes twinkling with excitement. The two teams had drafted their players, all of whom soared high on broomsticks as soon as the game begun under the watchful eyes of Madame Hooch, the flying instructor.

Sherlock was well-acquainted with the players from both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Potter, Wood, Diggory, the Weasley twins - they were all students in his classes. The game progressed tensely, and although disinterested, Sherlock boasted extensive knowledge of the Quidditch rules.

The Gryffindor team seemed to hold a substantial lead, but their Seeker, Harry Potter was visibly struggling, the rain dripping onto his glasses obscuring his vision. As the game briefly paused, Hermione scampered towards Harry and performed a bit of magic on his glasses, effectively warding off the rain droplets.

Sherlock nodded in acknowledgement; it was likely an Impervius Charm, a lesser-known charm that only a bookworm like Hermione would have remembered.

As Sherlock idly scanned his surroundings, his eyes caught sight of a stealthy, large black dog meandering across the stands. Recognition dawned; it was the same black dog that had proved instrumental in his and Hilke's investigations at Hogsmeade!

Thrilled by his presence, and restraining the growing shock, Sherlock coaxed the dog, "Here, boy, come here, Blackie." Sirius had surreptitiously infiltrated Hogwarts to spectate Harry's Quidditch match and now stood at the crossroads of decisions. For a fleeting moment, he contemplated absconding, but that would inevitably catch Sherlock's attention. Begrudgingly, he trotted towards the Professor, maintaining the facade of a regular dog. Sherlock, hidden affection creeping into his voice, petted Sirius' damp fur. Sirius returned the sentiment, tail wagging feverishly.

Patting the canine, Sherlock quipped, "Quite the adventurer, aren't you? Slipped past all those Dementors to sneak into Hogwarts. Perhaps Dementors have a soft spot for dogs?" Little did he know, Dementors appeared to have no interest in dogs.

Suddenly, Sherlock felt an eerily chilling presence encroach their peaceful surrounding. His gaze trailed into the sky, where an ominous horde of Dementors descended towards the busy Quidditch field. Sherlock's hand instinctively reached for his wand.

Witnessing Dementors close in, Dumbledore's experienced hands also procured his wand. A silver light flickered, piercing the icy cold with warmth. The swirling cloud of silver light, a phoenix-shaped Patronus, soared ahead, marking a defense line against the intruders.

Amid the ensuing chaos, Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff's Seeker and team captain, seized the Golden Snitch, declaring a triumphant end to the tumultuous match for Hufflepuff.

However, evidence of Cedric's remarkable fairness and integrity surfaced when he declared the match as unjust, due to Harry's fall. A rematch was proposed, but only once Harry was conscious and capable.

The spectators dispersed prematurely, unable to withstand both the threatening Dementors and freezing cold that followed them. It was a blight swiftly tackled, and by dusk, a semblance of peace was reinstated within the Hogwarts community.

Invigorated by the summoning of his Patronus, Sherlock's spirits lifted. Consistently summoning his unique armada of Patronuses, aptly named "Raven Storm", proved advantageous against creatures of darkness like Dementors. He made a note to replenish his supply of the melancholy potion, a quick remedy against the emotional aftershock of casting the Crow Storm.

Equipped with this trick, the crafting of his Patronus became a flawless art.


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
_Riux _Riux

Thanks for reading, everyone! Let me know what you thought of the chapter in the comments or give the book a vote (^ω^)!

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