Chapter 92

When the children returned to school, it was already late; if Zhang Qiu hadn’t given them Invisibility Charms, Harry would have had to bring them out one by one using the Invisibility Cloak, just as he had when they left, and they wouldn’t have gotten to bed until God knows what time.

They had accomplished something tremendous tonight, but no one could stop the rule that classes must resume the next day. Harry felt sluggish throughout Potions class, but Ernie came up to him voluntarily and asked when he’d draft the petition.

“We need to find a time for another meeting,” Harry yawned. “Or if you’d prefer, you could write it for us.”

During the second Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall, acting as headmistress, announced news that nearly made Ron faint.

“Classes continue now to ensure your education proceeds,” she said sternly. “Therefore, exams will proceed as scheduled, and I trust you will study diligently.”

“I strongly suggest adding the cancellation of exams to the petition,” Ron muttered as they left the classroom.

“Oh, Ron, didn’t we go to all that trouble to bring Dumbledore back precisely so Hogwarts wouldn’t close?” Harry urged him. “Besides, you don’t want your mother finding out you’ve learned nothing, do you?”

“Can you imagine taking an exam with this?” Ron tapped his head. “This contains nothing useful for the exams.”

“Relax, Ron, relax,” Harry squeezed his shoulders. “I’ll help you review and predict the questions, just like last term.”

The news of the exams consumed most of Harry’s thoughts, pushing the truth about the Chamber to the corner of his mind. He barely carved out time from his study schedule to finish his report on the Chamber case and managed to send it to Humphrey at the Ministry; after that, in his mind, the only thing left to care about this year was the exams.

After matters had settled, Neville asked to borrow Harry’s Invisibility Cloak to continue investigating the truth behind the Chamber attacks. Harry readily agreed—he knew that under the watchful eyes of teachers and prefects, openly appearing on campus made any investigation impossible.

Just a few days after they ventured into the Forbidden Forest and submitted their report, Harry saw Humphrey’s reply in the Daily Prophet.

That morning’s breakfast was lively; many children had seen the front-page headline declaring the Chamber case had been fully resolved.

“Look here,” Percy leaned over to Ron and read dryly, “...as early as the first attack, Dumbledore established a special subcommittee under the Student Council to handle Chamber-related matters.”

“I mean, why didn’t I know anything about this?” Percy said, touching his prefect badge. “The Student Council told me nothing.”

“Oh, because it was formed in secret,” Harry explained with a smile.

“Is this true?” Professor McGonagall asked, frowning as she stepped closer to Harry. “It says here that Dumbledore instructed you to lead the centaurs to purge the monster from the Chamber?”

“Of course—it was all thanks to Dumbledore’s arrangements,” Harry said, feeling like he was holding a press conference.

“Dumbledore stated that had the Board of Governors not urgently requested his assistance with other matters, he would have handled the Chamber issue himself. He will conclude his external affairs within one to two months and return to resume his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts,” Ron read aloud from the article’s end. “Dumbledore’s coming back!”

“Well, I suppose that’s Dumbledore,” McGonagall sighed in relief. “He always finds a way.”

“Professor McGonagall, Professor McGonagall!” Wood rushed over. “I mean, since the Chamber incident is resolved, can we hold the Quidditch final after all?”

“Of course,” McGonagall smiled. “I’ve waited seven years for that cup—but we’ll need good weather, won’t we?”

“Come on, Harry, you haven’t forgotten what the Snitch looks like, have you?” Wood clapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Of course I haven’t. I’ll prove who’s the best Seeker at Hogwarts,” Harry punched his fist against Wood’s.

At lunch, McGonagall announced that the school-wide lockdown was over: students no longer needed teachers to accompany them to class, prefects no longer needed extra patrols, and the Chamber victims only had to wait another month—the Mandrakes would be fully grown.

When Harry returned to his dormitory with a cheerful expression, he found Hermione waiting for him solemnly in the common room.

“Donald told me the spiders in the Forbidden Forest aren’t the real monster—we can’t let our guard down,” she said.

“It’s fine, Hermione. Think of it this way: why did the Chamber’s opener launch these attacks?” Harry said. “If she truly wanted to target Muggle-borns indiscriminately, the frequency would be far higher. But if it was for some political purpose, then everything we’ve done has already shattered his scheme.”

“But we still don’t know who orchestrated the attacks—if he plans to strike again—” Hermione worried.

“Neville’s still investigating. I’ll do what I can to help,” Harry said, tired of endless speculation, lie-detection, and fruitless brooding. “For me, I’ve run out of leads.”

“It’s strange that Hermione isn’t focused on the exams,” Ron said dismissively.

“Shh, that’s because you’re not on the attack list,” Harry nudged Ron irritably. “For Hermione, she still fears she might be the next victim.”

“It shouldn’t matter, though—you said continuing the attacks would be pointless now, right?” Ron scratched his head. “Besides, when Penelope was attacked, the diary was safely stored, and you were with me—so the only suspect left was the spiders.”

“Who knows?” Harry truly didn’t want to think about the Chamber anymore. “You’d better pay attention to this section—Demon Emeryk and Ogre Egbert—they’re easy to mix up…”

“Come on, exams are two hundred years away,” Ron grumbled as he copied notes, still more interested in adventure.

If the exam week was still at the end of June, there were indeed two months to study. To Ron, that was no different from two hundred years. But Harry no longer wanted to waste another thought on the Chamber—he was trying, through exam prep, to return to normal school life.

Soon, Wood received word: Professor McGonagall had set the Quidditch final for May 8th. Divination predicted rain that day, but Gryffindor still had strong performance in wet weather, and Wood believed McGonagall was favoring them.

In fact, due to Britain’s rainy climate, many Quidditch matches were played in the rain; Hogwarts merely tried to schedule official matches on sunny days for the children’s health.

Other houses’ teams, if rain fell on their scheduled training day, usually canceled—sometimes reluctantly training anyway—but Wood exploited this to force Gryffindor into extra rain training.

Thanks to this, Harry became highly skilled at flying in the rain; now he could fly as fast in rain as in sunshine, and with his glasses’ help, even as rain soaked players to the skin, he could still spot the Snitch in moments.

Rain was also ideal for late-game strategy: both the Quaffle and brooms grew slippery, slowing the match’s pace. Wood had analyzed Hufflepuff’s tactics: unlike Slytherin, who occasionally used Chasers and Beaters to protect their Seeker in a 4-1 formation, Hufflepuff’s Seeker often had to protect all four. If Cedric couldn’t pressure the opposing Seeker into calling for Beater support, their Chasers would remain at a disadvantage.

“Being a Keeper on that team is like prison,” Wood said.

Harry deeply admired Cedric; without him, Hufflepuff could never have achieved what they had. Looking back at their victories, every single one had been won by their Seeker. When opposing teams rushed to overpower Hufflepuff head-on and score more points, Cedric—unopposed—always found the Snitch first.

But Wood was confident in this match. Harry was one of the few Seekers who could match Cedric head-to-head; their flying skills were nearly equal. Harry might have more natural talent for finding the Snitch, but Cedric had far greater strategic experience and team awareness. If left to their own devices, it was anyone’s guess who’d win. But this time, Wood’s task for Harry was simple: just keep Cedric from catching the Snitch. Gryffindor needed at least 210 points before the match ended to surpass Slytherin’s total.

Gryffindor’s Chasers, honed through countless rainy practices, faced Hufflepuff’s weak offensive Chasers. Wood repeatedly warned his team: don’t get injured before the match. He sensed, perhaps intuitively, that the school still wasn’t truly safe—he was extremely cautious, rarely leaving the common room except for training.

When Zhang Qiu heard Harry was competing in the crucial final, she cheerfully offered to make him a traditional Chinese “lucky beef noodle soup.” Ginny betrayed her, and Wood ruthlessly shut it down—he feared it might give Harry a stomachache.

Finally, the seven-year-awaited final opened on that rainy May day; Harry felt his hair plastered to his forehead, his robes nearly soaked through, yet his heart burned with unprecedented excitement.