Elliot emerged from the tunnel, brushing the dust from his coat. He raised his wand and made his way toward the counter — only to be confronted with a strange scene.
The boy had vanished.
The rope binding him had been snapped, and a butterbeer mug lay shattered on the floor.
Elliot bent down to examine the area and said to Michael,
"Looks like he escaped."
Michael, his expression suspicious, muttered,
"Come on then— before he gets too far."
But Elliot shook his head.
"No use. By now, he's probably already lost himself in the streets. Let's check his things instead."
He started toward the upper floor.
The upstairs of the inn was a small, shabby room that had long served as the innkeeper's personal quarters.
The place was dusty and filthy; large white rats scurried in and out of the corners.
There was only a battered bed, a rickety nightstand, and an old wardrobe.
On the nightstand sat a dusty photograph of a boy standing beside a girl with long black hair — untouched for years.
Elliot quickly moved to the desk, yanking open its drawers and rifling through them — but found nothing more than useless junk.
Just as he was about to give up, something caught his eye under the desk.
A small piece of parchment.
He picked it up, held it to the light, and called over to Michael, who was still inspecting the wardrobe.
"It's a coded note," Elliot said.
Large letters on the parchment read:
Solve my riddle and I will open.
Elliot read the riddle aloud:
The sun will rise from eastern skies,
I from the west in shadow fly.
You've never seen my ghostly face,
For death has not yet touched your place.
Michael took the parchment and studied it carefully.
After a few seconds, he said,
"I think it's talking about a Thestral."
As he spoke, the golden letters shimmered and faded — revealing a second message, written in strange handwriting with fresh ink.
Michael read aloud:
"Come meet me tonight in the Forbidden Forest."
***
Arya placed her bag on the table and let out a long sigh.
Scorpius and Albus sat down opposite her.
"Still nervous about the match tonight?" Scorpius asked.
"But you've been practicing so much."
While pulling books out of her bag, Arya replied,
"It's not about practice. It's my broom. Aaron's broom isn't very good, and naturally, that's going to put me behind James."
Albus shrugged.
"I think skill matters more than the broom."
Arya gave a wry smile.
"Well, even from that point of view, James is a better Seeker than me."
She grabbed a piece of cake with little enthusiasm.
Then, after a pause, she asked,
"You don't happen to know any weakness your brother has, do you? Like an allergy, or something he's sensitive to?"
Scorpius immediately cut her off,
"That's not fair play!"
Arya stared into his green eyes, serious.
"Quidditch isn't a fair game, Scorpius. It's brutal. If you want fair games, go watch Muggle football — though, honestly, even that's brutal in America!"
She gave a small smile.
For a moment, they were all silent.
Arya then added casually,
"Once, a Bludger hit me straight in the stomach. I couldn't leave the hospital wing for a month."
Scorpius shook his head in disapproval.
"That still doesn't mean you should exploit someone's weakness."
Arya, still munching on her cake, said nothing.
It was Albus who finally said,
"To be honest... I think he does have a weakness.
A few years ago, during a match, he fell badly on his left arm.
His elbow's still bad — sometimes I see him rubbing it when it hurts."
Scorpius shot them both a furious look but kept silent.
The rest of lunch passed in awkward, uncomfortable silence.
***
Arya stood inside the locker room, her heart pounding fiercely.
Only a few minutes remained until the start of the match.
She tried to steady her breathing, but the sound of the roaring crowd beyond the pitch filled her ears, making it harder.
She felt the enormous weight of expectation — if she failed, it wouldn't just be herself she would disappoint, but her entire team.
So caught up was she in her own thoughts that she barely registered Epidorus giving a motivational speech to the players.
"Arya? Arya!" Epidorus called out.
Startled, she looked up.
Epidorus gave her a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry. All you need to do is delay Potter from catching the Snitch. Let our Chasers build up the points. Then — you grab it."
Arya nodded tightly, took a deep breath, and followed the others out.
The sky was overcast, and a cool wind whipped across the pitch — but thankfully, there was no rain.
The captains shook hands, the whistle blew, and the players launched into the air.
Arya felt much better once she was airborne.
The cold wind tugged at her hair, and she could feel the rush of it on her face.
The match was brutal from the start —
the Chasers shot across the field at lightning speed,
the Beaters swung wildly at Bludgers,
and the Seekers — Arya and James — hovered cautiously, scanning for any sign of the Golden Snitch.
Suddenly, a faint buzzing noise brushed Arya's ear.
The Snitch.
Behind her.
She spun sharply — but at the same moment, she sensed James coming from behind too.
Both sped after the Snitch.
James was faster —
closing the gap rapidly.
Arya, gritting her teeth, made a bold move —
with her right hand, she slammed her fist hard into his injured left elbow.
James lost control, tumbling downward for a few moments before regaining his balance.
Arya reached out for the Snitch —
but a Bludger zipped past her hand, and she was forced to grab her broom with both hands to stay upright.
By the time she looked again, the Snitch had vanished.
***
Meanwhile, in the stands, Albus and Scorpius were watching intently.
The crowd roared and cheered,
green and red banners flashing across the stands.
Scorpius, growing uneasy, unfolded the Marauder's Map and studied it.
His eyes widened.
"Albus!" he shouted over the noise.
"Arya's father — he's back at the castle!"
Albus, distracted by the game, barely heard him.
Scorpius shook him.
"And he's not alone! There's a Michael Corner with him!"
Albus narrowed his eyes.
"We need to check this out."
Scorpius hesitated.
"Are you sure? It could just be part of a search — Arya's gonna be furious if we leave."
Albus said firmly,
"If it were Arya, she'd have gone."
Without another word, he pushed his way through the crowd, Scorpius reluctantly following.
They hurried towards the Forbidden Forest, glancing back at the Marauder's Map.
***
Elliot and Michael were already deep within, but heading back.
Albus and Scorpius crept up behind a massive tree, pressing themselves against the trunk and listening carefully.
The voices grew louder.
Michael said:
"No trace. Strange, isn't it?"
Elliot replied grimly,
"I think the kid tipped them off. But if they arranged a meeting inside the Forbidden Forest ... then they must still be at Hogwarts."
Michael muttered,
"Guess we'll have to search the castle again. Even if it means the dormitories."
The two men's footsteps retreated.
Albus began to move — but a sudden noise stopped him.
A raven landed behind their tree — and transformed into a man.
They couldn't see his face clearly, only his messy dark hair as he moved away.
Scorpius quickly glanced down at the Map.
There, etched in magical ink, a new name had appeared:
Robert Pearson.
Scorpius gasped.
"Who the heck is Robert Pearson?"
Albus shook his head.
"No idea."
***
Back on the Quidditch pitch, Arya hovered high above the game.
Slytherin was leading 110 to 70 — but it was close.
Across the field, James Potter clutched his injured left arm, glaring at her furiously.
Arya forced herself to refocus.
She had done well blocking him so far, but the match had dragged on — the players were exhausted.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it —
the Snitch.
Spinning gently mid-field, catching the last rays of light.
Arya dove at once.
James saw it too and hurtled toward her.
They flew headlong at each other, neither willing to yield.
The Snitch dipped lower —
and both Seekers plunged after it.
The crowd held its breath.
CRASH!
They collided midair — and crashed to the ground.
Gasps and screams echoed across the stands.
Professors and medics sprinted onto the pitch.
Arya lay dazed, her head pounding, blood trickling down her temple.
But in her hand — she felt something small and solid.
With shaking fingers, she opened her palm —
The Golden Snitch floated free, fluttering its wings.
An explosion of cheers erupted from the Slytherin stands.
Arya managed a weak smile — before darkness claimed her once more.
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