Chapter 54: Quirrell exploded!

At this moment, on the Quidditch pitch, Harry's broomstick was jerking and twisting violently, gradually carrying him away from the range of the pitch.

"I wonder what Harry's doing," Hagrid muttered from the stands, watching intently through his binoculars. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have..."

Hagrid didn't understand the severity of the situation; he merely thought Harry was employing some special tactic.

Suddenly, however, everyone in the stands turned their attention towards Harry, as his Nimbus Two Thousand began bucking and rolling uncontrollably, forcing him to cling on tightly to avoid being thrown off.

The Nimbus Two Thousand then gave a tremendous, sickening jerk, nearly flinging Harry off completely. In that perilous moment, Harry managed to grasp the broom with only one hand, hanging precariously in mid-air.

"It's probably just a wobble in the broom after Flint smashed into him," Seamus said in a hushed voice.

"Can't be," said Hagrid, his voice shaking slightly. "Nothing can interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic -- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At Hagrid's words, Hermione's eyes widened as if she had found the right track. She seized Hagrid's binoculars but instead of looking up at Harry, she frantically scanned the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, grey-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape -- look!"

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Irina stopped Hermione, saying, "Wait, Hermione, look!"

Irina turned Hermione's head, and she gasped in shock. "Professor Quirrell?!"

Hermione could scarcely believe it. In her mind, Quirrell was a timid, stuttering fool -- hardly the type to jinx Harry. He had no quarrel with Harry, unlike Snape who seemed to despise the boy.

Irina nodded. "Yes, not just Snape, but Quirrell too. He's staring at Harry and seems to be muttering some kind of spell!"

But before Irina could analyze further, Ron, who had the binoculars trained on Quirrell, exclaimed loudly, "I know! It's Snape jinxing Harry's broom, and the cowardly Quirrell is trying to counter the curse in secret, silently helping his student. What a good man Quirrell is!"

Irina facepalmed. "Brilliant analysis, Ron. Next time, please don't."

She patted Ron's shoulder sagely. "Hermione, let me handle this. My magic skills are a bit better."

Before Hermione could protest, Irina pushed through the crowd towards the staff stands, ostensibly to stop Snape, but with the real intention of ambushing Quirrell to disrupt his counter-curse.

Alas, my dear Snape, this is as far as I can help you!

Irina sighed inwardly. She struggled through the throngs until she was near Snape and Quirrell, then stealthily drew her wand, ready to cast a spell.

At the same time, over a hundred meters away in the Slytherin stands, Linn gazed towards the staff area, clutching a metal block. As he channeled his magic into the block, the corners of his mouth curled upwards.

"Three... two... one... release!"

Snap!

Linn counted down softly, then snapped his fingers forcefully on the final count.

BOOM! At the staff stands, the alchemy bomb planted beneath Quirrell's seat received the magic signal and detonated violently. Horrific flames erupted, engulfing Quirrell and his chair. The massive shockwave slammed into Quirrell's backside, blasting him upwards.

An ear-shattering explosion rocked the area, yet strangely, the blast radius seemed confined to Quirrell's immediate vicinity.

Just a few meters away, Irina, who had been preparing an ambush, was startled by the deafening boom and nearly fell over.

"Yeaaarrrggghhhh..."

Under the force of the terrible blast, Quirrell was launched high into the air. After soaring over ten meters upwards, he plummeted headfirst towards the grassy Quidditch pitch below.

At the staff stands, Irina watched Quirrell's plight unfold, clutching her chest in lingering fright. Suddenly, her gaze turned towards the Slytherin stands, a dawning realization in her eyes.

Such a devastating yet localized explosion could only be the work of a highly skilled alchemist -- recalling the metallic blocks that had surrounded Linn that day, Irina couldn't help but connect this bombing to the enigmatic senior student. 

Was this merely a coincidence, or something more?

Irina pondered dubiously, but her expression soon turned resentful. That sudden blast had given her quite the scare!

Woe is me, I deserve compensation for emotional damages, I demand it!

High above the Quidditch pitch, Professor McGonagall had quickly cast a Arresto Momentum charm upon spotting her colleague's predicament, suspending Quirrell in mid-air. Otherwise, that headfirst plummet would have been fatal, beyond even magic's aid.

Quirrell trembled in shock, yet his terrified eyes held a sinister glint.

His backside was a bloody, mangled mess from the explosion. Thankfully, McGonagall had rushed over and ordered some nearby Gryffindor students to levitate Quirrell to the hospital wing.

As the students lifted the shredded Quirrell with a Mobilicorpus charm, blood gushed from his mouth and shattered legs -- he would undoubtedly require Skele-Gro to mend the pulverized bones. The impact had also severely battered his lungs.

Quirrell glared malevolently around the stands, trying in vain to identify his assailant.

"You useless fool, they planted the alchemy bomb right under your arse and you didn't even notice!" Voldemort's voice raged inside Quirrell's mind, berating his incompetence.

Meanwhile, at the Slytherin stands...

"Bloody hell, Quirrell exploded!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed bluntly upon witnessing the scene.

Linn shot him a sidelong glance, thinking, Suspected leak of modern weaponry!

(End of Chapter)