The Chaser Tangled by a Snake

Flint's frustration reached its peak after Roger Davis managed to score yet another goal for Ravenclaw.

He yelled furiously at his goalkeeper, Miles Blige: "What are those two holes under your eyebrows for?! You can see the snake clearly, but can't you spot a Quaffle that size? Even a substitute's slipping past you!"

Blige, cheeks flushed from both exertion and embarrassment, muttered a quiet apology but kept glaring daggers at Roger Davis, who was flying through the air with surprising ease.

The new substitute, Roger, seemed untouchable. He zipped around the pitch effortlessly, catching passes from his teammates and slipping through Slytherin's defenses with uncanny agility. At one point, Blige made a desperate attempt to block a shot, stretching as far as he could from his broom, but the Quaffle soared right past his fingertips and clanged through the hoop.

"Ravenclaw scores, ten points!"

...

Roger's arrival on the pitch seemed to have turned the tide. Ravenclaw quickly gained momentum, scoring several goals in rapid succession and pulling level with Slytherin. The crowd, once focused on the Seekers, began paying more attention to Roger's movements. His condition was excellent, possibly due to the excitement of finally playing in a real match.

"Ravenclaw should make him a regular!" some spectators remarked. "At this rate, they might beat Slytherin with just the Quaffle alone."

Anthony overheard the chatter, and he wasn't the only one. The Slytherins sitting in the stands were visibly seething. Their team had already drawn with Gryffindor, and if they lost to Ravenclaw now, their hopes for the Quidditch Cup this year would all but vanish.

High above, the enormous Slytherin banner rippled in the breeze. The snake's crimson eyes gleamed ominously, watching the Ravenclaw Chaser who had captured the audience's admiration. As the snake slithered along the edges of the pitch, it seemed to be waiting, silently, for the perfect moment to strike.

"Slytherin scores, ten points!"

"Ravenclaw scores, ten points!"

When the Chaser in the blue jersey threw the Quaffle again, the stands erupted. The crowd chanted Roger's name, and one overly excited spectator even rushed to the commentator's desk. The match was being narrated by a Hufflepuff student, who hadn't said a word since the Slytherin flag was raised. People suspected he had been too frightened and might have fainted. However, he suddenly announced loudly to the whole audience: "Eagles eat snakes!"

Professor Flitwick quickly caught the spectator in the act, and the Ravenclaw supporters all began chanting in unison: "Eagle eats snake! Eagle eats snake!"

"Eat!" shouted Hagrid, his voice booming over the ominous hissing of the snake. The result of Anthony's spellwork was that, besides the Slytherin stands, the giant snake could also raise its upper body behind him, spending most of its time moving between these two places.

Harry glanced back, frowning at the massive snake. His focus shifted to the pitch, a look of concern crossing his face for the first time.

At that moment, Roger flew past like the wind, catching up to Slytherin's Chaser and snatching the Quaffle right out of his opponent's hands. He swiftly passed the ball through a gap to his teammates, just before the Slytherin players could surround him.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Ron asked absentmindedly, his envious gaze locked on Roger.

Roger, seeing Anthony in the stands, waved proudly before showing off by doing a somersault on his broom.

"Didn't any of you hear that?" Harry asked urgently. "It just said—"

His voice was drowned out by the gasps of the crowd.

Roger's broom veered wildly into the sky as a huge snake, its body as thick as a tree trunk, coiled around him.

Roger gripped the snake's neck—or what passed for a neck—and tried to push it away. The serpent, with its gaping mouth, snapped at his hands while tightening its grip on him.

The giant snake that had been featured on the dark green banners around the stadium had disappeared.

"Davis!" Ron groaned. "Oh no."

As Roger completed his somersault and raised his broom to rejoin his teammates, Anthony felt something rush over his head. When he looked up, he saw the same giant snake—not as terrifying as the one on the banner, but still formidable—landing on Roger's broom with perfect accuracy.

The sharp whistle blew, and Madam Hooch signaled for a timeout. She raised her wand, pointing it directly at Roger Davis, who was entangled with the massive snake in mid-air.

"Roger Davis' jersey, fly!" she shouted, quickly spitting out her whistle.

At the same time, Professor Flitwick, standing near the Ravenclaw stands, yelled, "Roger Davis' jersey is coming!" His voice was high-pitched, his wand already out as he began taking quick action.

The entire crowd stood up in unison. Even those who couldn't see the struggle quickly understood the severity of the situation from the gasps and murmurs around them. The air buzzed with tension as everyone focused on Roger's desperate fight against the serpent.

Roger's jersey had become tangled and torn during the scuffle with the snake. His arms were pinned tightly to his sides, and he hung precariously upside down from his broom. He appeared to be frozen in the air for a moment, his robes flapping in the wind like tattered flags.

Suddenly, bits of blue cloth from his torn jersey shot out from the serpent's cold, coiled body. The scraps flew across the field, hurtling toward Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick as quickly as a Golden Snitch.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Anthony called out, his wand pointed at Roger. The piece of cloth that Madam Hooch had grabbed grew larger, and soon it was floating beneath Roger, ready to catch him.

Professor Flitwick had scrambled to the top of the stands, his tiny frame leaning precariously as he waved his wand with furious determination. His hat was askew, and he shouted angrily, "Strength is strong, force is loose! Strength is strong, force is loose!" His wand moved rapidly, the spell hitting the snake wrapped around Roger. The serpent shuddered, loosening its coils from around Roger, and its tail released its grip on the broom.

"Professor, I—" Roger gasped, struggling to free himself as he shouted toward Flitwick in the distance. "I can't hold on any longer!"

The crowd held their breath as they watched Roger fight the snake with all his remaining strength. With the snake now weaker from the spells cast by Flitwick and Anthony, Roger managed to release his legs from the broom. As the broom wobbled wildly in the air like a deflating balloon, it spiraled downward and crashed to the ground.

Anthony maintained the levitation spell, guiding Roger safely into the cushion of blue fabric. As soon as Roger landed, Madam Hooch quickly took over, transforming the large cloth into a soft cushion that gently settled the Ravenclaw Chaser on the ground.

Professor Flitwick rushed over, while Anthony applied a few quick spells. In cases like this, the immediate danger wasn't just the snake but the potential for falling or suffocation, so quick action was necessary. Rather than taking the crowded stairs, Anthony decided to jump from the stands, following Professor Flitwick's example. Although the landing was rough, he stood up calmly, aided by the self-healing properties taught at Hogwarts.

With Madam Hooch heading to fetch Madam Pomfrey, Anthony and Professor Flitwick conducted a quick check on Roger. Thankfully, they found no severe injuries. The combined efforts of the professors had eased the struggle against the snake.

"Davis, Davis!" Anthony called, examining him closely. "Good news—the snake isn't venomous. Have you been bitten?"

Roger, still catching his breath, replied through gritted teeth, "Right arm."

Anthony wasted no time. A rope shot from his wand and wrapped around the snake's snout, preventing it from doing further harm. "Quick confinement!"

Anthony tugged firmly on both ends of the rope. With a strange friction sound, the snake's mouth reluctantly closed. To be safe, he wound the rope several more times, almost covering the snake's eyes entirely.

The challenge now was how to remove this tree-thick serpent from Roger's body. Both Anthony and Professor Flitwick quickly realized that the snake was exceptionally strong and surprisingly resistant to magic.

"Loosen your grip and release!" Professor Flitwick yelled, pointing his wand at the snake. "Evanesco!"

The spell struck the snake's scales with a clear, metallic ring. The snake turned its head abruptly, glaring at Professor Flitwick with a menacing look. Seizing the moment, Flitwick slapped its nose hard.

"Blast it! Aha, it's an alchemical creation!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed as he noticed a dent finally appear on the snake's otherwise flawless scales.

Just then, Hagrid came thundering down the stairs. Without hesitation, he grabbed the snake's head with one massive hand, then hoisted Roger up, attempting to peel the snake off him like unwinding a ball of yarn.

"Wait!"

"Stop, Hagrid, stop!" Professor Flitwick shouted, jumping up to help the student, who was now bruised from the constriction.

The magically enhanced snake writhed furiously, tightening its grip on Roger with every movement. Despite Flitwick and Anthony's efforts, their spells had little effect.

"Alright," Professor Flitwick sighed, raising his wand again before hesitating, a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"Wait, Professor!" Anthony interjected loudly, "Who enchanted the flag?"

He knew what Professor Flitwick was about to do — the same thought had been circling in his own mind for some time. But unlike other injuries, the effects of dark magic couldn't always be reversed. At such close proximity, Roger might suffer unintended consequences. Moreover, although it was an open secret that Hogwarts professors researched dark magic in private, it was not something to be displayed in front of students unless absolutely necessary.

Under the watchful eyes of both students and staff, Pansy Parkinson, her face paling, raised her trembling hands as all eyes fell on her.

"Miss Parkinson," Anthony said sternly.

"I... I only wanted to create something to boost morale," she stammered. "I didn't know... I didn't think... It was the shop that usually handles the crest for our manor." She glanced at Anthony nervously, her voice growing increasingly frantic. "I'll contact them immediately!"

She began pushing through the crowd, desperate to escape.

"Miss Parkinson! You can't just—" Professor Flitwick began angrily.

"Professor Snape?" Pansy called out, cutting him off. The crowd parted as Snape, dressed in his characteristic black robes, pushed his way to Roger Davis. He raised an eyebrow, amused by the scene before him.

"Miss Davis," Snape said quietly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do enlighten me: from which angle did you conclude this..." he glanced at the snake, its mouth tied with rope, "...poor creature is venomous?"

Tracy Davis, worriedly watching her brother lying on the cushion, replied, "I'm sorry, Professor Snape, I must have been mistaken." She looked anxiously at Anthony and Professor Flitwick, who were still trying to assist Hagrid in gently pulling the snake off Roger. Roger, at this point, had given up the struggle and lay there, letting them untangle him.

"How charming. I must have missed the part where Quidditch rules changed and now involve wrestling with serpents," Snape quipped. "I'll leave you all to your game then."

"Snape, for the sake of the Quidditch Cup, help us out!" Anthony pleaded.

Snape waved his wand dismissively. "Ah, yes, the poor thing's strength is drained. Shall I release it into the Forbidden Forest, then? How magnanimous of me."

"Severus, this isn't the time for your sarcasm!" Professor Flitwick snapped. "This is a highly advanced alchemical creation. Most spells have no effect on it."

"A fine display of Charms work indeed," Snape retorted mockingly. "Forgotten your title, Filius? Or that you're the Charms professor and a recipient of the Charms Society's Lifetime Achievement Award? But no, let's leave it to St. Flitwick and St. Anthony to figure it out."

At that moment, Harry Potter, Ron, and Hermione managed to squeeze to the front of the gathering. Snape's eyes immediately landed on Harry.

"And of course, here's Potter," Snape sneered. "Always at the center of trouble, aren't you?"

Harry glared at him but held back a retort, thanks to Hermione's quiet urging.

"Is Davis alright?" Ron asked, his concern evident.

"Oh, brilliant, thanks for asking, Weasley," Roger replied, still managing a grin despite his predicament. "You see, not every Chaser gets this kind of attention—a snake, three professors..."

"Indeed, quite the spectacle," Snape interrupted. "Tell me, Potter, are you jealous? After all, a possessed broom was enough for you last time. Is a snake too much?"

"I'm not jealous!" Harry shouted, indignant at the accusation.

"Relax, Snape," Anthony interjected, trying to refocus Snape on the task at hand.

Snape leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with disdain. "Ah, so you've come up with a brilliant plan to rescue Davis from this little predicament, have you, Potter?"