In the Ravenclaw tower, a tense atmosphere loomed over Ben as he racked his brain for a way out of the mess he had found himself in. His mind raced faster than a Nimbus 2000 as he pondered various scenarios, trying to find an excuse that would get him out of trouble.

'Should I ingest some Frostbite Venom and act sick? No, if I get caught, it's gonna make things worse,' Ben thought, on the verge of self-harm. Meanwhile, Michael and Terry were having the time of their lives, watching Ben's face lose all colour.

But it was Michael who finally broke the silence with a burst of laughter, followed by Terry. "Bahh, I can't hold it any longer," he said between gasps for breath.

"You rascals!" Ben exclaimed, finally realizing that the two boys were pulling a prank on him.

"You should see the look on your face, mate. It's as if you've just seen a dementor," Terry said, pointing at Ben's face.

"That's not funny at all!" Ben said, feeling angry but relieved at the same time.

"Oh, it is. I've never seen you sweating like that," Michael said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Did you really think we'd be worried about you? You sneak out every night, probably to the Restricted Section of the Library if we know you at all," Terry added, trying to contain his laughter.

"You guys knew?" Ben asked, shocked.

"Of course, we knew. How dumb would we have to be not to notice you missing every night?" Michael said, still chuckling.

Ben realized that he had underestimated these little buggers. He would have to start brewing the Dreamless Sleep Potion or perhaps find a spell to put people to sleep.

"We would get Flitwick if you missed the Quidditch match, though," Terry said, wiping his tears from all the laughing.

Ben remembered that it was the last match of the year today, Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw. Without their young seeker on the team, Gryffindor was like a dying old lion, just waiting to become food for the ravens.

"Just give me some time to freshen up," Ben said and rushed towards the boy's washroom.

"Don't take too long, or the best seats will be taken!" Michael yelled after him, still laughing.

--

Ben set up his table on the edge of the field, not far from the Gryffindor stands. It was the last match of the season, and the air was charged with excitement. People were streaming into the stadium, looking for the best spot to watch the game.

Ben didn't care much about the game itself. He was there for a different reason. He was a professional bookie now, and he was looking to make some money. He called out to the passing crowd, offering great odds on the wounded lion somehow surviving against the ravens today.

"Come on, people! This could be the day you win big. Anyone confident of the Gryffindor's win or just looking to test their luck is welcome to place a bet. Don't be shy, come and try your luck!" he shouted.

Most people ignored him, but some were curious. They walked over to his table and placed small bets. Ben smiled and took their money. He knew that if he wanted to make any real money, he'd have to rile up the Gryffindors. But he didn't want to push them too far and risk getting punched in the face.

As he was setting up, he noticed a small girl charging down the stands with a freckled boy in tow. She looked displeased, and Ben figured she was probably just having a very bad hair day.

"I cannot believe how insensitive you are," she said as she approached his table.

"Ah, nice to see you, Ms Granger. Would you like to place a bet? I personally don't think that Gryffindor stands a chance today," he said with a smile, ignoring the look on her face.

"Harry's lying unconscious in the Hospital wing, and all you care about is making money, you didn't even visit him," she said, looking even more disappointed.

Ben wasn't fazed. "You heard her folks! She doesn't think Gryffindor stands a chance without their Golden Boy. Anyone who would like to disagree?" he announced to the small crowd that was starting to gather around him.

"I'll show you disagreement," Ron almost leapt at him with bawling fists, but Hermione stopped him.

"You can't show any disagreements, Weasley, you're broke. Now, clear the way for people with fat wallets," Ben said nonchalantly. While he didn't hate the boy, he was getting tired of Ron finding beef with him again and again. And he didn't even like beef.

Ron's face went red with embarrassment. If it weren't for Hermione holding him back, he would have lunged at Ben like a weasel.

"How could you?" said Hermione, looking hurt.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, will you?" Ben said, rolling his eyes, "He is broke and so am I, and I will stay broke if you don't stop interrupting my business," he said, shooing them away while collecting more bets.

"Mister Brown, what do you think you are doing here," said a tall woman in emerald green robes, coming towards the Gryffindor stands.

"Good day, Professor McGonagall, how would you like to place some bets, I feel Gryffindor stands great odds of winning the Quidditch Cup this year," he said with a smile, rubbing his palms like a slimy salesman.

"I can't be doing that," she said shocked at his invitation, "And It would do you well to remember that betting is against school rules," she said sternly and with a wave of her wand, she vanished his betting table along with the few sickles and knuts he had managed to collect till now.

"Oh come on professor, Quidditch is no fun without something on the line," Ben protested to Professor McGonagall.

"Something IS on the line, Mr Brown, and it's your house's reputation," McGonagall replied with a stern look.

"But-" Ben opened his mouth to argue, but the professor cut him off.

"Enough. I recommend you don't attempt this again, Mr Brown, unless you want to spend long hours in detention with me," she said and left towards the top stands.

Ben couldn't resist one last comment as McGonagall walked away. "I would love to spend time with you, Professor. If you were fifty years younger," he muttered under his breath.

Glancing over at Hermione's smug face, Ben couldn't help but feel like she had something to do with McGonagall's sudden appearance. He let out a heavy sigh. His debut as a bookie had been a disaster. He had dreams of creating a successful betting empire, but all of his dreams had been crushed in one go. Now he would have to go back to being sneaky and betting with the older students.

"Forget it. Let's just relax today," Ben thought to himself as he took a seat next to Hermione, who always seemed to enjoy ruining everyone's fun.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have money to make?" Hermione sneered at him.

Ben cursed silently to himself, trying to calm his temper. "You shouldn't hit kids... you shouldn't hit girls," he repeated to himself like a mantra.

As the Gryffindor team was steamrolled by Ravenclaw, Ben almost felt bad for the lions. But at the same time, he couldn't help feeling vindicated as he watched Hermione and Ron's drooping heads. Even the Ravenclaw players couldn't believe the margin of their victory. It was a shameful sight for all Lions. The worst part was that Gryffindor had suffered their worst defeat in 300 years, and Ben had earned nothing for it.