Look at your school of witchcraft and wizardry. Now look at mine. Now yours. Now back to mine. Sadly, your school is not mine, but if you all got off your broomsticks and started using a real sorcerer’s deodorant, it could smell like mine. Abracadabra! I’m a horse.
It got better.
Look down, back up - where are you? You’re in a House with the wizard your man could smell like. What’s in your hand? Back at me. I have it. It’s a Horcrux with two clues to that thing you shouldn’t be messing with anyway. Look again - the clues are now Golden Snitches; you’ve won the match. Twice.
Anything is possible when your man smells like wizardry and not a Death Eater.