A/N: Well, here it is, finally. The end result of the vote was clearly in favour of 5k words chapters. As such, I'm releasing it now. It's actually a bit shorter than 5k, but the place where I got now was simply too good not to have as a chapter ending. There's a lot of new stuff here, and from now on, this story will deviate completely from the original timeline (as you will notice shortly ^^).
I know that this chapter took a lot longer to release than usual, even if it's only 5k words, but there's a rather good reason for that (and no, the fact that I'm 'slightly' addicted to Eve Online doesn't have anything to do with it. Oh wait, did I type that?)
The main reason for this delay is RL though, I've been incredibly busy with both my courses at school, preparing for my exams and my internship. Let me tell you, putting up a Full Drive Encryption and Data Loss Prevention system for the biggest hospital in Belgium is not easy. It's almost over though, only a month more or so and after that I'll (hopefully) have some more time.
In any case, enough with the rant. On with the story
Enjoy
Chapter 4
Harry swallowed heavily as he listened to Oliver's speech moments before he climbed onto his broom and took off into the air.
While he normally enjoyed flying with every fibre in his being, today was a bit different. It wasn't exactly common for the combined hopes of the entire Gryffindor house to be resting on his shoulders. They all depended on him catching the snitch to win. Sure, there were times that a team won even if they didn't catch the snitch, but with the Slytherin team being as good as they were, there was little chance of that happening.
He slowly circled the stands, trying to get his nerves under control. He smiled a bit as he saw his friends there, waving a flashing banner, trying to encourage him as much as possible.
"Right, I want a good clean match", madam Hooch she said, with an obvious glare at the Slytherin captain.
She whistled right before throwing the quaffle up into the air, and they were off.
While the Gryffindor chasers took hold of the ball, the Slytherins spread out, their beaters going for the bludgers while their chasers pursued their Gryffindor counterparts.
Within moments Harry was forced to go into a steep dive as he noticed a bludger coming straight for him at high speed.
"You alright there Harry?", Fred shouted as he returned the favour, sending the bludger rocketing towards one of the other team, grinning widely when it impacted with one of the Slytherin beaters.
"I'm fine", he shouted back as he pulled up, trying to gain as much height as possible.
He kept on watching the playing field as the game progressed, until he heard Flint, the Slytherin captain, shout loudly. Apparently, the snitch had just zoomed right in front of his nose, distracting him enough to make him drop the quaffle.
A flash of gold showed at the edge of his vision and without even thinking, Harry had started a nose-dive straight at the snitch.
He had been so focused on the little golden ball, that he didn't even notice when the Slytherin seeker pulled into position almost right next to him. Though he did notice it when two iron balls came barrelling in on a collision course.
Without even thinking, he pulled on his broom with all his might, placing his feet on the shaft as it was pulled nearly horizontal of its original course. Harry braced himself as his rocketing dive came to a sudden stop, causing the two balls to overshoot him and hit Terence Higgs, the Slytherin seeker, with a sickening crack.
"And a marvellous demonstration of the Hopling Skidbrake manoeuvre by Harry Potter, as he educates the Slytherin beaters why it's not a good idea to send bludgers towards the enemy seeker when your own is flying right next to him", Lee Jordan, who was taking care of the commentary, said with obvious glee in his voice.
Seeing his direct opponent get hit by the bludgers, Harry straightened out his broom and dove towards Higgs, grabbing him by the straps on his harness just as his broom gave out with a resounding snap. As the two now useless pieces of wood fell towards the ground, Harry braced himself, trying to keep a hold on the body of the much heavier Slytherin.
"Time-out, Time-out", Hooch shouted as she blew on her whistle. Apparently, the Slytherin chasers and beaters had simply continued their playing, ignoring their seeker's severely injured state.
Harry sighed heavily as Fred and George quickly came to his aid, helping him carry the seventh-year to the ground where madam Hooch was waiting.
"Will he be alright Madam?", he asked.
"I sure hope so", she replied, signalling for madam Pomfrey to come over and help him.
"He's unconscious", the mediwitch said as she took a hold of the boy, "several ribs fractured, broken arm and shoulder. He'll need at least three days of recovering in the hospital wing"
With utmost care she lifted him into the air and started moving away when she was stopped by Flint.
"Hey, what are we supposed to do without a seeker?", he shouted.
"You can either give up the match, or you can continue playing until the snitch is caught. If your seeker recovers before Mr. Potter manages to catch it, he is welcome to rejoin the game"
"That's ridiculous, how are we supposed to win without our seeker?"
"Don't you have a reserve seeker?"
"Why the hell would we need a reserve seeker?", Flint bellowed, "we Slytherin are stronger than that"
Madam Hooch looked disappointed as she heard that.
"Apparently Mr. Flint, you're mistaken in that assumption", she said before blowing the whistle again and indicated that the game could resume.
Moments after Harry was in the air, the whistle sounded again and the game was underway. This time, the two Slytherin beaters came rocketing towards him again, eager to inflict some damage. Apparently, they thought that they'd have a better chance at winning the game when they put Harry in the hospital wing as well. Fred and George quickly noticed this though, and soon a battle between the beaters erupted as each team tried to knock the other beaters off their brooms. As the rest of the game continued around him, Harry swerved between the players and bludgers, searching intently for the snitch. Looking at the things happening on the field, he had no doubt that another injury would occur shortly if he didn't end the game soon.
Spotting a glimpse of gold hovering right above the grass in the centre of the pitch, Harry went into a steep dive. The crowd had only just noticed his move by the time he shot back up into the sky, the snitch clasped firmly in his hand. Cheers erupted from all over the stadium, with the notable exception of the Slytherin stands, as Madam Hooch signalled the end of the match. His cheering teammates landed eagerly onto the pitch, ready to intercept their seeker when he came back down. They were absolutely intent on carrying their 'here for one day, or perhaps some more' on their hands towards the Gryffindor common room.
Though as Harry tried to come back down to where the rest of the team was waiting, his broom lurched a bit. Seeing the magic around it distort, he knew that something was wrong.
Tracing the streams back to their source, he was surprised to see that there were actually two people in the stands casting magic.
He noticed that the strand of magic interfering with his broom was actually coming from Quirrel, while Snape's incessant casting actually caused it to lose most of its power as it travelled from the Dark Arts teacher to his broom.
"What the?", he thought as he watched the two fight it out in what seemed to be a losing battle for Snape.
As he felt the lurching of his broom intensify bit by bit, Harry quickly realised that he needed to do something, otherwise he'd fall off of his broom in no time flat.
"Oh bugger", he swore under his breath as he remembered that his wand was safely tucked in his trunk. He knew he could handle some magic wandlessly, but still, he hadn't practiced it that much and the few times he had performed it, he'd been in a right inattentive state, that and he'd just intended to swat whatever was coming his way to somewhere else, not to do something specific such as cancel a charm, hex or whatever it was Quirrel was putting on his broom. Besides, it was always easier to avoid a chain rather than to try and break it. Still, it was better to just try rather than to end up as a Potter Pancake on the pitch.
Silently, he sent out his magic, trying to negate the effects on his broom. While initially successful ,he soon met his first obstacle though. Quirrel was an educated Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. As such, he knew what he was doing, even if he was someone that was supposedly a bit queer. Within moments, Quirrel had circumvented Harry's attempted defence and the lurching returned in full force.
"Damn", Harry muttered as he held on, his concentration gradually being forced away from spellcasting and towards his broom as it started to shake more and more.
As he watched Snape's futile attempts at breaking Quirrel's curse, he got an idea. Of course it should be easier to simply take away the source of the spell rather than to work against it when its effects were at their intended destination and thus, at full power.
Still, watching Snape cast spell after spell without any apparent effect did show him that simply intercepting the constant stream of magic coming out of Quirrel wouldn't be an easy task.
"Unless", he grinned as he silently gathered as much of his magic as he could, before sending it out. He knew that Quirrel would probably recognise any spell he sent towards the man, and most of all, just about every single spell he knew that could disrupt the man's attention was indicated by a rather colourful effect. Since he couldn't reveal his secret yet, he couldn't give any indication of him using magic.
He'd had a lot of practise with programming his magic somewhat, but what he was about to do was not something he'd done before.
Snape was getting tired. He'd been fighting the curse sent at Harry's broom for several minutes now, and it was gaining in power as his own attempts at dispelling it failed. He had no idea who was doing it, except that it was coming from somewhere amongst the teachers and visitors. The momentary relief he'd felt earlier was surprising, but he quickly forgot about it as the increasing difficulty monopolised his attention. Muttering counterspell after counterspell as fast as he could without attracting any attention, he kept on sending his magic towards the Potter boy.
He cursed lowly as he noticed his attempts fail, wishing that he'd practised a bit more on his wandless spellwork. Still, he couldn't use his wand, so it was the only possibility. Beside, even if the boy fell, he could probably cast a spell to slow his fall sufficiently so that he wouldn't die. Something not even the headmaster could do without his wand. Of course, that was because the headmaster didn't have any aptitude as a spell weave, but even Snape himself knew that his own abilities paled in comparison to that of a true weaver. While it was true that he had created a few spells, those were mostly still heavily modified versions of earlier spells, Sectumsempra for example, was nothing more than a severely overpowered Diffindo spell. That, and his wandless ability was limited only to more basic spells that were also rather underpowered for someone of his calibre.
He was distracted though when all of a sudden a massive surge of magic came out of the Potter boy. Even though he realised quickly enough that other people couldn't see the magic approach and that it wasn't aimed at him, his unconscious mind still made him duck and cover because of the sheer amount coming straight at the stand he was in.
Quirrel's eyes widened as suddenly he felt as if someone had just hit him with a massive sledgehammer. His brain barely had any time to register the impact before his body was literally pushed straight through the seats and out the back of the stand.
"Impossible", Snape breathed as he clambered upright, keeping his eyes on the DADA professor that was currently flying through the air in a graceful arc.
"Mobilicorpus", Dumbledore shouted, hurriedly pointing his wand at Quirrel. Too late though.
With a sickening thud, Quirrel smacked into the soil, a loud crack clearly indicating the breaking of a bone.
Harry stared at the professor with eyes open wide. He'd just intended to push Quirrel back a bit, to break his concentration and thus dispel the spell. He hadn't intended to kill the man.
As he slowly realised that he'd actually killed a man, even by accident, he felt bile rising in his throat. Swallowing heavily, he managed to suppress the feeling, but as he did so, he felt himself get weaker.
Just as Quirrel hit the ground, a piercing pain shot through his scar at the exact same moment that a vile green haze rose from the DADA professor's corpse. Darkness started to encroach onto his vision as the pain continued.
Unable to stop himself, Harry felt his grip on his broom go slack. A terrified scream was the last thing he heard before the world went black.
"I'm telling you headmaster, it was Potter that sent out the burst of magic that pushed Quirrel through the stand", a voice came tearing through the veil that covered his mind.
"Professor Snape, I'd appreciate it if you were to keep your voice down", another voice hissed, though this one was distinctly female.
"Madam Pomfrey, would you please leave us for a moment? I promise we'll keep out voices down. Severus, are you absolutely sure that the surge came from Harry?", a third voice now came through, though it was decidedly more silent than the previous two. It took Harry a while to realise that the people he was hearing were no other than Professor Snape and the Headmaster.
"Albus, you know that I have part of a spell weaver's ability", Snape continued, "and I'm telling you, Potter here has the exact same ability, though a lot more powerful than mine. My guess is that he's a true weaver"
Harry felt a surge of panic course through his body as he heard hit potions professor hit the mark straight on, but instead of jumping upright, he restrained himself. Obviously the two of them weren't aware that he was awake. Simply laying there would yield a lot more information for use in the future. He'd learned that the hard way whenever he'd been beaten by Dudley and his gang. If he simply pretended to be unconscious after a beating, he could usually figure out what they were going to try for the next time, and act appropriately.
"Hmmm, so it's as I suspected", Dumbledore mused, "ever since that meeting, I've been keeping an eye on young Harry here, and I must admit, he is extraordinarily talented at magical spells"
"And he is absolute rubbish at potions", Snape muttered.
"Ah yes, well that's to be expected isn't it Severus?", Dumbledore smiled, "true weavers were renowned for their casting, but not for their potionmaking"
"There is still the matter of one of our professors being murdered though. By none other than your golden boy here"
"I am aware of that. But I checked Quirrel's wand, and found that it had been used to cast the jinx used to make Harry's broom out of control. My guess is that he simply though he could defeat Quirrel by giving him a slight shove, but that he wrongly estimated his own powers"
"Even so he still killed someone Albus, the repercussions of this could be enormous. The whole school witnessed that he was killed through the use of magic. We're bound to have an investigation from the auror department at this rate"
"Severus, do not worry", Dumbledore continued, "you too noticed the green haze that left Professor Quirrel's body when he died didn't you?"
"Are you telling me that was the Dark Lord?"
"I'm afraid so", the headmaster continued, a grave look on his face, "I know the feeling of his magic well, after all, I was his teacher, and I've fought with him several times now. That was undoubtedly his magical signature. It is the reason why he tried to curse Harry's broom as well I believe"
Harry unconsciously frowned as he heard the two of them argue about what had happened. Apparently, the man that had killed his parents, and given him his scar, was back.
"But what do you intend to do then?"
"I will simply tell the authorities that I noticed one of my teachers attacking a student. I responded, but sadly enough I overestimated his powers"
"Albus, that's insane, what if they use veritaserum?", Snape exclaimed.
"Severus, have you ever known legilimency or veritaserum to work on me?", Dumbledore stated with a smile.
Snape grimaced a bit as he heard Dumbledore's words.
"What house were you in again headmaster? I could've sworn it was Slytherin", he said, though one of the corners of his mouth was twitching a bit, "In any case, I have a potions class to teach. I shall see you later"
Without wasting time, Snape turned around, heading out of the hospital wing, his cloak billowing behind him.
"Severus", Dumbledore's voice stopped the potions master just as he reached the door, "I'll need someone to teach him how to control his power"
"I won't teach him headmaster", Snape sighed, "but if you would let me make a suggestion, I know someone that would"
Seeing only a single raised eyebrow on Dumbledore's face in response, he continued.
"I'm not the only person that has part of a weaver's ability you know. I know for a fact that just about every curse breaker in the service of Gringotts has at least some degree of the ability. Though most of them are rather weak at it compared to myself, I do know of one that is significantly more powerful than even myself. It's also an advantage that he's family of one of Potter's friends"
"Are you suggesting that we contact Bill Weasley?", Albus asked, his curiosity roused by Snape's suggestion"
"Exactly what I'm saying headmaster. I myself would have far too little patience to tutor him, just as he would have far too little to endure my presence. Letting him study under a Weasley would be a much better choice. Not only that, but I must admit that Bill Weasley is a much better weaver than I am, even if he too has only part of the ability"
"Hmmm", Dumbledore mumbled as he slowly stroked his beard, "I must agree to your proposal Severus, though I must admit, it will take quite a bit of negotiating with the goblins to allow Bill to be Harry's tutor"
Noticing that the conversation was pretty much over, Snape nodded his goodbye to Dumbledore and left the infirmary.
"Now then, seeing that your potions professor has left for his class, why don't you tell me what happened Harry", Dumbledore spoke up as he gently put Harry's glasses onto the boy's face.
Startled, Harry opened his eyes and stared directly into the twinkling blue ones of the headmaster. With a sigh, he let himself sink a bit deeper into the pillow.
"Everything you and Professor Snape said is true headmaster", he said, "But I really didn't mean to kill him or anything. I just noticed that he was hexing my broom and tried to break his concentration by giving him a pit of a push. I never intended to do anything harmful to him"
As Harry spoke, a note of uncertainty entered his voice. A quick wave of Dumbledore eased his anxiety though.
"Harry", the headmaster said in a calming voice, "What you did today was beyond your control. Nothing could've prevented it from happening, and as it was, your act revealed that Professor Quirrel had actually been possessed by Voldemort. In doing so, you probably stopped him from coming back to life for now, and you saved a lot of people with that act. Harry, sometimes it isn't easy to take a life, but at times, it's the only thing possible to keep a lot of other people, people you care about and love, from dying. Voldemort will return though, so it is possible that you may have to defend yourself again in the future"
"Did you ever have to kill someone headmaster?", Harry asked, his voice slightly quavering.
"Sadly enough, yes", Dumbledore answered, regret lining his voice, "I've had to kill a lot of people during my life, but every single time I took a life, I knew that my act would save someone else, perhaps even a dozen others. Even so Harry, you should never take a life lightly. Those that do, inevitably turn dark. Even if I have taken a lot of lives, I will never forget them, and I will always regret the fact that I had to kill them, even if their deaths were necessary"
Harry listened carefully to Dumbledore, and found himself agreeing with the aging wizard. Remembering the events that had claimed the lives of his parents, he vowed to himself that he would never kill someone again unless it was impossible to avoid, and that in doing so, he protected those he cared about. Knowing that Voldemort still wasn't completely gone, he knew that it was almost inevitable for him to avoid another one of those life-threatening situations.
Still, he had heard something rather interesting during the time he was pretending to be unconscious, and he simply couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Sir", he began, "if you don't mind me asking, who exactly is Bill Weasley? Is he related to Ginny or Ron?"
Albus' eyes widened a bit when he noticed that while Harry had immediately connected Bill to Ron, his name had been preceded by his little sister's. Wondering about what that could possibly mean, Dumbledore simply nodded to Harry and filed away the information for later reference.
"He's the eldest of the seven at their house", Dumbledore replied, "He has part of the ability as a spell weaver, and will be teaching you how to control your gift. For that however, you will need to spend at least an hour with him every day for lessons. We'll cover it up as detentions or after class potions tutoring to keep it hidden from the other students, but during the holidays, you'll have to go to the Weasley's home to study, except for one month during the summer. You'll have to go to the Dursleys for exactly one month to keep the wards surrounding that house stable. Bill will have to visit you during that month though, so you'll be able to continue your lessons even if you're at your relative's place"
"But sir", Harry interjected, "wouldn't that be rude to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? Surely they wouldn't appreciate me simply barging in like that"
Dumbledore smiled as he saw Harry worry about others before even considering himself. He was exactly like his parents for that particular character trait.
"Harry, I know Arthur and Molly well enough to know that they would gladly let you into their house. You're a friend of their children, and that makes you part of the family for as far as I know. Besides, if I explain why it is necessary, they'll know what to do. It's better to do what's right, than to do what's easy"
"Now I believe I shall have to leave you in the care of Madam Pomfrey", Dumbledore said as he stood up. He'd spotted the mediwitch approaching and knew from experience that it wasn't a good idea to get between her and an injured person, or at least one that was injured in her eyes.
Before leaving, he gave one last reassuring smile to the boy. He hoped that his little talk with Harry had sufficed to keep the young boy's demons at bay. He knew from experience that it was very easy to fall into depression after having killed someone for the first time. For someone like Harry to be forced to do it at such a tender age only made it worse.
"Muuum", Ginny shouted as she came barrelling down the stairs, "why can't Ron and Harry come along on the trip to Romania?"
Molly sighed exasperatedly as she heard her daughter ask the exact same question for the twentieth time in as many days. She hadn't minded at first, but now it was becoming incredibly irritating. She knew that Ginny had been writing to Harry Potter, but it was obvious that her daughter was pretty much completely over the crush. Of course, there was a chance that it was only the case because the communication was through letters. Still, it was better than her initial reaction at the station.
That didn't mean that she didn't think of him anymore though. There was no doubt that they'd become great pen-pals during the first term and she was being exceptionally stubborn about letting him come along to visit Charlie in Romania. But it simply wasn't possible. They'd already paid for their portkey and there simply wasn't enough money left to accommodate five more people in their travel plans.
"Ginny", she started the same speech she'd been using over and over again the past few weeks, "if we let the two of them come along, we'll have to let Percy and the twins come along as well and there is simply no way that we can afford it"
Just at the moment that Ginny was about to reply to her mother's statement, a snowy white owl flew in through the open window and perched itself onto her shoulder.
"Hedwig", she shouted, excitement clearly audible in her voice. A visit from Hedwig guaranteed a letter from Harry. It was strange though that this time, there were two letters.
Eagerly, she took the letters. She frowned a bit when she noticed that one of the two had a distinctly different handwriting on the envelope, not to mention that it was addressed to her mother.
Distractedly she handed the letter to her mother while she herself tore open her own and started reading.
It wasn't until she had read the letter through twice that she noticed her mother sitting in one of the chairs, staring at her own letter.
"What's wrong mum?", Ginny asked, curious as to what the letter said, "Who was it from?"
Molly sighed deeply before replying.
"It was from Albus Dumbledore", she said, "it says that Harry will come over to the Burrow for almost every holiday from now on, and he'll go to Romania with us as well"
