Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of... not me. I am not in any way profiting by this story, but merely taking the opportunity to play in JK's sandbox for a bit. Any resemblance to any living person, etc, is completely unintentional.
HP – HP – HP
Harry never did manage to get back to sleep after hearing Dumbledore and Snape's conversation. While there was quite a bit that didn't make sense to him, he was astute enough to draw several terrifying conclusions. He knew now that the giant dog was Hagrid's, and that it was apparently guarding something belonging to someone named Nicholas. He understood that Quirinus- which was Professor Quirrel's first name, he knew- seemed to be trying to get at it, and Snape was apparently trying to prevent this. And most worrying of all, he knew that something was going on regarding Voldemort.
He found this news to be particularly distressing because Harry had made sure to read up on what exactly happened on Halloween, 1981. After all, the Dursleys, even had they known, obviously weren't interested in telling the truth, and McGonagall had seemed deeply uncomfortable with discussing it. His own reading showed that most of the wizarding world was unsure what had happened as well, but most sources were clear that both of his parents had died, he had survived, and Voldemort had apparently been vanquished, though all that had been found were his robes and wand. Several different histories make particular note of the fact that no body of the dark lord was ever found.
And Snape seemed to be indicating that Voldemort was, in fact, active in some way.
Harry was no fool. As near as he could tell, it seemed clear that his family had been specifically targeted, and Harry had no idea why. But it stood to reason that if Voldemort had tried and failed to kill him once, the man would likely try again. It was not a comforting thought.
Thus, when Harry was released from the hospital wing prior to breakfast, his mood was such that not even the sight of Snape lying mangled and bruised in a nearby bed could cheer him up. The sudden silence that greeted his arrival in the great hall did little to improve the matter, though his friends smiling and waving him over to their customary spot at the Hufflepuff table did lighten his thoughts some. He also noted, with some satisfaction, that Ron seemed to once more be seperated from the other Gryffindors, who were shooting the redhead some very nasty looks.
Harry was rather relieved that he didn't have to retell the story of what happened with the troll, though he was admittedly a bit annoyed that Ernie had spread it around enough that even other years were talking about it.
"You didn't have to go telling everyone, Ernie," Harry muttered after catching a Ravenclaw girl and her Gryffindor twin staring at him. "I get stared at enough."
"It's not like that at all, Harry," the other boy said hastily. "Practically the whole house was still in the common room when McGonagall dropped us off. If we'd have tried to leave without telling what happened..."
Harry just sighed. In his two months at the school, he'd already learned how fast rumor spread, so he supposed it was better that people knew what actually happened.
"You weren't the only one anyway, Potter. It's not like you have the right to hide what everyone else did too," Zacharias added, sounding for all the world as though he was the one who had fought the troll, single-handedly at that. "Hufflepuff doesn't get enough glory. It's about time we were recognized."
Megan rolled her eyes and stared pointedly at Zacharias. "Nope. His tie's still yellow. No green and silver." Zacharias turned an ugly shade of puce that Harry had only seen before on his uncle.
"You know, Potter, just because you're the Boy-Who-Lived doesn't mean you're Merlin's gift to Hogwarts," Zacharias said nastily. "You're in Hufflepuff like the rest of us. You're no better than anyone else."
"What are you going on about, Smith?" Harry asked. "I never said I was better than anyone."
"Yeah, well, you sure act like it. Trying to make friends with Gryffindors and chasing after trolls. If you want to be a Gryffie so bad, the table's right over there."
"After the stomping they're going to take in their game against Slytherin, I don't think anyone's going to want to be a Gryffindor," Megan said into the awkward silence that followed. "I hear their seeker is absolutely awful, and they still don't have any reserves at all."
Ernie stared at her for a long moment, obviously caught off-guard by the change in subject, but a brief scuffling noise under the table and hissed "ow!" from the boy clued him in. "Oh, right, quidditch, yeah. Slytherin's going to win for sure, but we don't have a bad team, either. We might be able to take the cup this year."
Leanne scoffed at him. "My friend Katie's a chaser the Gryffindor team, and she's really good. The other two chasers are, too. They've got a great keeper, and the Weasley twins aren't bad beaters." She turned to glare at Zacharias, who was still giving Harry a nasty look. "Yes, Smith, I have friends in Gryffindor too. Is that a problem?"
Zacharias scowled at her, but Harry cut him off before he could respond. "Don't. You're right, that what happened last night wasn't just about me. I'm just sick of people staring all the time." Zacharias still looked annoyed, but kept quiet.
"That reminds me! With the points from last night, we're almost caught up to Slytherin!" Hannah said excitedly.
"And it looked like Gryffindor lost even more points," Susan added. "Bet that's why Weasley's off by himself. They were really hoping to win the cup this year."
Ernie gave a slow nod. "And... with Snape in the hospital wing for who knows how long," he said slowly, his face lighting up, "and no one else around to show favoritism towards Slytherin... we might even make it to first place!" The other first years, even Zacharias, brightened at that, and Harry found the rest of his sour mood slipping away.
That night, Harry made sure his friends stayed in the common room after the other students had gone up to bed. He'd thought about it throughout the day, but finally resolved to tell everyone what he'd learned the night before.
"I hope this is important," Justin said around a yawn. "I don't want to sleep through class tomorrow."
"We've got Binns, it's not like it's a great loss," Hannah countered. "Besides, Harry did say it was important." She turned to face Harry, her cobalt eyes losing their laughter and turning serious.
Harry nodded at her, and looked around the group, who were sitting in a rough semi-circle in front of him. He made sure to meet the gazes of all of his friends, one by one. Ernie and Megan's dark brown eyes, Susan's pale blue, and Justin's hazel all met Harry's bright green and sobered quickly.
"Last night in the hospital wing, I woke up to Snape's and Dumbledore's voices..." Harry began, and five serious faces turned excited at once. Their rapt attention never wavered. "They were talking about what happened in the third floor corridor- said that the dog thing was Hagrid's, and guarding something belonging to a guy named Nicholas. Snape said that Quirrel's the one going after it-"
Harry was cut off by a chopped laugh from Ernie. "Quirrel? No offense Harry, but the idea of him- yes, yes, I know he's a professor, Hannah- going after anything is quite laughable."
"-and Dumbledore said that Quirrel sent the troll." Ernie's laughter died and all five faces paled. "And," Harry continued, in a voice barely over a whisper, and the other Hufflepuffs leaned in, "Snape also said that Voldemort is 'stirring'." At the feared name, Hannah yelped loudly and fell backwards, knocking over Megan and Justin who had also pulled away. Ernie cringed, and Susan shuddered.
"Don't say it!" Hannah wailed, while Megan extricated herself from the Hannah/Justin pile.
Ernie, looking extremely pale, nodded hastily. "Yes, don't. But, Harry," he continued fearfully, "surely you're mistaken? You-Know-Who is gone... you were the one who stopped him!"
Harry sighed. "Did I? I don't know... they never found a body, did they? And, I mean, I was only a year old... I really don't know what happened."
"But he vanished!" Hannah practically wailed. "He's gone, he never showed up after that. If he was still around, wouldn't he have, you know, kept going?"
Susan was more sympathetic. "Auntie said that lots of You-Know-Who's followers went free after he..." She paused, and glanced at Harry. "After he disappeared. He could be biding his time?"
Harry just shrugged. "I hope more than anyone that he's gone, but... Snape seems to think that he's not, and Dumbledore agrees." That statement more than anything else seemed to unsettle them. If Dumbledore thought he was still around...
"Um, Snape said that he 'stirs,' so... maybe, whatever happened, Voldemort," he said the name firmly, though the other Hufflepuffs still reacted to it. Ernie gave him a sour look. "Voldemort," he said again, "might be hurt, or asleep, or something. I don't know. But... I'd rather assume he's out there and be wrong, than think he's gone and found out he's not."
Susan nodded her reluctant agreement, and the others followed suit.
"What can we do, though?" Megan asked.
"Well... I sort of got the impression that Snape and Dumbledore thing Quirrel's working for Voldemort- it's just a name!" he snapped, finally too annoyed at their reactions to ignore it an longer. "Voldemort killed my parents. He tried to kill me. I'm not going to be afraid of his stupid name!"
Hannah looked to be near tears as Harry finished his tirade, and Ernie and Justin both looked put out with him. Harry exhaled slowly, calming down. "I'm sorry. But, being afraid to say his name, it's what he wants, isn't it? Like you're giving him respect by fearing him. And I won't do that."
Megan said, in a very quiet voice, "Well, of course you're not afraid of him. You already beat him."
Harry laughed humorlessly. "I'm terrified of him. I'm afraid he'll come and finish the job he started. But I won't give in to him, either. And as for what we can do... I think we should start keeping an eye on Quirrel."
HP – HP – HP
The first quidditch match of the year was preceded by a number of altercations on both the Gryffindor and Slytherin sides, but everyone seemed to take it in stride. Even the events of Halloween were forgotten in the quidditch fervor, and students of both houses, and even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, seemed to go quidditch-mad.
"My cousin's a beater for the Harpies," Megan was saying during what was supposed to be study time. She swung her Transfiguration book, nearly taking out Justin, who ducking in the nick of time. "She says that a good beater can help even a bad team win. After all, a lot of seekers are really tiny, like Harry here," she said, grinning at Harry, "and all it takes is one good bludger, and WHAM!" She swung her book again for emphasis, but this time Justin wasn't quite so quick to duck.
With a dull thud, the boy hit the ground. "Oh Merlin, Justin, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, dropping her book to the floor- where it once again struck the unfortunate muggleborn. Both Ernie and Harry winced as Justin groaned. Neither boy would want a heavy tome dropped where Megan's book had landed.
"Looks like a bad beater can help even a good study session to end, too, eh Harry?" Ernie said as Megan tried to help a protesting Justin up.
"Pease stop 'elpig," the curly-haired boy begged. "I'b fide. It's just by dose." Harry was just relieved it was the common room instead of the library. Pince would be furious over the noise, and absolutely livid over the dropping of precious book.
"C'mon, let's get you to the hospital wing," Megan said, trying to get Justin to lean on her.
"It's by dose, 'ot by 'eg," he protested, but ultimately succumbed to the stubborn girl's dubious 'help.'
"She's trying out for quidditch next year, you know," Harry said after Megan and Justin were through the portrait hole. "I don't know which would be scarier- being the person she was hitting bludgers at, or being the next bloke over."
"I'd be frightened enough to just be in the air at the same time as her. The girl's a menace," Ernie said with a laugh.
"Can't fault her enthusiasm though," Harry added. "And really, she's not that bad. She's just... not quite as good as she tries to be. Susan could try out," Harry added, lightly elbowing the girl next to him. "She'd be a great chaser. She could just launch that patented Susan glare of doom at the other team's keeper- yes, that's the one- and he'd get out of the way in a hurry!" Harry had to duck a swung book of his own at that.
"Keep it up, Potter, and you'll be visiting your favorite professor in the hospital wing," she growled. "Besides, I'd definitely be a beater."
Ernie agreed. "She is violent enough." Susan stuck her tongue out at him, as he was out of reach.
Hannah just shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You're all quidditch-crazy. I mean, it's alright and all, but..."
"But?" Harry asked.
"It's just kind of scary, is all," Hannah mumbled, and even Susan joined in the laughter. "What? It's not funny. I don't like the idea of my friends crashing into each other or falling or getting hit by bludgers!"
"Don't worry, Hannah, none of us are on the team, right? Besides, quidditch is perfectly safe. They've been playing it for hundreds of years, and people hardly ever die."
"Ernie, you're awful!" the blond cried. Everyone else just laughed again.
HP – HP – HP
The match itself turned out to be rather anti-climactic. Despite skilled play from most of the team, the Slytherin players were bigger and meaner, and while their seeker wasn't good, the Gryffindor seeker, a third year boy named Cormac McLaggen, seemed to do more damage to his own team than anything else. Higgs, the Slytherin seeker, caught the snitch two hours into the match, while McLaggen was apparently attempting to tell the chasers how to chase. Slytherin wound up winning 450-210.
While three quarters of the school was disappointed, the result was not entirely unexpected, and everyone seemed to get back to normal- though Justin adamantly refused to sit near Megan during the Hufflepuffs' study time. Hermione continued to join them in the library, while Ron was wisely avoiding the group for the time being.
Harry felt particularly good about his classes, especially now that Snape was out of commission. Potions class was temporarily run by a substitute, who seemed to be quite capable. Ernie was especially appreciative, and had stayed several times after class ended, presumably to ask questions or seek comments about his and Harry's latest potions.
Harry was still getting headaches in Defense Against the Dark Arts. However, now that he had such dire suspicions about Quirrel, he dared not stop watching him for even a minute. Often times, Harry would find himself thinking about his friends, his other classes and professors, and even the Dursleys and Privet Drive while trying to watch the professor.
Another bright point was that, now that his detentions were over, Harry was permitted to join the Hufflepuff quidditch team for practices. At first he was only observing, but after Ravenclaw beat them 350-90 two weekends after Gryffindor lost to Slytherin, the team captain allowed Harry to borrow his broom to see what the first year could do.
"Alright, Harry, let me see you do a quick loop around the pitch," Malcolm Preece, who was also one of the chasers, said condescendingly, reluctantly handing Harry his broom. "It's a Cleansweep Six, so be careful with it!" he warned.
Harry nodded, eager to be back in the air again. He quickly mounted the broom and catapaulted into the sky, whipping sharply around the posts at the far end of the pitch before speeding back to the captain. "Er, Malcolm, are you alright?" Harry asked, worried that the boy's stare meant that he was upset over the treatment of his broom. "Your Cleansweep's alright..." he said, slowly, offering the broom back to the sixth year.
Malcolm quickly shook his head. "Potter... Harry... why don't you take a quaffle up and try to score a few practice goals?" Harry shrugged and nodded, accepting the quaffle while the Keeper, a tall, reedy fourth year named Herbert Fleet, took to the sky.
Once the older boy was in position, Harry once more was in the air. He saw Fleet hovering near the middle hoop, though he seemed to be keeping a close eye on the far hoop. Grinning, Harry likewise watched the far hoop and flew full-out towards it. At the last moment, though, he spun hard towards the center hoop. Even as Fleet reached out to block the far hoop, Harry's shot went cleanly through the center.
Malcolm had Harry take several more shots, and while Fleet was able to block many of them, Harry still felt that he did reasonably well. His attempts at beating did not work out nearly as well.
"Alright, Harry, I want to let my other chasers get back to work. Why don't you try your hand at beating?" He handed Harry a spare bat, and once Harry was back in the air, let loose one of the caged bludgers.
Harry's first instinct was to duck as it came towards him, so the bludger went sailing by- and went straight for the two chasers. Fortunately, Harry's shout of 'look out!' was in time, and the chasers evaded the runaway bludger, though their attack was broken up. "Oops," Harry said sheepishly, though no one was close enough to hear him.
"Oi, Potter, you're supposed to hit the bludger, not dodge it!" an annoyed Heidi Macavoy, who as a third year was the youngest player on the team, called. Harry took the subtle hint, and though smashing the bludger around was fun, he supposed, it wasn't nearly as much fun as chasing had been.
When Malcolm called Harry back down after getting Andrew Suthers, who was a rather large seventh year beater, to cage the bludger, Malcolm had in his hand what appeared to be a golf ball. "I got these from Wood, he's Gryffindor's captain. We don't use a snitch in practice since it's so easy to lose them for hours. Macavoy over there," he said, indicating the still somewhat peeved brunette, "is going to throw these in different directions. All you need to do is catch them."
"Without crashing," the girl added helpfully.
"Right, without crashing, especially not with my broom."
Harry nodded, smiling. This sounded just like his very first broom ride.
Sure enough, Harry managed to catch every single one of the golf balls well before they reached the ground. Even Macavoy seemed impressed.
Malcolm, however, seemed to be muttering to himself. "Not fair," he was saying softly. "So not fair."
"Er, Malcolm?" Harry interrupted. "Here's your golf balls back." Malcolm nodded, putting them into a bag, and accepting his broom back as well.
"Harry, I'm going to try to convince Sprout to let you play." Harry was shocked. "I don't think there's ever been a first year on a house team before, but you're ready to play. I've never seen anyone fly like you did today. She'll probably say no," he continued, and Harry's grin fell, "but we're expecting that. We'll try and sell it as keeping you as a reserve. You can play chaser and seeker... especially seeker. Then, we'll swap you in during the matches, get you some real practice in."
Harry smiled at that. He might not get a chance to be a starter, but a reserve was better than not playing at all.
"You never tried him as keeper," Fleet said. "He's a bit scrawny for it, but you never know..."
But Harry shook his head. "I don't think I'd be that good at it anyway. I like flying around too much."
Malcolm agreed. "Yeah. I think we'll want to keep you mobile, Harry. And unless Sprout says otherwise, I want you to come to all of our practices from now on. You're unofficially on the team until we can make it official." Harry didn't think even Snape could remove the smile that plastered itself onto his face after that.
HP – HP – HP
As expected, Sprout didn't relent on Harry being a part of the team, though with much wheedling from Malcolm, who reminded her they'd lost to Ravenclaw handily, she relented and allowed Harry to play as a reserve. It helped that Ravenclaw had been the worst team the previous year- being beaten by them was a serious blow to the collective Hufflepuff quidditch ego.
Harry's days became even busier, between adding quidditch in around his studies while still trying to find time to have fun with his friends. The end of term was fast approaching, too, so everyone had even more work to do.
Despite everything going on, though, Harry did not forget about his commitment to keep an eye on Quirrel. The man seemed to spend quite a bit of time in his office, often conversing with another man, who spoke with a cold, high, and somehow familar voice. Harry also made it a point to pay a visit to Hagrid, who had after all given him his owl for his birthday.
Hagrid seemed both pleased and surprised to see Harry on the cold Sunday morning Harry chose to drop by. "Didn' expect t' see you here, Harry. Thought Hufflepuffs were all afraid o' me. Er, no offense." Harry didn't have the heart to tell him that none of his friends had wanted to come- especially after Hannah said that she heard that Hagrid eats first years.
Harry shook his head. "It's alright. I should have come by sooner, you know, to thank you for my owl." Hagrid beamed, and ushered Harry into his small hut.
"'S not much, I'm afraid, bu' it's home."
Harry disagreed. "It's great. What are those bones over there?" he asked, pointing towards a large, wicked-looking skull.
"Tha'? Oh, it's nothin', just a little thing I found deep in the forest. It's from a chimaera. They're a bit much for mos' wizards, but I think they're jus' misunderstood. I mean, sure, they can take o' themselves, but they're mostly harmless." Harry just nodded, not having the faintest idea what a chimaera was.
"Oh," Harry said. "I thought it might have been a troll or something."
Hagrid gave him a stern look. "That reminds me, Harry. You shouldn't go bringin' trolls to poor Fluffy. It'll spoil his appetite. Nasty blighters, trolls are. Probably still hasn't got the taste out of his mouths, poor thing."
Something clicked in Harry's mind. "Wait... you named that monster Fluffy?" Harry asked, disbelieving.
"Well, o' course I did! Thing's got to have a name, don't it?" Harry shuddered, remembering how 'Fluffy' had almost eaten him and Ron. "'Sides, little guy doesn't give me a bit o' trouble," Hagrid grinned, taking out a small wooden flute. "I jus' play 'im a bit of music, an' he goes right to sleep!"
Harry blinked. Had Hagrid just told him how to get past the thing guarding... whatever it was that was hidden in the castle?
"Should not 'ave told you that," Hagrid muttered. "Don' worry about it, Harry. I don' expect you to be going anywhere near Fluffy, you hear me?" Harry hastily nodded his agreement. Harry wanted as little to do with Fluffy as possible.
"Trust me, Hagrid, going near, er, Fluffy, is the last thing on my mind." Hagrid eyed him for another moment, before nodding.
"Good. Your father was often into mischief. Lost count of the number o' times I chased him and his friends out o' the forest. Good to see you've got a bit more sense than that. 'Sides, that's all between Dumbledore and Flamel, nothing at all to do with you." Harry once more nodded his agreement, filing yet another tidbit of information away. Hagrid seemed unaware that he'd said anything of import.
"Right then, let's get you some tea to warm you up, then get you back off the castle. Don't want you to miss curfew."
HP – HP – HP
Unfortunately, Harry's run of good luck was not to last. Snape returned to the classroom the week following Hufflepuff's loss to Ravenclaw, and seemed to take extra pleasure in taking points from Harry. Normally, Harry was mostly unbothered, as he had grown used to Snape's unfair treatment of him, but now that Hufflepuff had a narrow lead in the house cup, every point lost was painful. Snape seemed to realize this and relished each loss, often making several small deductions instead of his typical five to ten points all at once.
Harry's potion grades likewise fell, to the point where he and Ernie were no longer even making passing grades. Harry felt that this was to make up for the 'E's and 'O's they had scored while Snape was gone. While Harry was viciously hoping for Fluffy to get a second round with Snape, Ernie seemed perversely pleased with the low scores. All he would tell Harry when asked was "you'll see."
Harry didn't find out what Ernie meant until the last day of November, when a prefect informed him that he was to go to Sprout's office. As far as Harry knew, he hadn't done anything wrong, so he was at a loss as to what he was called for.
When he went in, he found Sprout and Ernie there already waiting, along with an older, distinguished looking gentleman wearing what appeared to be very expensive robes. The man had long hair, but it shared its color with Ernie's. However, the older man's hair was liberally peppered with grey, and unlike Ernie, he was tall and rather fit looking.
Sprout gave him a serious, 'this means business' look. "Mr. Potter, Lord MacMillan has requested your presence here in regards to allegations made again Professor Snape by his son, Ernie."
