It's OK, Omega is here! I'll admit that this chapter is a bit shorter than previous ones, but I had to use this one to tie up some loose ends that I forgot about. You'll see what I mean near the end. Also, I couldn't think of a proper chapter title, so I decided to dedicate this to Abbacchio.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

-OK-

"Do we really have to go?"

"Come on, Hermione, we need to show some house spirit!" Neville's love for quidditch drove him to speak louder than ever before.

Hermione side-eyed Harry, who tried to appear innocent, "And what about you? I know you like this silly game about as much as I do."

"What Neville said. Need to show some house spirit, rah rah!" Hermione's deadpan glare wouldn't yield. Harry cracked when she started to glow blue. "Usually when people focus on the game, they don't pay attention to their pockets."

Hermione huffed, "That's what I thought."

The trio continued walking toward the pitch, with an annoyed Hermione in tow. They rounded a corner and almost ran into one of their professors, Professor Quirrelll.

"Ah, M-mister Poster. . . And friends." Harry didn't like Quirrell. Whenever they met, Harry's forehead would tingle in an uncomfortable sort of way. It itched in a way he couldn't scratch. "Are you t-t-three headed off to the p-pitch?"

"Yes, professor," Harry said, unblinking.

"R-right then, off you go." Professor Quirrell turned around and started to walk away. Harry narrowed his eyes at the retreating figure.

"Don't react to what I'm about to do," Harry whispered to his friends.

"What are you-"

"Excuse me, Professor?" Quirrell turned around just in time to get a face full of Smooth Criminal.

"Tor-RU!"

One punch sent at high speeds towards the Professor's face. Hermione was moments away from summoning her own Stand. But, the attack stopped millimeters from hitting Quirrell's face. He didn't even blink, let alone flinch.

"W-was there something else you n-needed, Potter?"

Harry's expression did not betray his true feelings. "Ah, sorry, Professor, seems I've completely forgotten my question."

"That's q-quite alright," he gave a shaky smile and then walked out of sight.

Hermione rounded on Harry the instant Quirrell left. "What was that about? You could have killed him!"

"I know my limits, Hermione, relax. He would've been fine, even if I had hit him." Hermione wasn't pleased with that answer, not one bit. If she didn't receive an explanation soon, then Disco Panic would cause some actual panic. "I was trying to see if he was a Stand-User."

"Why?" Neville asked, "He's even jumpier than I am. And you said that Stand-Users need fighting spirit."

"I did say that, but. . . Something about him puts me on edge. I can't explain it." Harry grimaced as he watched the Professor walk away. He shook his head and turned back to his friends. "I guess it doesn't matter, looks like I was wrong. Come on, we should get to the field before we miss the tip-off. Or whatever you people call it."

First Quidditch match of the year pitted Gryffindor against Slytherin. Setting off the season with a centuries-old rivalry. Like starting an argument by pulling the pin on a grenade. Bets were being made left and right. Harry heard that the Weasley twins were acting as bookies.

Harry didn't expect to pick many pockets that afternoon. Most students didn't usually keep coin purses on them during these kinds of things. So, he made a bet of his own.

Ten galleons that Gryffindor would lose. . . Against Draco Malfoy. The latter of which bet that Slytherin would lose. How Harry managed to convince Draco to take that bet remains a mystery.

But, with that amount of money on the line(Draco's monthly allowance), Draco would be a fool to say no. Those high-stakes almost had the Slytherin wearing red and gold for the day.

As the game went on, Harry found himself becoming more and more entranced. The way they were moving took a considerable amount of skill. You didn't have to be a sports fan to appreciate that.

Harry enjoyed watching, until the point where the Slytherin Beaters started glowing black. Hermione lit up with her own blue glow. Harry placed a hand on her arm to calm her.

"Not yet," he said.

"But, here? Now?" Hermione scowled, "What does this person plan to do?"

"I don't know, but for now find the source." Both of them surveyed the area, looking for the origin of that black glow.

"Over there! Where the teachers are," Hermione pointed towards the stands. Abandoning discretion due to their frantic situation.

The glow definitely originated from that point. But, it was impossible to tell who it belonged to. It was too far away to see any facial features. Plus, the black glow helped keep the Stand-Users body a mystery.

"What should we do?"

"I-" Before Harry could get a word out, one of the possessed beaters struck. A bludger went flying towards the stands, Harry in particular.

Smooth Criminal appeared and punched the bludger. It soared back into the field until one of the beaters smashed it back. After that, the second bludger also went flying. Lee Jordan's voice echoed amidst the chaos.

"What's this? The two beaters on the Slytherin team have gone mental! They're hitting bludgers at the bleachers instead of the field!"

Madame Hooch called for a timeout as Harry's Stand smacked away another projectile. Despite the flight instructors fierce warnings, the beaters continued slamming bludgers at Harry. Much of the other students fled the scene, while the trio stayed behind.

"Go over there and end this. Knock the place down for all I care!"

Hermione nodded and started to leave. Neville stayed behind to act as a human shield if needed. Harry would never resort to such tactics, but he appreciated the thought.

What none of them noticed was the stray pair of eyes and ears that overheard them. The same pair that started following Hermione into the underbelly of the bleachers.

-OK-

Hermione ran through the stands. Weaving through beams and random junk stored away forgotten.

"Oi, Granger!" She almost tripped upon hearing her name called. After righting herself, Hermione saw Ron Weasley standing some feet away from her. "What are you doing down here?"

"I was, uh. . . Just leaving, actually! I think I got lost." Lying, never a strong suit for Hermione.

"Lost, yeah right! Know-it-all like you probably never gets lost." Hermione flinched when she heard that backhanded compliment. "I heard your little chat with Potter. Planning on bringing down the teachers just because Gryffindor's about to win?"

". . . What?" Out of all the things Ron could've said, Hermione didn't expect that.

"You heard me!" Ron stomped closer, "I know what you lot are."

Hermione's pulse raced, she started to summon Disco Panic to defend herself. But, once again, expected anything except for what he actually said.

"Nothing but a bunch of snakes in lion's clothes." Fear stepped out of the way for pure confusion. "Probably used some sort of spell on the hat to get it to put you in my house. Trying to take down Gryffindor from the inside! That's the only thing that makes sense. After all, Longbottom's so useless, he can't be anything but a puff. Know-it-alls like you belong in Ravenclaw. And FREAKS like Potter-!"

Hermione noticed that, as Ron was speaking, something appeared behind him. A raggedy-patchwork of artwork held together by ugly, black stitches. It raised a clawed hand and struck the back of Weasley's neck. He crumbled to the ground like a tower of cards.

Her shock lasted two seconds before Disco Panic appeared. She relaxed when Draco Malfoy walked into view. But, she didn't dismiss Disco Panic just yet.

"Looked like you needed some help, Granger." He refocused on Disco Panic, "So, you got one too, huh?"

"Yes," Hermione didn't have much to say at that moment. The bizarreness of the situation had her seeing a mental blue screen of death.

"I'm guessing you're trying to stop whatever's happening on the field?"

And that kick-started her brain again, "Right!"

Hermione dashed off and, with nothing better to do, Draco followed.

It didn't take them long to get over to the Teacher's Stands. But, it was next to impossible to see who the mystery Stand-User was. Being underneath the bleachers meant all they saw were the User's shoes. And the black glow made everything they wore look black.

"What do we do?" Draco asked, feeling useless. There wasn't a painting in sight so he couldn't use his S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W at all.

Hermione racked her brains for an answer, any answer. . . She felt like smacking herself when she remembered one small detail. She was a witch, as well as a Stand-User.

"Get ready to run," she said. Hermione whipped her wand out and pointed at the Stand-User's robes. "Inflamare!"

As the fire started to grow, the two first-year students booked it. The growing commotion behind them said that Hermione's plan worked.

"I am so glad I stopped bullying you," Draco said between deep breaths. "Because you're bloody insane!

With her forehead covered in sweat, Hermione smiled, "Why thank you!"

-OK-

Harry scowled as he tried to concentrate. Each bludger flew so fast it almost overpowered his Smooth Criminal. He couldn't believe people actually play games with these things.

The glow disappeared and the bludgers stopped attacking him. Harry collapsed onto a seat with a sigh of relief. He wondered what Hermione did to stop the Stand-User. When Harry looked over and saw a growing fire over by the teachers, he snorted.

The reasons for Harry's concern for the sanity of magicals kept growing. The game didn't stop when the beaters when rogue. No, instead, the teams played around them. The Gryffindor seeker caught the snitch right after the beaters stopped attacking. Which led to the following announcement from Lee Jordan:

"With a score of one-hundred seventy points to sixty, Gryffindor wins!"

Harry snickered when he realized there was a very conflicted Draco somewhere. Debating on whether he should celebrate his rival house's victory or not.

Everyone left the field once the game was over. Meanwhile, the teachers took the Slytherin beaters away for questioning. As they walked back, the Gryffindor house celebrated their victory like kings. Meanwhile, no one noticed the three stray Gryffindors and the single Slytherin.

"I can't believe this mystery Stand-User is one of our teachers!" Hermione's world view was crumbling down around her. Harry passed Draco ten Galleons when she wasn't looking.

"Which one do you think it is?" Draco asked as he put away the coin purse beneath his robes. "We couldn't see who it was from where we were."

Neville mumbled his answer, "My money's on Snape. . ."

"Watch it, Longbottom," Draco growled, making Neville squeak like a rodent. "He may not be a nice man, but he's still my godfather. He wouldn't do something like this."

To try and diffuse any further arguing, Hermione turned to Harry, "What do you think, Harry?"

"I would've said Quirrell, but we both know how that worked out." Draco needed that explained to him, but he laughed once it was. "All I know is that there is some seriously bizarre stuff going on around this place. Especially that third-floor corridor. The one that none of you thought to warn me about!"

Neville and Hermione had the decency to blush. Since Harry had missed the welcoming feast, he also missed Dumbledore's initial warning. He found that out the hard way. After wandering about the castle and coming face-to-face with a three-headed dog.

Harry shook his head, "All we can do now is wait. Sooner or later, that bastard is going to come for us. We just have to wait for that moment. Until then, we should be polishing up our Stand abilities. Some of us more than others. . ."

Harry and Draco turned to Hermione at the same time.

"What?"

"You know, I started pick-pocketing to improve Smooth Criminal's abilities," Harry said, off-hand.

"And after I got S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W I spent hour after hour staring at paintings. Even spent most of a month living inside one. . ."

Hermione hated to admit that she'd been ignoring Disco Panic since she showed up. The wizarding world was one thing, her bouts of accidental magic had prepared her for that. But, the matter of Stands was something else entirely. She couldn't even go to the library to do research on them! If she didn't have one herself, she'd hardly believe they existed.

She sighed, "Alright, I see your point. What would you suggest I do?"

Harry's grin turned devilish. Smooth Criminal dropped something into his hand that made Hermione pale.

"You ever heard of Dodgeball?"

-OK-

So, yeah, I kinda screwed myself when I wrote some of the previous chapters. Because I forgot that some of the events I changed are major things that influenced the plot of The Sorcerer's Stone. Hopefully, this helps tie things up.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and I will see you all next time, OK is out!