Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling
Thanks to my betas Jonathyn and Camille, and I hope everyone enjoys the chapter! I've been a little bogged down with my Physics midterm and Geometry midterm coming up, but I finally finished the chapter! Hope you like it. You'll notice that I borrowed a lot of lines from the actual books in regard to the quidditch game.
Harry marched away from Dumbledore's office, enraged. How could Dumbledore not tell him he had a magical guardian? And then, when Harry demanded to know why Dumbledore said it was for his own good. Honestly, he was pretty sure Dumbledore was legally required to tell him these things.
"Dobby." he called, and the diminutive elf popped in, dressed in a unique blend of golden snitch and green serpent fabric.
"Yes Master Harry sir?" the elf asked.
"Can you bring me some parchment and ink please?" he asked.
Dobby brought some, and Harry started penning his letter to Gringotts.
Dear Ragnok,
May your enemies blood flow and your gold flow with it. I was wondering how I would change my magical guardian, sir. I recently discovered that Dumbledore is my magical guardian, but he has been lax in his duties. If possible I would like to change my magical guardian, but am unable to discover the legal books for it.
May your gold flow,
Harry James Potter Black Slytherin Gryffindor Hufflepuff Ravenclaw Emrys LeFay
"You were right to do that." Ginny soothed him later, when Harry was feeling a little guilty. "Did you know the school is supposed to have dark object wards that would have detected the diary on me?"
"What?" Harry asked. "Do you mean that Dumbledore could have taken the diary?"
"She means that he knew about the diary." Lyra stated grimly. "He knew, but let the Chamber open, and Ginny suffer."
"But he's the headmaster?" Harry protested, trying to wrap his head around the idea. "He couldn't be evil!"
"Not evil, but manipulative. He has an end goal, and he will use us to reach it." Draco said.
Harry sat down on a beanbag, trying to wrap his mind around the concept.
"It's alright." Susan said, sitting next to him. "It took me a while to understand it too."
Harry let out a sigh. "Let's just go. I want to know when I'll get my Firebolt back."
Unfortunately, McGonagall refused to give him the broom still, and Dumbledore was doing nothing. Classes had started again. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs.
Patronus lessons were going well. Harry had managed to produce a solid shield, so Flitwick had found a boggart for them to test it on.
"Ready Harry?" Professor Flitwick asked.
Harry would be the only person testing against a boggart that class, while Luna, Drake, and Lyra would try another time.
"Ready Harry?" Flitwick asked.
"Yeah." he nodded, determined.
Professor Flitwick slowly pulled open the lid of the chest. A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him -
"Expecto patronum!" Harry yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat -"
White fog obscured his senses...big, blurred shapes were moving around him...then came a new voice, a man's voice, shouting, panicking -
"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -"
The sounds of someone stumbling from a room - a door bursting open - a cackle of high- pitched laughter -
"Harry! Harry...wake up..."
Harry woke up to Lyra shaking his shoulders desperately, while Flitwick pulled out some chocolate.
"Here." he told Harry, handing him a giant slab of Honeydukes Nutty Mallow Chocolate.
"Thanks." Harry croaked, taking the bar and sitting up.
"Are you sure you want to try again Mr Potter?" the professor asked.
"Yes." Harry shook his head vigorously. "At least once more."
"What did you hear this time?" Draco asked.
"My dad." Harry said softly. "It's the first time."
"They loved you." Luna said calmly. "Don't blame yourself."
Harry flushed pink as he realized that it was exactly what he was doing: if it hadn't been for him they wouldn't have died.
"Ready?" Professor Flitwick asked again.
Harry gave a nod, and he pulled the lid open. The Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark -
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
The screaming inside Harry's head had started again - except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio - softer and louder and softer again...and he could still see the Dementor...it had halted...and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand, to hover between him and the Dementor, and though Harry's legs felt like water, he was still on his feet - though for how much longer, he wasn't sure… he concentrated harder and his shield became more solid, the screaming dulling…
"RIDDIKULUS!" Professor Flitwick shouted, pushing the dementor back into the chest. "Well done Mr Potter!" he praised, handing Harry a Chocolate Frog.
"Awesome mate!" Draco cheered.
"Are you alright?" Lyra asked, her silver eyes full of concern.
"I'm fine." Harry reassured her, taking her hand and pulling himself up.
"That's all for today Harry." Professor Flitwick told him. "We'll try again in two weeks."
"How'd it go mate?" Dean asked as he painted the moonlight, though Seamus was doing his best to distract him.
"Pretty well." Harry shrugged. "I managed to create a shield, though I still couldn't properly repel the dementor."
Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Slytherin too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Flitwick's anti-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, Harry had just one night a week to do all his homework. Even so, he was not showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted.
Harry and Hermione's feud was still ongoing, and Harry's trust in the headmaster was also withering away.
"Honestly Harry, how are you so good?" Seamus asked as his exploding snap cards combusted yet again.
Before he could respond Wood came in. "Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She - er - got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first." Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me...you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it..." He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. "As long as necessary, Wood"...I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick...you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."
"No." Harry replied firmly. "I'm getting my broom back."
On the other hand, his letter back from Gringotts had come with Hedwig.
Dear Mr Potter,
By neglecting his duties as your magical guardian Dumbledore has allowed for you to be able to pick a new one. We at Gringotts have enclosed the forms for you to sign, but you will require another guardian first.
May the blood of your enemies and your gold flow plentifully.
Ragnok, Head of Gringotts
Harry was unable to find any person to become his new magical guardian, so he had put the papers away. January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Dean and Seamus standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted.
"No, Potter, you can't have it back yet," Professor McGonagall told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Lupin believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."
To make matters even worse, Harry's anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached him, but his Patronus was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semitransparent cloud, draining Harry of energy as he fought to keep it there. Harry felt angry with himself, guilty about his secret desire to hear his parents' voices again.
"You have to let go." Luna told him, as she taught him how to meditate.
The trick to all magic, she said, was to feel the magic. It was all about intent. He had to be able to feel the magic, to feel it coursing through his veins. Of course, Harry had a lot of trouble with that, so he wasn't doing very well. Even Ginny was doing better than him, and her meditation had gotten to a point where she had pushed her memories of the Chamber to the back of her mind.
After one patronus practice that went better than usual Harry was walking up the stairs absentmindedly when he bumped into Professor McGonagall.
"Do watch where you're going, Potter!"
"Sorry, Professor -"
"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all - you've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter..."
Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever. He honestly didn't know if he would get it back.
"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter - do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night..."
"You got it back!" Ginny screamed when he entered the common room with it.
Harry saw Hermione in a corner and went up to her. "See?" he told her. "It was completely fine. I trust Luna for a reason."
"But it could have been jinxed!" she defended herself.
"But it wasn't." he reminded her. "Like Luna said."
"Why do you trust her so much?" she cried out in frustration. "What did she do to you?"
Harry immediately closed himself off. "She's my friend." he replied coldly. "I trust my friends."
On that note he left the room with his broom and with his other Quidditch friends.
"Come on Harry!" Fred and George cheered.
"It's a Firebolt!" Lee whooped. "Come on! Gryffindor is going to crush this year!"
Harry shot off from the ground like a rocket, the wind pressing at his face. He gave out a delighted scream; the broom spun around at the lightest touch, as though it responded to his thoughts rather than his touch. Fingering the golden lettering on it's handle, he leaned down as he attempted a move that he had read about in his books: the Wronski Feint.
Harry pressed down on his broom, the cold, green grass getting closer, and when he was centimeters from the ground he pulled up with all his strength. Harry created a funnel in the grass as she shot across the field, and he grinned happily before dismounting.
"Awesome." Dean and Seamus breathed.
"You just attempted a professional level Wronski Feint." Draco muttered, having arrived on the field.
"He completed a professional level Wronski Feint." Ginny corrected him.
"Anyone want a turn?" Harry asked with a smirk, prompting a rush towards him. Well, mostly the broom.
The entire group trekked back to the castle hours later, deliriously happy and tired.
"Best Broom Ever." Blaise decided.
And it was. The next Quidditch practice went beautifully- it was as though the entire team was inspired by the Firebolt. Harry himself spent the entire practice pushing himself, flying loops and distraction for the entire team. So inspired were they that Wood found no faults in the entire team at the end of the practice, which as George said, was a first.
"We are going to crush you guys!" Fred roared to their Slytherin friends.
"Just because one person on your team owns a top-quality broom doesn't mean the entire team is good." Lyra sniffed.
"Yeah, but it inspires us, and Lee said he'd advertise it as distraction."
"That's cheating." Daphne accused, her eyes narrowed.
"Can you really say you wouldn't have done the same if you could?" Astoria smirked with a raised brow.
"It's just a game." Hannah rolled her eyes. "I get that you guys are competitive, but bribery is taking it to a new level."
"Oh my poor heart breaks at your words!" Harry said, clutching his heart and dramatically stumbling around the room, much to it's occupants amusement.
"You're incorrigible." Susan laughed.
"Why thank you!" Harry smirked, cheekily tipping a non-existent hat to her.
"Ok but really?" Dean asked. "How is patronus work going?"
"Meah." Harry shrugged.
"The wrackspurts are crowding your head." Luna stated. "You aren't able to concentrate."
"Ok." Blaise said, breaking the silence that had followed Luna's statement. "Chess?"
Harry gave his friend a grin before sitting down with the chess set that he had gotten from Blaise for Christmas; it had black quartz pieces with emeralds on the eyes, and sapphires on the king and queen's crowns. The board was made of marble.
The game came the next day, and Harry got ready for the game with a large grin on his face. He had woken up early that morning and polished his broom even though it was perfect, before eating a big breakfast.
"Ready Harry?" Fred asked with a grin.
"Sure you'll be able to beat the lovely Cho Chang?"
"It's not like I even know her." Harry reminded them.
"Yeah, but she could distract you." George smirked.
"With her long hair." Fred fake swooned.
"With her lovely eyes." George smirked wickedly.
Harry shot two stinging jinxes at them with a hiss. With identical yelps the two jumped into the air, sending glares at Harry, who just smirked. At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and Harry, though nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. They could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond. Harry took off his black school robes, removed his wand from his pocket, and stuck it inside the T-shirt he was going to wear under his Quidditch robes. He only hoped he wouldn't need it. He wondered suddenly whether Professor Flitwick was in the crowd, watching.
"You know what we've got to do," said Wood as they prepared to leave the locker rooms. "If we lose this match, we're out of the running. just - just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay!"
They walked out onto the field to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, were already standing in the middle of the field. Harry noticed that Cho Chang was the only girl on their team. Harry couldn't help noticing, nervous as he was, that she looked scared just like him.,
"Wood, Davies, shake hands," Madam Hooch said briskly, and Wood shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain.
"Mount your brooms ... on my whistle ... three - two - one -"
Harry kicked off into the air and the Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom; he soared around the stadium and began squinting around for the Snitch, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan.
"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship -"
"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.
"Right you are, Professor - just giving a bit of background information - the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and -"
"Jordan!"
Harry gave a laugh, before running a lap of the field.
"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal..."
Harry streaked past Katie in the opposite direction, gazing around for a glint of gold and noticing that Chang was tailing him closely. Apparently she had a new tactic- she kept cutting across him, forcing him to change direction.
"Show her your acceleration, Harry!" Fred yelled as he whooshed past in pursuit of a Bludger that was aiming for Alicia.
Harry urged the Firebolt forward as they rounded the Slytherin goal posts and Chang fell behind. Just as Katie succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match, and the Gryffindor end of the field went wild, he saw it - the Snitch was close to the ground, flitting near one of the barriers.
Harry dived; Chang saw what he was doing and tore after him - Harry was speeding up, excitement flooding him; dives were his specialty, he was ten feet away -
Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Harry veered off course, avoiding it by an inch, and in those few, crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished.
"Damn it." he cursed, flying up.
There was a great "Ooooooh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. George Weasley vented his feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.
"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to ten, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now, see it turn - Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision - balance is really noticeable in these long -"
"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"
Harry laughed even harder. McGonagall had been really short with Lee ever since the catnip prank. Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only forty points ahead - if Chang got the Snitch before him, Ravenclaw would win. Harry dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, scanning the field frantically - a glint of gold, a flutter of tiny wings - the Snitch was circling the Gryffindor goal post...
Harry accelerated, eyes fixed on the speck of gold ahead - but just then, Chang appeared out of thin air, blocking him - Harry swerved to avoid collision, but the Snitch had vanished again. Harry turned his Firebolt upward and was soon twenty feet above the game. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cho following him… he gave a large smirk… if he wanted a chase Harry would give him a chase.
He dived again, and Chang, thinking he'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow; Harry pulled out of the dive very sharply; he hurtled downward; he rose fast as a bullet once more, and then saw it, for the third time - the Snitch was glittering way above the field at the Ravenclaw end.
He accelerated; so, many feet below, did Chang. Harry was winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second - then -
"Augh!" she yelled.
Distracted, Harry looked down.
Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at him.
He didn't stop to think. Plunging a hand down the neck of his robes, he whipped out his wand and roared, "Expecto patronum!"
Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand. He knew it had shot directly at the Dementors but didn't pause to watch; his mind still miraculously clear, he looked ahead - he was nearly there. He stretched out the hand still grasping his wand and just managed to close his fingers over the small, struggling Snitch.
Madam Hooch's whistle sounded. Harry turned around in midair and saw six scarlet blurs bearing down on him; next moment, the whole team was hugging him so hard he was nearly pulled off his broom. Down below he could hear the roars of the Gryffindors in the crowd.
"That's my boy!" Wood kept yelling. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie had all kissed Harry; Fred had him in a grip so tight Harry felt as though his head would come off. In complete disarray, the team managed to make its way back to the ground. Harry got off his broom and looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters sprinting onto the field, Dean and Seamus in the lead. Before he knew it, he had been engulfed by the cheering crowd.
"Yes!" Ginny yelled, yanking Harry's arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"
"Well done, Harry!" said Percy, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me -"
"Good for you, Harry!" roared Seamus.
"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.
"That was quite some Patronus," said a voice in Harry's ear.
Harry turned around to see Professor Flitwick, who looked both shaken and pleased.
"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" Harry said excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"
"That would be because they - er - weren't Dementors," said Professor Lupin. "Come and see - "
He led Harry out of the crowd until they were able to see the edge of the field.
"You gave Mr. Nott quite a fright," said Flitwick.
Harry stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Parkinson had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Lyra.
"You idiots!" she was screeching, her wand pointed at Theo Nott, who looked terrified. "You no good damn bastards! What were you thinking!"
"Why do you care?" Nott spoke up. "It's just stupid Potter."
Lyra gave out a hiss and lunged forward, punching him in the nose. Immediately Blaise and Daphne came in, pulling her back. She was hissing expletives at Nott, who clutched his bloody nose. Then Professor McGonagall swooped onto the scene.
"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"
If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Lyra doubled up with angry laughter as they watched Nott fighting to extricate himself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.
"Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"
"Right," said Harry, and feeling happier than he had in ages, he and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet robes, out of the stadium and back up to the castle.
It felt as though they had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.
"How did you do that?" squealed Angelina Johnson as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.
"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred muttered in Harry's ear.
Sirius Black had broken into Gryffindor Tower with a knife. Harry was left wondering how the hell it could have happened. Neville had apparently left the passwords on a piece of paper that Black had stolen, and used to get in. The idiot Sir Cadogan had been replaced with the Fat Lady, though she was guarded by trolls.
Harry had said nothing when it came to Neville's password paper losing, but he personally thought that Neville should have been more careful. There were many charms to make sure objects didn't stray from a person.
Ron had called Neville an idiot to his face, and Hermione had just expressed her disapproval through pursed lips. At this point Neville was pretty alone in the house, and though Dean and Seamus had expressed sympathy for the chubby boy he had told them off, saying that he didn't want sympathy.
Harry thought it was kind of dumb to reject people trying to be nice, but he didn't comment, preferring to work on homework, the patronus charm, and his duelling. He had started practice duelling with Professor Flitwick every week, and even though he never managed to land a hit on the pint-sized professor, he was improving.
Ron, on the other hand, had become an instant celebrity since he had been the person to find Black standing over him with a knife. For the first time in his life, people were paying more attention to him than to Harry, and it was clear that Ron was rather enjoying the experience. Though still severely shaken by the night's events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail.
"... I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft...I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down...I rolled over...and I saw him standing over me...like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair...holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches...and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scampered.
"Why, though?" Ron added to Harry as the group of second year girls who had been listening to his chilling tale departed. "Why did he run?"
Harry had been wondering the same thing. Why had Black, having got the wrong bed, not silenced Ron and proceeded to Harry? Black had proved twelve years ago that he didn't mind murdering innocent people, and this time he had been facing five unarmed boys, four of whom were asleep.
"He must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once you'd yelled and woken people up," said Harry thoughtfully. "He'd've had to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole...then he would've met the teachers..."
Two days after Black's break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast - a Howler.
The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. Harry and Ron, who were sitting opposite him, recognized the letter as a Howler at once - Ron had got one from his mother the year before.
"Run for it, Neville," Ron advised.
Neville didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope, and holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall - Neville's grandmother's voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the whole family. Harry opened his own letter.
Dear Harry and Ron,
How about having tea with me this afternoon 'round six? I'll come collect you from the castle. WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL; YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN.
Cheers,
Hagrid
"He probably wants to hear all about Black!" said Ron.
So at six o'clock that afternoon, Harry and Ron left Gryffindor Tower, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the entrance hall.
Hagrid was already waiting for them.
"All right, Hagrid!" said Ron. "S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you?"
"I've already heard all abou' it," said Hagrid, opening the front doors and leading them outside.
"Oh," said Ron, looking slightly put out. Harry stifled a laugh at his obvious disappointment.
Hagrid poured them tea and offered them a plate of Bath buns but they knew better than to accept; they had had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking.
"I got somethin' ter discuss with you two," said Hagrid, sitting himself between them and looking uncharacteristically serious.
"What?" said Harry.
"Hermione," said Hagrid.
"What about her?" said Ron.
"She's in a righ' state, that's what. She's bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin feelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to her because o' the Firebolt, and yeh still aren'."
Harry immediately closed off. "Frankly, Hagrid," he started, "Hermione dug her own grave. I would take her back as a friend if she apologized to Luna but she still hasn't."
"Luna?" Hagrid asked. "Er, who?"
"Luna Lovegood." Harry reiterated. "Hermione called her loony and said that her word couldn't be trusted because she was mad. Luna's my friend, and until Hermione apologizes I want nothing to do with her."
On that note Harry left the cabin with a thanks to Hagrid for his hospitality. Back in the classroom Luna sat with him on the ground, looking at the stars. Harry had found the charm used on the Great Hall ceiling in a book and enchanted their ceiling to look like it too.
"You need to forgive her." Luna advised him. "Your heart is the most precious thing you have. Don't lose it."
"Hi!" Lyra bounced in cheerfully.
"Hey Lyra." Draco grinned at her, reclined from where he was in Susan's lap and reading a book.
"Ready for Hogsmeade?" she asked.
"Definitely." Hannah grinned, looking up from where she and Susan were practicing Healing spells on each other.
"I heard they got a new candy in stock." Draco said eagerly.
"You and your sweet tooth." Daphne chuckled.
"It's not that big." Draco defended himself.
"No, it's huge." Harry stated dryly.
"That's what she said." Fred and George jeered, making Harry wish he had never introduced the two mischief makers to muggle jokes.
"Those stupid jokes." Susan rolled her eyes.
"Come on." Lee told them. "We should get to Hogsmeade. Ginny's already gone ahead and has an idea for a new prank."
Harry perked up at that. "What's it about?" he asked.
"Cows." Lee smirked deviously. "She wants to dump a cow in the Ravenclaw Tower, and give it flatulence. Not just any cow, a pregnant cow. Once who is minutes from giving birth."
At hearing this Daphne choked on her pumpkin juice and started spluttering incoherently. Seeing the ice princess so confused had Harry laughing his head off.
Hogsmeade was excellent; Honeydukes had put a new candy called Crawling Gommies in, and if one didn't bite the Gommy in a few seconds it would start crawling down their throat. Harry took great pleasure in watching Draco suck one down his throat with a choked expression.
"How are we supposed to get a cow though?" Harry asked Ginny quizzically as they walked the countryside with Fred, George, and Lee.
"I don't know how-" she paused, listening to a rustling.
"Quick, under the cloak!" Fred hissed, and Ginny dove in just as the rustling gained a new volume.
It was a big black dog.
"The Grim!" George yelped.
"If it was the Grim we'd be dead." Harry laughed, before inching towards the dog. "Hey boy. I'm Harry Potter, what's your name?"
"Dogs can't talk genius." Ginny quipped as she came out from under the cloak. Much to her surprise the dog let out a yelp of surprise.
"You scared him." Harry pouted. "Don't scare him!"
"You need to give him a name." Fred stated thoughtfully.
"Hmm…" Harry thought. "How about Snuffles?"
"WHAT?" George looked offended. "You're the son of the most famous Prongs Harry! You can't be badass with a dog named Snuffles!"
"Padfoot." Lee pointed out. "Padfoot sounds like a dog's name, and it's the name of one of the marauders."
"Yeah, the one who cusses a lot on the map." Fred snorted.
"Padfoot." Harry declared, petting the scruffy black dog. "I like it, but I already have Hedwig. I don't think I'd be able to keep him."
"We could take him for a walk." Lee said. "Just for this afternoon."
"Yeah." Harry agreed. "Now Ginny, what were you saying about cows?"
"I was saying that even if we manage to sneak a pregnant cow into Ravenclaw Tower there's still the matter of finding a pregnant cow."
Padfoot let out a doglike bark of laughter, dispelling the myth that dogs couldn't laugh.
"Is he laughing?" Fred asked stunned.
"Apparently." George smirked. "Think he can understand us?"
"Hi, I'm Harry Potter!" Harry bent down to the dog, ignoring Ginny's 'You already said that'. "I'm in Gryffindor, and these are my friends Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley and Lee Jordan. We're working on a prank. Fred and George are the best pranksters at Hogwarts except for the marauders."
Padfoot let out a bark, and with a sad look in his grey eyes he bounded off.
"Weird dog." Lee commented. "So, back to the cow…"
Harry's charms lesson on Cheering Charms went extremely well, and by the time it was over he was in an excellent mood.
"What's for lunch?" Harry asked with a broad grin.
"D'ya know where Hermione is?" Ron asked. "She's missing."
"Check the tower." Harry shrugged.
The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third years had never had so much homework. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.
"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"
But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.
Harry, meanwhile, had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.
"So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up," Wood told Harry constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, Haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're -"
"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Harry yelled.
The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been Seeker. But Harry doubted whether any of them, even Wood, wanted to win as much as he did.
"We're going to win." Lyra commented idly as they sat together on the Astronomy Tower, looking at the stars.
"No way." Harry scoffed. "I'll crush Draco."
"Yeah, but we have better brooms overall, and our beaters are better."
Harry raised his eyebrow. "Fred and George are like human bludgers. Wanna bet?"
Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears. Draco had apologized about the incident, but it had started a prank war between the two seekers.
Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere he went, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry to get to classes on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Harry was more concerned for his Firebolt's safety than his own. When he wasn't flying it, he locked it securely in his trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there.
Him and Draco's prank war had gotten worse and worse until both of them ended up in the hospital ing after transforming each other into vapory ghost like things and were unable to move.
All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.
"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.
There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George Weasley were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Harry was sitting with Dean, Ginny, and Seamus, removed from the center of things, trying not to think about the next day, because every time he did, he had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of his stomach.
"You're going to be fine," Ginny told him, though she looked positively terrified.
"You've got a Firebolt!" said Dean.
"Yeah ..." said Harry, his stomach writhing.
It came as a relief when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"
Harry woke up in the middle of the night from nerves, his stomach shaking. He was feeling very thirsty. Quietly as he could, he got out of his four-poster and went to pour himself some water from the silver jug beneath the window.
The grounds were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent-looking. It looked as though the conditions for the match would be perfect.
Harry set down his goblet and was about to turn back to his bed when something caught his eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn.
Harry dashed to his bedside table, snatched up his glasses, and put them on, then hurried back to the window. It couldn't be Padfoot- where had he come from?
He peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute's frantic searching, spotted it. It was skirting the edge of the forest now...It wasn't the black dog at all ... it was a cat ... Harry clutched the window ledge in relief as he recognized the bottlebrush tail. It was only Crookshanks...
Or was it only Crookshanks? Harry squinted, pressing his nose flat against the glass. Crookshanks seemed to have come to a halt. Harry was sure he could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees too.
And just then, it emerged - a gigantic, shaggy black dog, moving stealthily across the lawn, Crookshanks trotting at its side. Harry stared. He hadn't seen the black dog in a very long time, and Padfoot seemed to be good friends with Crookshanks.
Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. Harry couldn't help grinning broadly as he saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Harry noticed that Malfoy looked even paler than usual.
Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the Harry ate he saw Draco approaching the table. All of their hands went to their wands, but Harry waved them away. The hall was silent.
"May the best seeker win." Draco said, holding out his hand to shake. With a challenging grin Harry shook his hand and echoed the blonde's words.
As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.
"Okay - no wind to speak of - sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it - ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kickoff -"
Wood paced the field, staring around with the team behind him. Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spilling onto the lawn.
"Locker rooms," said Wood tersely.
None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. Harry wondered if they were feeling like he was: as though he'd eaten something extremely wriggly for breakfast. In what seemed like no time at all, Wood was saying, "Okay, it's time, let's go -"
They walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP" Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.
"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years -"
Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of 'boos' from the Slytherin end. Harry laughed as his dark friend gave them all a occamy-like shriek to shut them up. Harry decided that his friends animagus was probably an occamy. He introduced the Slytherin team, and soon the teams rocketed into the air.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinner of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no - Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing UP the field - WHAM! - nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by - Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina - nice swerve around Lyra Malfoy- duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight
"OUCH!"
Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.
"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"
A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.
"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"
"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.
"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Lyra fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.
"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Lyra waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass - very difficult indeed - YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"
Relieved, Harry zoomed away, gazing around for the Snitch, but still making sure he caught every word of Lee's commentary. It was essential that he hold Draco off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty points up -
"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession - no! Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field - THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"
Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart-wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.
Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.
"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING -"
"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way -"
"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"
Harry felt a huge jolt of excitement. He had seen the Snitch - it was shimmering at the foot of one of the Gryffindor goal posts - but he mustn't catch it yet - and if Draco saw it -
Faking a look of sudden concentration, Harry pulled his Firebolt around and sped off toward the Slytherin end - it worked. Malfoy went haring after him, clearly thinking Harry had seen the Snitch there...
WHOOSH.
One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again...
WHOOSH.
The second Bludger grazed Harry's elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.
Harry had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward him, clubs raised - He turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.
"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle - Chaser Malfoy alongside her - poke him in the eye, Angelina! - it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke - oh no - Malfoy in possession, Malfoy flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save -!"
But she had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.
"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession -"
It was turning into the dirtiest game Harry had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.
The Snitch had disappeared again. Draco was still keeping close to Harry as he soared over the match, looking around for it once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead -
Katie scored. Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.
Madam Hooch was beside herself -
"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"
And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal - seventy-ten.
The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse - Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Harry could almost feel hundreds of eyes following him as he soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Draco speeding along behind him.
And then he saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above him.
Harry put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in his ears; he stretched out his hand, but suddenly, a bat slammed into his shoulder and Harry was pushed out of the play, his arm hanging limply near his broom. Harry estimated that it was at least broken if not dislocated.
Horrified, he looked around. Bole had whammed something straight at him while Fred and George were distracted.
"You -"
"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Bole was grabbing his bat from the ground where he had thrown in at Harry.
"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B -"
Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.
Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Bole's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.
"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal - Malfoy scores -" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor..."
Harry was now marking Draco so closely their knees kept hitting each other. Harry wasn't going to let him anywhere near the Snitch...
"Get out of it, Harry!" he yelled in frustration as he tried to turn and found Harry blocking him.
"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"
Harry looked around. Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper - they were all going to block her - Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins.
"AAAAAAARRRGH!"
They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina's way was clear.
"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!"
Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field.
And then he saw something to make his heart stand still. Draco was diving, a look of triumph on his face - there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer -
Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Draco was miles ahead -
"Go! Go! Go!" Harry urged his broom. He was gaining on Draco- Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Derrick sent a Bludger at him - he was at Draco's ankles - he was level -
Harry threw himself forward, took both hands off his broom. He knocked Draco's arm out of the way and -
"YES!"
He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in his ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers.
Then Wood was speeding toward him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Harry felt two large thumps as Fred and George hit them; then Angelina's, Alicia's, and Katie's voices, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.
Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Harry had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on him. Then he, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, he saw Hagrid, Plastered with crimson rosettes - "Yeh beat 'em, Harry, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!"
There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Harry, were Ron and Hermione. Words failed them. They simply beamed as Harry was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.
"Congratulations." Lyra told him, her silver eyes sparkling as she dismounted. "You played well." and then she kissed him on the cheek before going off with the rest of the team.
Harry felt his cheek burn, and a grin that had nothing to do with winning the cup stretched across his face. If only there had been a Dementor around...As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus.