Anything you recognize from Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling
Author's Note: Hello everyone. Some text from the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone - they don't belong to me. In the last chapter, I said that I was aiming for 9 or ten reviews. I got 9 I think. This time I'm aiming for 12 Happy reading, everyone.
Chapter Ten
A harsh screech erupted from his mouth as he soared through the clouds. He folded his wings in a bit and swooped down, screeching again. His tail feathers, tinged with red, stood out in contrast to his pale gray back and feathers. He caught a glimspe of his reflection in the lake and noted that there was still the jagged silver streak on his beak. He had black streaks on each side of his face and his chest was white. His talons skimmed the lake water as he flew, pulling out of his dive. He headed to the ground and perched on a tree branch.
Then he felt pain. Sudden, throbbing pain in his left wing. A large snake was hissing at it. He saw a bit of blood trickle down his right wing and screeched at the snake before taking off. He wobbled a bit and fell down to the lake, into darkness.
Harry woke with a gasp. He knew what he had dreamed of. He had seen the animal once, when he had been dragged to a corner of the park by Dudley. A bird had swooped down on Dudley and had screeched at him, making an odd sound. It had chased Dudley all the way back to his house and Harry had been locked in his cupboard for a week, only being let out to use the washroom, before being allowed out completely once again. It was a peregrine falcon, a bird of prey.
Harry stood up from his bed (in his quarters, Madam Pomfrey had already healed him) and set out, making sure to stay quiet. He headed outside and sat down, leaning against a tree and gazing across the lake. It was one of his favorite spots. He glanced at his watch. 11:00 PM. It was two hours past curfew. Harry's lips twisted in amusement as he imagined what Snape would have to say about this if he saw him.
He recalled Professor McGonagall's words. Animal feelings are simpler than humans ... He considered trying to transform into a dog but decided against it, knowing it was too risky. He had read in multiple books that several wizards and witches had tried to transform, but had merely gotten stuck in that form, or had half of their animal form and half of their human form. As far as he felt, Harry definitely did not want a tail. So he merely combined the image of himself in his human form and the wolf.
Nightstreak blinked and yawned. "Tired," he murmured, pacing. He prodded the ground with his paws and then lay down, yawning once again. The young wolf cub's ears twitched as he heard the lake's gentle waves. It lulled him to sleep but before he closed his eyes Nightstreak huffed, "Peace." He yawned and then murmured once again, "Peace."
"Harry!"
Harry's eyes snapped open. He jumped to his feet when he saw Lan, Terry Boot, and Jason staring at him. The sun was up and Harry saw his reflection in the lake's water. He looked as normal as always ... Emerald green eyes, round glasses and extremely messy black hair. With a huff of annoyance, he tried to flatten the hair that was sticking up but failed as usual.
Terry chuckled a bit in amusement. "You're lucky it's Sunday, Harry," he said casually. "Otherwise McGonagall or some other teacher would be furious."
Harry glared at him but merely muttered, "What's the time?"
"Nine in the morning," Jason told him. "You missed breakfast. You must be hungry. That's too bad."
Harry groaned as his stomach rumbled. "Harry, we saved some for you," Lan told him, shooting a glare at Jason. She handed him toast and bacon wrapped in napkins.
"Thank you," Harry said gratefully. He wolfed it down and said, "No thanks to you, Jason."
Jason merely grinned at him. Harry stretched. "Did you see Ron?"!
"The Weasley boy?" Terry asked.
Harry nodded. "And Hermione."
"What do you want with them?" Lan asked, sounding a bit curious.
Harry shrugged. "Just want to see them."
"Well, Potter," Terry began. "The last I saw them, they were sitting at breakfast, doing what Gryffindors all do?"
"Eat?" Harry suggested dryly.
Terry shot him a nasty look, but it was filled with playfulness. Harry sighed and ruffled his hair. "I'll have to find them later."
"You just made it messier," Jason noted, staring at his hair. His own hair was neat and tidy. Harry glared at him, sent a kick to his kneecap and waved before running off to find Ron.
Harry was standing beside Ron, at the end of the line. The Gryffindors, Harry, and the Slytherins were about to have their first flying lessons. Harry was standing next to an old broom when Madam Hooch appeared. "Good morning, class," she greeted. The students replied. "Today is your first flying lesson. I want you to stand next to your broom reach out a hand and say 'UP!'"
Instantly, there were shouts of 'UP!'. "Up!" Harry's broom shot up into his hand and he started a bit.
"Good," Madam Hooch seemed satisfied when most of the brooms jumped to the students' hands. "Now, try mounting you broom. Grip the front of your broom. Now when I blow my whistle kick off from the ground. On my whistle - three, two-"
Neville Longbottom, a young Gryffindor first year, had been quivering with fear and had kicked off. He went spiraling into the air. "Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted at him.
But Neville was rising in the air. He was pale in the face and when he had reached about twenty feet into the air. Harry decided to take charge. He grabbed a hold of his broom and kicked up into the air. "POTTER! GET DOWN HERE!" Madam Hooch screamed at him, but he ignored her. Neville was now spiraling toward the middle of the Quidditch Field and Harry sped toward him, leaning forward.
Neville was now forty feet. If he fell Harry was positive he would have far more than a mere broken wrist. Harry urged the slow school broom to go as fast as it could, feeling as if he had been doing this all his life. He vaguely heard Madam Hooch screeching at him in the distance. Neville was deathly white in the face. About fifty feet in the air, he gasped and slipped off the broom. With a growl Harry dove, following the fast falling Neville Longbottom. A few inches from the ground Harry caught Neville on his broomstick and pulled up, making an air cushion with his Storm Magic just in case. His feet skimmed the grass and he headed back to the group.
Madam Hooch was pale and staring at him. Whispers and glances followed Harry as he helped Neville stand up. "Thanks, Potter," he said shakily.
"It's Harry," Harry replied.
"HARRY POTTER!"
A voice shouted along with Madam Hooch and the class winced at the yells. Professor McGonagall was storming toward Harry. Harry winced as she took a hold of his arm. "Follow me, Potter."
As if I have a choice, Harry thought, a bit bitterly.
"Professor Flitwick, may I borrow Wood for a moment, please?" Professor McGonagall said curtly, interrupting the Charms class Professor Flitwick had been teaching.
"Of course, Professor McGongall," Professor Flitwick replied.
Was Wood a cane she would use on him? Harry wondered, but soon his question was answered when a burly Gryffindor fifth year came out of the classroom.
"Out, Peeves!" Professor McGonagall barked at a ghost writing rude words on the blackboard of an empty classroom. Peeves the ghost blew a raspberry at her before swooping through the wall and out.
Professor McGonagall shut the door before saying, "Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood - I've found you a Seeker."
Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight. "Are you serious, Professor?" he asked.
"Absolutely," Professor McGonagall said crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"
Harry nodded silently, not sure of what was going on.
"He caught one of his classmates from a fifty foot drop dive. Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."
Wood now looked as if all his dreams had come true at once. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly.
"Wood is the captain of Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.
"He's just the build for a Seeker," Wood said, now eyeing Harry and walking around him. "Light - speedy - we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor. A Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."
"I shall speak to the Headmaster and see if we can't bend the rules for the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look at Severus Snape in the face for weeks!"
Harry was now utterly confused. "Wait - Professor? But I'm an Apprentice, I'm not in Gryffindor House ..." His voice trailed off.
Professor McGonagall conjured a book out of thin air and read, "If an Apprentice shows exceptional skills in Quidditch, the first Head of House who sees him fly may have the choice of inviting him to play a position." She peered at him sternly after vanishing the book. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind of punishing you." Then she smiled. "Your father would have been proud, he was an exceptional Quidditch player as well.
"You're joking."
It was dinnertime and Harry was sitting beside Terry Boot at the Ravenclaw table. "I'm not," Harry replied, taking a gulp out of his pumpkin juice.
"Seeker?" Terry said. "But first years never ... you must be the youngest house player in about-"
"A century," Harry finished for him. "Wood told me."
Terry was looking absolutely shocked and amazed. "I start training next week. Don't tell anyone, though. Wood wants to keep it a secret."
"Lucky, Harry!"
Harry turned around to see Ron standing behind him, smiling. Just then, Fred and George Weasley hurried through the hall, spotted Harry and headed over to him. "Well done," George said in a low voice. "Wood's just told us. We're on the team too - Beaters."
"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant! You must be really good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping with joy when he told us."
Fred and George disappeared when Draco Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle appeared. "Seeker, huh, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "And here I though you were heading back to the Muggles." Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly.
"Acting a bit brave in front of everyone, aren't you, Malfoy?" Harry replied coolly.
"I think you're a bit jealous," Terry put in. Malfoy shot him a nasty look but Terry met it with a cool look back.
"I'd take you on anytime, Potter," Malfoy spat at him. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a Wizard's Duel, I suppose?"
"Of course he has," Ron said, scowling deeply. "I'm his second, who's yours?"
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. "Crabbe," he said at last. "Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked and no one goes in there except to serve detention by polishing the awards."
When Malfoy was gone, Ron headed back to the Gryffindor table and Terry gave Harry a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "What is a Wizard's Duel?" Harry asked him. "And what does Ron mean, he's my second?"
"Well, there's second to take over if you die," Terry said, helping himself to some pudding. He caught the look on Harry's face and added quickly, "but you know, the firsts only die if its a real duel. The most you and Malfoy will be able to do is throw sparks at each other, maybe a few harmless spells or so."
"Harmless," Harry muttered, then rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it's very harmless."
"Harry, why did you agree?"
Harry jumped at Hermione's scolding. He blushed a bit before shrugging. "I couldn't help but overhear, but you really shouldn't-"
"Stay out of it, Hermione," Harry said quietly, but not rudely. "It's already done and agreed."
Hermione eyed him for a few moments, then stomped off.
What have I gotten myself into now? Harry thought wearily before eating some pudding.
End of Chapter Ten
Author's Note: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! They make me happy and I update quickly. Thank you!