Weeks passed, and the four friends were almost always seen together. They all were on top of their school work, and had started visiting Hagrid. While Michael was knocked unconscious from the Troll, apparently Harry had done some pretty impressive flying during his first lesson and instead of being expelled; he had been made Seeker of Gryffindor! The youngest Seeker in over a century, almost everyone was as excited for the first match as Harry's friends were. The only person who didn't seem excited was Harry, which Michael guessed was just nerves. The match wasn't until noon, and the boys were already up around 9.
"Whattaya say we go visit Hagrid, and then get somethin' to eat?" Surprisingly, it was Ron who proposed the idea. Ron would normally have asked to eat first, which surprised the both of them.
Michael shrugged his shoulders as he opened the door, while Harry relaxed a bit at the idea. "Maybe that will help me relax a bit."
Michael stood with the door open for his friends. "Oh, buzz off Harry. From the way Ron described how you can fly, you should be a Seeker for one of the professional teams."
At that, Harry smiled. He knew Ron always had a knack for over-exaggerating, and it was nice to hear he had such high regard for his friend after he was chosen as Seeker. He glanced over at Ron, who merely smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Let's go eat, then head down to Hagrid's." Harry knew the look that would transcribe on Ron's face, and it was pure excitement. The three of them made their way down to the Great Hall, only to run into no one other than Hagrid.
"'Ello boys, where ye off ter?" The half-giant rubbed his fingers in Ron's hair; making parts of it stick up. Ron fixed his hair while Harry answered him.
"Actually we were going down to the Great Hall and then heading over to see you before I had to go to the pitch." Michael felt his stomach growl, but not loud enough for the others to hear. He was wondering if Ron felt this hungry all the time, because he sure ate like he did.
"'Arry, you look dreadful. You best be off ter the Hall and eat somethin'. An' don't worry about me, I've best be off ter go get all o' the things ready for the match. Knock 'em dead 'Arry!" To that, Hagrid walked past the three of them, and was making his way towards the doors that led outside. Harry, Ron, and Michael looked at each other, and then walked into the Great Hall. Every time they walked in, they were simply always in awe. They couldn't help but gawk up towards the candle-lit ceiling, with its enchanted displays depending on the weather. The gazed at the hundreds of plates of food that lay perfectly atop each and every table, spreading from one end to the other. They all enjoyed it when it was crowded, but when it was nearly empty was when the boys' could appreciate the Hall the most. Being able to sit wherever they chose, and eat whatever they'd liked, was something they all enjoyed. Ron always had a strategy at attacking his morning meals. He would grab a plate of whatever he fancied closest to him, then inspect the table. He would find everything that he wanted, make two plates, and then travel back to where Michael and Harry were seated. He did it almost every time, and the other boys were used to it by now. He grabbed his plate, placed food on it, and then started walking around the table. Harry and Michael sat down and Michael started eating. By the time he finished his first plate of food, Ron was back with two plates and Harry had barely touched his. Michael had just noticed that, so he was the first to comment.
"Come on Harry, you've got to eat something. It's your first Quidditch match ever. Nerves are just nerves, everybody has em." Harry looked up from his plate, and grabbed a piece of toast and started half-heartedly biting it, hoping the food would just dissolve in his mouth so he had to put less focus into eating than he did worrying about the match. "Chew Harry, or do mummy Ronnie and I have to do that for you?" Harry shot Michael a look, and finally started eating. At ten o'clock the owls normally did their morning sweep-ins, and Michael immediately saw Hedwig carrying a huge package, with Ollie next to her carrying much smaller mail. Hedwig was so strong that she was able to hover over the table and lightly place the package on it, then landed next to Harry to get his affection before lifting off and heading out. Ollie dropped off a newspaper and a letter and then did the same as Hedwig, clearly searching for her missing affection, then lifted off as well. Michael put his mail aside, and was staring at the package Harry had gotten. He looked almost as surprised as his friends. "But I… I never get mail."
Ron looked like he was about to fall off the chair waiting for Harry to open it. "Come on, Harry, open it! I think I know what it is!" To that, Harry reached up and started tearing apart the wrapping to reveal a broomstick. Ron made a gasping sound and Michael just laughed at him. "My God, Harry! That's a Nimbus 2000!" The three of them stared at it for a while, and then Michael interrupted their gazing.
"Does is say who it came from?" Harry searched from a letter or a signature, but there was nothing. He started searching around the room, until he saw Professor McGonagall smiling down at the boys. Harry gave her a smile and nodded his head, then picked up the broom and made way to leaving the Great Hall. Ron moaned in disagreement but left the table as well, and the three went down to fly on Harry's new broom next to the Quidditch pitch. An hour passed, and by then it was time for the players to meet so Harry grabbed his broom and said goodbye to his friends. Michael and Ron decided to go get Hermione before you got lost in her studies, but sure enough as they started to make their way back to the castle, she appeared over the hill. She smiled at the site of Ron and Michael, and then they waited as she started her walk down. Once she reached them they all said their 'hello's' and asking how their mornings were. Ron finally interrupted, "Harry got a new broomstick from Professor McGonagall! A Nimbus 2000 Hermione, you should have seen how fast it is!"
She laughed and had to remind Ron where they were. "Ron, we're about to see Harry fly the broom in his first Quidditch match, obviously I'll see how fast it is. Although I did read about broomsticks before coming to Hogwarts and it says that…" Hermione started rambling about the Nimbus 2000 and it's specifics that made it unique from other brooms, and to the Michael knew that Ron wasn't listening. It was flashy, fast, and new and that was all Ron needed to know in order to enjoy it. Once Hermione finished, Michael suggested they make their way to the stands so they didn't have to get the back rows. Hermione and Ron agreed, and then they made their way to the Gryffindor stands, and were lucky enough to run into Draco Malfoy heading to the Slytherin stands.
"Ah, look who it is. Weasley, Morgan, and little miss Granger. Coming to watch Harry's demise, are you? I, myself, hope that Harry doesn't happen to fall off his broom. At that height, it'd be a nasty fall to survive." Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him, one on either side, and they both laughed at Draco's terrible jokes.
Michael was the one to reply: Ron was too busy clenching his fists while Hermione looked like she was about to slap him. "No, actually we came here to watch the youngest Seeker in a century make history. Something that you, unfortunately, will never be able to say for yourself." He gave a dirty smile at Draco, and Draco replied back with a look of disgust. "For someone as highly regarded as you, Morgan, I'd expect you to travel with the proper wizards, rather than your current pack of dogs. They might as well beg for your attention, since you're the only one who gives them any."
Ron had lost it, made a leap at Malfoy but Michael made sure to grab him and pull him back. "Piss off Malfoy!" Ron yelled as Michael kept pulling him back. Malfoy and his crew laughed at him, and he was about to reply before Michael interrupted him. "At least their loyal for me." Malfoy had believed he had won, so he snapped his fingers and Crabbe and Goyle turned and left. Malfoy was close behind them before he turned around and said, "Next time, the three of you won't be standing at the end of our conversation" and left. Michael finally let go of Ron when he felt he wasn't going to lunge himself at anyone anytime soon.
"You should've let me have a go at him!" Ron was pacing back and forth, clearly distraught at what Malfoy said.
Michael cleaned himself up; fixing his robes that Ron had wrinkled up while he was trying to break free from his hold. "Ron, do you honestly think you could have taken on Crabbe Goyle and Malfoy with only me and Hermione to defend you? No, the smarter move was to just mess with his head, like he did with yours."
Ron's face lit up at the comment. "Like Mine?! He called Hermione and me a pack of dogs. Obviously he got into my bloody head; I wanted to hit the little bloke right in his face until you stopped me."
Hermione finally butted in, apparently finding her voice again. "Ron, Michael's right. He was trying to egg us on, he knew he had a better chance in this situation and he was trying to take advantage of that. Just relax, Michael handled things. Now let's go to the stands before we get screwed and have to sit up top where we won't be able to see."
Ron calmed down on their walk up to the stands, and lucky enough they got front row seats to Harry's first Quidditch match, and before they knew it, the Gryffindor's were all flying out into the air. Led by Oliver Wood and Harry, they poured out over the pitch and they all did their own pre-game flying patterns. Harry merely paced around the field once then flew over to his starting point. Then the Slytherin's came out, did their pre-flight patterns and before they knew it, Madam Hooch was on the ground letting out all of the balls for the match, letting the Golden Snitch out first, giving it a head start to find a place to escape to, then letting out the two Bludgers that nearly knocked three players off their brooms already, and then she grabbed the Quaffle, walked into the middle of the pitch, blew her whistle and threw it up into the air. Angelina Johnson snatched the Quaffle out of the air and tossed it back to Alicia Finnet, who took off towards the Slytherin goal posts. The played a game of catch, tossing it back and forth in order to avoid any oncoming Slytherin players trying to steal it. Finally Angelina made a dive towards the ground and then a quick pull-up, caught the Quaffle from Alicia and then wound up her throw, before blasting it through the goal posts that the Slytherin keeper wasn't fast enough to save. Michael, Hermione and Ron went wild, as did the rest of the Gryffindor's. They looked up to see Harry on his broom clapping, then stopped and started searching for the Snitch again. The game went on, and Gryffindor was up 70-30 before the Slytherin captain made a bold move. He snatched the bat from one of his Beaters and slammed a bludger straight at Oliver Wood, who stopped it but fell straight to the ground after that. Madam Hooch wasn't watching that, so the game continued on. Angelina Johnson caught the first ball headed towards the goal, but she wasn't able to stop the next few attempts. Out of what felt like thin air, Gryffindor's lead was now only 10 points, leaving them at 70-60.
Harry was pissed. He knew the only way they would win this game now was if he caught the Snitch. And he was more determined than ever to do so. Oliver had been great to him as he introduced Quidditch and coached him on the rules, and he was going to be sure to win this game for him. The nerves that were overcoming him prior to the game had long been subdued and now was the time for Harry to make his move. He was searching near the towers that the students were seated in, he saw Michael and Ron and Hermione wave at him, then saw Michael's head turn, and sure enough, the Golden Snitch was flying around his head, and then made a dive towards the ground. Harry took off immediately, heading straight for the tower, then doing an upside-down loop and now he was making a straight dive towards the ground. The snitch was fast, and it was able to be extremely maneuverable, so when it was about to hit the ground it made a swift change in direction so it started heading towards the center of the pitch. Harry knew he had to do something quickly, so he placed his feet on the back-end of his broom, and thrust downward, making the broom change directions almost on a perfect 90 degree angle. He kept his feet on the back-end, with his hands on the front, and once he was close enough, he made a leap for the Snitch. He rolled about twenty feet once he hit the ground, and then lay with his eyes facing the sky. He felt like he was going to throw-up. He rolled over, placed his weight on his knees and his hands on the ground for support, and then he barfed. Or so he thought. Instead of vomit covering the area, the Golden Snitch sat in front of him, its wings constricted and not able to move. Harry picked it up and heard Lee Jordan on the announcer screaming "HARRY'S GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS! EAT THAT SLYTHER… sorry Professor." Harry stood up; still looking at the snitch, then raised his hand in the air for the stadium to see.
That night in the common room was one of Harry's best. The Gryffindor's had lifted him up above their heads and were all patting him and asking to see the Snitch. It was as if Gryffindor wasn't use to beating Slytherin at Quidditch, or anything else for that matter. They had been last the past few years in Quidditch and in the house cup winnings. Harry had given them all hope to a new beginning, and for that he was awarded with numerous amounts of greetings and congratulations. He finally got some time away from the crowd, and made his way over to Michael, Ron and Hermione. "So… how did I do?"
Ron was the first to speak, practically screaming from his excitement. "How'd you do? You were bloody brilliant out there Harry! And you thought you weren't going to be good at Quidditch, are you crazy?! That move you did when you were in a dive was absolutely mental! And yet you pulled it off as if you had practiced that before!"
Everyone rolled their eyes and laughed at Ron, and then Hermione interrupted. "Actually I knew Harry wasn't going to be awful. It's in your blood."
To that, Harry was curious. "What do you mean, 'it's in my blood?'" Hermione merely shrugged and said, "Follow me, I'll show you."
The three of them followed Hermione to a trophy case on the fourth floor, and to Harry's surprise, there in the middle sat a trophy with his father's name on it. 'James Potter. Gryffindor Chaser and Captain. 1971-1978." Harry had no idea his father played Quidditch, or that he had been a captain. For a moment, he was too busy gazing to hear Hermione and Ron talking to him. Then he snapped out of his trance and they all left, because it was time to head down to the Great Hall for their dinner feast.
As they were walking to the Great Hall, they ran into Professor Quirll. He had an awkward walk and the turban that was wrapped around his head look limp and not like his usual self. He stopped at the sight of them, and then waited for them to walk over to him. "H-h-hello Mr. P-Potter. Excellent j-job today down at t-t-the Quidditch game. Can't tell you how p-pleased I was to see you alr-right." Ron gave Michael a look and he started to giggle, but held it in best he could. Everyone knew Professor Quirll was quiet and had a stuttering problem, he normally tried not to speak at all unless he was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, so Harry must've done something rather brilliant for him to break that comfort zone.
"Thank you Professor. If you don't mind my asking, are you alright? I've noticed you hurt your leg and you've had a limp ever since that Troll broke into the castle." Harry pointed down at the Professor's leg, and he immediately pulled his cloak over it to hide whatever was underneath it then he gave his reply.
"Yes I'm a-alright. Just a c-c-cut is all. Nothing Madam Pomphrey c-cant m-mend. Mr. M-Morgan, I f-f-found these in the Great H-Hall earlier. Here y-y-you are. I best be o-off." He started limping past the four of them, and they all gave one another quizzical looks, wondering what was up with their Professor at the mentioning of his leg. Michael looked at what the Professor had handed him to find that it was his letters and newspaper that Ollie had dropped off. He must have forgotten them at the table in the excitement over Harry's new broom. "Does anyone else think that was a bit off?" Hermione asked and they all agreed with her but no one had an explanation.
Once they made it down to the Great Hall, Ron started to dig in to the food immediately. Harry and Hermione sat down and were talking about Astronomy class later that evening, and Michael started to read his letters. The first was from his father,
"Hello son. I hope that school has treated you well and you are enjoying it as much as I did when I first went to Hogwarts. From what you told me in your last letter, Hogwarts has become much more home to you than being here with me, and I'm glad to hear that. It's nice that you have made new friends as well, and I'm sure that you and Harry Potter have made quite a duo at school, along with your other friends Ron and Hermione. I'm not sure if you and Harry have talked about your pasts but if you have, I'm sure he has found it easier to confide in someone that knows what he is dealing with. Anyways, enough talk about that I hear that you're quite the bookworm at school from some of my pals at the Ministry. Mr. Weasley tells me that you have been helping Ron with some of his homework assignments, very well done son. Anyways I have to be off, I've just received word of a kidnapping from one You Know Who's previous Cruciatis victims. The second this week, something doesn't feel right. Well enjoy the rest of school until Christmas, which you are welcome to stay there if you'd like to be with your friends. Or they can come here, whichever you and they decide.
With love, Your Father."
Michael was puzzled at the mention of 'You Know Who' in his letters, but he pushed it aside and started scanning the front page of the paper for anything interesting until he came across the headlines. "VICTIM OF YOU KNOW WHO KIDNAPPED." Michael's eye's had widened and he started to read the article.
"The Care of Magical Creatures Professor at Hogwarts named Arlington Fernsby has been kidnapped. No one knows who did it or where he was taken, but it is known that he was taken from the town near Hogwarts known as Hogsmeade. There were no witnesses to the kidnapping, and there are still questions as to the kidnapper's intentions, but what is known is that the kidnapping occurred extremely close to the Hogwarts, putting students in danger. Auror's Kevin Morgan and Kingsley Shacklebolt are heading into the town for answer. 'Story continued on page 8.'"
Above the text was a moving photo of his father and Kingsley examining where the crime had taken place. Michael looked up to see Hermione across from him staring at him, clearly knowing that something was up. "What is it, Michael? What's wrong?" Harry and Ron stopped eating and looked up at Michael, who then moved his eyes from one body to the next.
"The Professor that gave me my Hogwarts acceptance letter… well he's on the front page of the Daily Prophet. He's been kidnapped."