Chapter 14 – Winter Games
The next Hogsmeade weekend wasn't until February, which was good for Harry, as he and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team needed every available moment to practice. Although they currently were in second place after Ravenclaw, Slytherin was only thirty points behind them, and Angelina wanted to make sure they racked up as many points as they could in the next match against Hufflepuff.
Madam Hooch was kind enough to clear the pitch of all the snow, as there was now over three meters of densely packed powder. Dean Thomas had mentioned that morning that this was a skier's wildest dream, which of course confused his Muggle-illiterate roommates.
"Who would be insane enough to strap two pieces of wood to their feet?" Neville had asked incredulously. "Sounds like an invitation to break your neck to me."
"That's what makes it so exciting and fun," Dean replied with a devilish grin. "The risk, the speed, the possibility that at any moment you could hit a rock… or a tree… or fall off a cliff…"
"It's about as safe as flying a broomstick, Neville," Harry interjected at his friend's horrified expression.
Neville just shook his head. "And you don't see me flying all that much, do you?" he said, that one simple sentence reminding his friends that he was a less than stellar flier.
…………
Harry released the snitch, and waited a minute before kicking off the ground. 'At least it's too cold for people to watch us practice,' he thought gratefully. Malfoy and his Slytherin fan club had taken it upon themselves to show up at nearly all of the Gryffindor practices once they'd heard that Harry was wearing the helmet that Fred and George had given as a birthday present. After that fall in the beginning of the year, he didn't want to take any chances that the person(s) responsible for hexing him off his broom (which of course he still suspected was Malfoy) would wish to try their hand at it again.
Ginny and Dennis Creevey, of all people, had meshed into quite the formidable pair as Beaters, and had even gained the grudging respect of the Weasley twins after they'd visited just to watch the previous match against Slytherin. The two new Beaters showed no fear and quite a bit of ruthlessness as they teamed up on their opponents, and they were now working on a new strategy that Dennis called "tag-teaming". Harry recognized one of the maneuvers as being modified from a Muggle sport called tag-team wrestling, of which Dudley was an avid fan of, and he almost felt sorry for the Hufflepuff players come the game next week.
Harry was glad he'd worn the extra wool sweater under his Quidditch robes, as well as the fingerless gloves that Hermione had knitted for him. His breath practically froze on his lips as he flew high above his teammates. The day was a bit overcast, with yet more storm clouds gathering to the north and east, but the sun seemed stubbornly determined to give as much light and warmth as it could in the time it had, and Harry briefly closed his eyes and turned his face gratefully towards it. The frigid wind whistled in his ears, suddenly giving his broom a mild shove, and the raven-haired teen brought his attention back to the task at hand. Far below him, he saw that Ginny and Dennis had managed to knock Angelina off of her broom, and she dangled one-handed from it for a moment before hoisting herself back on.
"Well done, you two!" her exuberant voice drifted up to Harry's ears. He smiled, and decided he'd given the snitch enough time to get itself good and "lost". He directed his broom down closer to his teammates, and squinted his eyes against the snow's glare as he searched for the elusive golden ball. As Harry drifted towards the goal opposite from the one Ron was protecting, he heard the whistle of a Bludger as it hurtled towards him. He turned to see the wicked ball speeding straight for his belly, and at the last second Harry dropped his broom into a sharp dive to avoid it. He heard Ginny shout, "Show off!", and he couldn't help but chuckle as he pulled out of the dive about three meters from the ground. Plenty of room, really.
The sunlight glinted off of a darting object fluttering a little above the Slytherin stands, and Harry urged his broom to speed towards the snitch. It led him a merry chase, darting back and forth between the spectator stands, but it just couldn't dodge his keen eyes.
Until, that is, Harry caught a glimpse of something large and dark hurtling along the ground towards him, and he pulled up just short of grasping the snitch, his stomach clenching in sudden anxiety. As a precaution, Harry quickly rose in the air, his broom hopefully carrying him out of the reach of the… of the …
Wolf. Not just any wolf, but a huge, black wolf with long shaggy fur that could easily carry Harry on its back. And as Harry looked closer at it, he noticed that its eyes were a deep sapphire blue.
The gigantic canine completely ignored the humans flying in the field, and instead chased the golden snitch, its tongue lolling out of its mouth in an obvious grin. With a tremendous surge of powerful haunches, the wolf soared into the air and snatched the tiny winged ball, twisted its body midair, and landed crouched on all fours with a loud "Grrrrruff!"
"Hey! Knock that off!" Ron shouted, and the wolf's head reared up, its ears twitching towards the loud noise. It cocked its head to the side inquiringly, and then gave a great sniff. The wolf's head swiveled around, and it regarded Harry for a moment before once again displaying a very canine grin. It crouched its front end down to the snow and suddenly opened its mouth, letting the struggling snitch go. Immediately the golden ball tried to zip away, and the wolf watched it for a few seconds before suddenly pouncing and once again and capturing the ball in its great mouth.
Harry couldn't help himself; he laughed. Wherever this animal came from, it was having the time of its life playing with the snitch! But as the wolf opened its mouth once more, Harry noticed that one of the wings was bent at a weird angle. The wolf made as if to pounce on the hapless enchanted orb again, and Harry called out, "Oy!"
The wolf paused, looking at the teen inquisitively. Harry directed his broom down towards the damaged snitch, and Angelina called out behind him, "Harry, don't! You don't know if that thing's safe!"
The wolf swung its gaze up to the team captain, and all Harry could say is that the look the animal shot at the girl was of pure disdain; as if it were saying, 'Why would I ever want to hurt this human?'. It plopped down onto the snow, obviously to show that it wasn't threatening, and Harry called over his shoulder, "It's okay, Angelina. I think it just wants to play!"
"Right, some great giant beastie comes out of nowhere and wants to play fetch?!" Ron bellowed in concern, but Harry had a strong feeling that he wasn't in any danger. He ignored his teammates' protests, and flew over to the snitch, carefully grasping it in his half-frozen fingers.
The wolf merely laid there on its side, its ears turned forward, watching him expectantly.
"Look, you need to not play with this," Harry explained as he displayed the snitch. "See? One of the wings is broken now."
The wolf's intense blue eyes widened a little, and all Harry could say is that it looked guilty. The great animal briefly lowered its head, and then looked up at him forlornly. Harry chuckled.
"If you want to play, that's fine, but we're trying to practice here," he said with an absentminded wave towards his teammates. "Why don't you go back to your friends and play with them?" he asked, on a hunch pointing to the Forbidden Forest.
The wolf looked where Harry was pointing, and dropped its head towards the ground before turning back to him with a sad look.
"What, no friends?" And he could have sworn it shook its head. "Well, maybe when we're done here…"
But he was interrupted by a loud scream.
"MISTER POTTER, WHAT IN HEAVEN'S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Madam Hooch hollered, and spooked, the wolf leapt to its feet and sped off of the field towards the forest.
The Quidditch coach was furious with Harry, and shouted at him for a good ten minutes before hauling him into Professor McGonagall's office.
Now seated and thoroughly cowed, Harry watched as Madam Hooch explained what had happened to the Professor, whose mouth kept getting thinner and thinner, until Harry was certain that it was going to disappear entirely.
"Thank you, Rolanda," Professor McGonagall said once the flying instructor had finished. "I shall have a little talk with Potter right now about this." Madam Hooch nodded and left, muttering to herself that certain foolish students would one day take one risk too many and regret it.
Once the office door was closed, McGonagall turned and picked up a tin from her desk. She held it out towards Harry with a quiet "Have a biscuit, Potter." And Harry knew with that short sentence that he wasn't in trouble. Not really.
Harry took two cookies from the tin, and the Professor leaned against her desk with a small sigh.
"So, am I in trouble?" Harry asked after a few silent moments.
"No, Potter, it's not you I'm upset with," she replied. "I've told Miss MacCollum numerous times that she must keep away from the students when…"
"What?" Harry interrupted, his mind whirling with momentary confusion. "Do you mean to tell me that that wolf… was Gwen?"
Professor McGonagall shot him a silencing glare, which softened immediately. "Yes, it was," she replied heavily. She passed a hand over her face in an uncharacteristic gesture of weariness. "She was informed not to change into any creature while on school grounds, but she has proven to be quite stubborn at times."
"She came out from the forest," Harry helpfully pointed out, and the Professor snorted.
"She's also supposed to stay out of the forest," was the grim response. "That girl's going to get herself in serious trouble if she doesn't stop this."
"What kind of trouble?" Harry asked.
The professor fixed Harry with an assessing gaze for a few tense moments. "I think you should speak with the Headmaster about this," she said quietly. "Come, Potter." She gestured for Harry to follow her, and he walked behind his head of House to the statued entrance of the Headmaster's office.
Harry and McGonagall found the Headmaster in the middle of tea with Professor Snape.
Dumbledore smiled as the two entered his office, and the Potions Master's lip curled as if he'd scented a particularly strong piece of dung as Harry was waved to a comfy armchair in front of the Headmaster's desk.
"And to what do we owe the honor of a visit from the almighty Mister Potter?" Professor Snape sneered a little.
Professor McGonagall shot him a quelling glare and turned back to Dumbledore. "It seems that a rather large black wolf took it upon herself to play catch with the Gryffindor Quidditch team's snitch this morning," she said reprovingly as she displayed the tiny broken ball, but Harry detected the barest echo of amusement in the teacher's voice.
Snape's eyes widened. "She did what?!" He leaned forward in his chair a little as he automatically lowered his cup to the small coffee table in front of him.
But Professor Dumbledore merely chuckled. "I'm glad to see that's she's making herself at home here," he said mildly.
"Albus, she was seen coming from and running into the Forbidden Forest," McGonagall replied with a look of mild concern.
The Potions Master suddenly stood and moved towards the door. "I'll handle this, Headmaster…" he began, but hesitated with his hand on the doorknob when Dumbledore said, "No, Severus."
"What do you mean, 'no'?" Snape's voice had become quiet, as it did whenever he was clearly upset.
"What I mean is that I'd recently given young Gwendolyn permission to explore the outskirts of the forest," Dumbledore explained.
Harry frowned, and Snape went very still. "I assume you have a perfectly valid reason for her to take such a risk?" The greasy Potions Master's voice was carefully controlled.
"As a matter of fact, I do," the Headmaster replied with a hint of steel in his voice. "She cannot stay cooped up in this musty old castle all the time. I daresay you must have noticed her forays before this?"
"You mean other than at Christmas?" Snape almost snarled. "Yes, but I thought I'd settled that with her, and that she understood the need for caution."
"If there is one quality that Gwendolyn shares with Harry here," Dumbledore nodded to the nonplussed teen, "it would be the almost compulsive need to feel as if she were a free person. The last thing we would want now is to make the young lady feel like a prisoner here."
As mild as his tone was, the Headmaster was quite obviously delivering a rebuke to the Potions Master. As Snape flushed an odd shade of vermilion, Dumbledore spoke again. "I know you are only trying to protect her, Severus, but if you do not allow her some room to maneuver, she will grow to resent you. You of all people should know this."
Snape ducked his head behind his greasy mane of hair for a moment as he collected himself. "Yes, Headmaster, I do understand," came the harshly murmured reply. He suddenly raised glittering eyes to the others. "If you don't mind, sir, I have quite a lot of work to do today."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, and without further ado, Snape gathered his robes about him and swept from the room.
"Well, that went rather well," Dumbledore remarked to the room in general, and several of the paintings chuckled.
"Professor," Harry spoke up, and the elderly wizard nodded for him to continue. "How is it that Gwen can change into a wolf? Is she an Animagus?"
The two Professors exchanged weighted glances. "What we are about to tell you must stay between us, is that understood Mister Potter?" Professor McGonagall said sternly, and Harry nodded. With a pointed look at the Headmaster, the Transfigurations professor continued. "Miss MacCollum is in fact a metamorphmagus."
"Really?" Harry's eyebrows rose. "I thought they were extremely rare."
"They are," Dumbledore answered. "Which is why that, combined with the fact that Gwendolyn can also speak any language, makes her quite a special person. As rare as metamorphmagi are, only once every five centuries or so is that ability combined with the capacity for speaking any and all languages."
Harry frowned as he thought. "So," he said after a few silent minutes, "that could make her very dangerous."
"Yes, and lends a little light as to why Voldemort would want her on his side," Dumbledore replied gravely.
Harry's head shot up at that statement. "You think that Voldemort was trying to turn Gwen?"
"I can only speculate, Harry," was the response.
"Well, his methods leave a lot to be desired then," Harry said wryly, and Professor McGonagall couldn't repress a snort of laughter.
"Albus, are you sure Miss MacCollum should be wandering in the forest alone?" the Transfigurations professor asked after a moment.
Dumbledore smiled. "She is quite a resourceful woman, and an adult, Minerva," he replied. "And I meant what I said to Severus: the last thing that young Gwendolyn needs is to feel like a prisoner in a place where she should feel safe."
"And what shall we do about her little performance at the Quidditch pitch this morning?" McGonagall asked with a raised eyebrow.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I daresay that we have enough creatures in the forest that would wander out from time to time," he said. "But I shall make sure to impress upon her the importance of keeping her ability to shape-change quiet."
Harry was looking out the window as the adults talked, and he spoke up. "Professor, if you don't mind, practice is almost over…"
"Ah, yes, we wouldn't want you to miss out on any important practice time," Dumbledore replied with amusement, and Harry stood to leave.
"And Potter," Professor McGonagall called after him, and Harry paused by the office door. "In order to keep up appearances, I shall need to give you two night's detention and deduct five points for interacting with an… 'unknown' creature from the forest."
Harry grimaced, and the normally stern Transfigurations professor smiled a little. "Not to worry; you shall be spending it with me. I daresay you could use some extra coaching with your Apparating and Transfiguring."
"Oh, joy," Harry muttered to himself, and nodded to the professors before leaving the office.