"I'm not staring."
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Hello guys, welcome back for another chapter. I have an announcement to make. But you're gonna have to wait for it. My Slytherin readers will be very happy though. Enjoy!
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Harry's POV
November came in and the weather started to turn really cold. The mountains around the school became grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost.
On Saturday, me and (Y/N) would be playing in our first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, we'd move up into second place in the house championship.
Hardly anyone had seen us play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, me and (Y/N) should be kept secret. But the news had leaked out somehow, and I didn't know which was worse -- people telling me I'd be brilliant or people telling me they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress but (Y/N) didn't take any of the insults, she threw some back. Things like:
"You'd probably need the matress for yourself after I'm done with you!"
I was lucky that I had Hermione as a friend now. She'd helped me with all my homework. She had also lent me Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.
I learnt quite a lot in that book. There was everything from the history of seekers to tactics of chasers. (Y/N) would peer over my shoulder every once in a while, I'd let her too. She lost interest in the book very quick though.
Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since the troll incident and she was much nicer for it. The day before my first Quidditch match, all of us were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar.
We were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Snape was limping. We moved closer together to block the fire from view; we were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about our guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell us off anyway.
"What's that you've got there, Potter?"
It was Quidditch Through the Ages.
"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."
"He's just made that rule up," I muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"
"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.
The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Ron, Hermione, (Y/N) and I sat together next to a window. (Y/N) was checking mine and Ron's charms homework for us. She would never let them copy ("All my hard work to just be stolen.") Though, I already knew she just wanted us to suffer for her entertainment.
I wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take my mind off my nerves about tomorrow. Why should I be afraid of Snape? Getting up, I told Ron, Hermione and (Y/N) I was going to ask Snape if I could have it. (Y/N) just wanted an excuse to drop all the work and insisted she go with me.
"Better you than me," Hermione and Ron said together.
"I've got nothing better do, I'll tag along." (Y/N) said, casually.
So we made made our way down to the staffroom while talking normally.
"What do you find so interesting about that book?" she asked.
"If you read it, you'd know." I laughed.
"I have. There's nothing in there that's so fascinating."
"Yes, there is."
"No, there isn't."
"Is."
"Isn't."
"You've only ever read about a sentence or two." I said, while turning a left.
"I'll have you know, I've read a page." she said, following beside me.
"And?"
"And, it's horribly boring. Learning how to fly and dive, that's not stuff you can just pick out of a book. Seriously, it's like being with Hermione. Not that reading and being with Hermione is a bad thing, but you can only read so much books."
I laughed softly, "I'll keep a mental note to tell Hermione that."
"You wouldn't." she glared.
"Yes, I would."
"No, you wouldn't."
"Would."
"Wouldn't."
"Oh, look. The staff room's right there." I said, pointing to the wooden door.
(Y/N) knocked thrice. There was no answer. She knocked again. Nothing.
Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. I pushed the door ajar and peered inside - and a horrible scene met my eyes.
Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.
"Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"
I tried to shut the door quietly, but --
"POTTER!"
Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. I gulped, (Y/N) stood, petrified.
"I just wondered if I could have my book back."
"GET OUT! OUT!"
I grabbed (Y/N)'s hand and left, rather quickly, before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor. I sprinted back upstairs.
"Harry! Harry -- seriously! Slow down!" (Y/N) yelled from besides me.
I stopped abruptly just to catch my breath.
"We're far enough and quite a distance from the room. You can stop now."
"You saw that, didn't you?" I asked, inquistively.
She raised a brow, "Oh, of course I did, Harry! That's quite a big factor to miss!"
"I mean, the leg.."
"Yes, the leg.."
We stood quiet for a moment. The same thoughts running through our heads. Snape tried getting passed the three headed dog in the third floor corridor. But why?
The two of us ran up to Gryffindor tower, both of us wanting to tell Ron and Hermione exactly what we'd encountered.
"Did you get it?" Ron asked us as we joined them. "What's the matter?"
In a low whisper, I told them everything.
"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him -- he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"
Hermione's eyes were wide.
"No -- he wouldn't, she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."
"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"
Hermione turned to (Y/N), "Back me up, will you?"
"Well, I dunno. If I hadn't seen or heard the scene myself, then I'd be with you, Hermione. He literally said 'how are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once'. If that's not enough evidence, as well as his leg, that he went into the trap door, I don't know what is. But Dumbledore trusts him."
I went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. I needed to sleep, I had to, I had my first Quidditch match in a few hours - but the expression on Snape's face when I'd seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.
Third Person POV
The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.
"You've got to eat some breakfast."
"I don't want anything."
"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.
"I'm not hungry."
Harry felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking onto the field. Harry wondered where (Y/N) was, this was her first match too.
At that exact moment, (Y/N) walked into the Great Hall, accompanied by both Seamus and Dean. She looked a bit pale too.
"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."
"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.
(Y/N) took the vacant seat next to Harry, staring down at her bowl as she filled it with some porridge. She looked at Harry to see him staring at her too. She smiled weakly.
"Stop staring, I'm already nervous as it is."
"I wasn't staring." he said, scratching the back of his neck.
"I don't have time to argue with you." she said, playfully as she took a spoonful of porridge into her mouth, "you've got to eat too, you know."
"I don't want to." Harry replied, coolly.
"Well, you have to." (Y/N) said, taking another spoonfull.
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"Don't."
"Do."
(Y/N) groaned slamming her head on the table.
"Stop doing that with me." she murmured onto the table.
"Do what?" he asked, pretending to be oblivious.
"You know what." she replied, lifting her head off the table.
"I don't" he said, bluntly.
"You do." (Y/N) replied, just as blunt.
"Don't."
"Do - you're doing it again!"
She took another spoonfull of porridge and looked at him. She pushed aside her bowl of porridge and stabbed a fork on a piece of bacon holding it up between her and Harry.
"Take it, and eat." she told him, calmly.
"I'll throw up if I do." he said, still nervous about the match.
"If you eat, you'll feel better."
"No I won't -"
"No!" she said, firmly shaking her head, "no, we are not doing that." laughing, weakly. "you're going to eat this bacon or I'll-"
"Ok, ok." Harry said, hastily taking the fork off her hands, "save your threats for them." he added, tilting his head to the Slytherin table.
By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch.
Ron, Hermione, Neville, Seamus, and Dean sat top row. As a surprise for the two, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter (L/N) for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion and lioness underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.
Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry, (Y/N) and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes.
Wood cleared his throat for silence.
"Okay, men," he said.
"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.
"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."
"The big one," said Fred Weasley.
"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.
"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry, "we were on the team last year."
"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."
He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."
"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."
Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers. (Y/N) followed followed Chasers Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson out, twiddling her thumbs.
At the sight of (Y/N), Harry had calmed a little. He knew that she'd be comforting and so on, but it was nice to know that it was her first match too, the same feelings shared among the two.
"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter (L/N) for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver. (Y/N) seemed to be thinking along the same lines as she winked at the group that were cheering like mad.
"Mount your brooms, please."
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.
Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too--"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor."
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.
"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to new first year (Y/N) (L/N), well everyone knows her and -"
"Jordan!" McGonagall said, warningly.
"Just doing my job, Professor." he said, "anyways! The new Chaser, fair flyer as well, still has the Quaffle in her hands. Slytherin Chasers can't seem to get past her!"
There was loud boo from the Slytherin stands.
"Ooh, nice dive, that was! And she passes Slytherin Captain Flint, her (h/c) whipping behind her ears as her eyes glows (e/c)." The whole crowd in the stands gasp as they tried taking a good look at (Y/N) "I was only joking.. jeez."
"Jordan! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO DESCRIBE THE CHASER'S APPEARANCE?!" McGonagall yelled.
"No, Professor! Sorry, Professor!" Lee said, casually. "Quaffles back to Johnson and no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there -- he's going to sc -- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and (L/N) back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she's really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead -- come on, now, (Y/N) -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"
Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.
(Y/N) felt ecstatic. That was her first goal for Gryffindor!
"Nice one, (L/N)!" Lee Jordan yelled from the speakers.
(Y/N) saluted at him with a brow raised and focused back on the game as Lee laughed.
"Budge up there, move along."
"Hagrid!"
Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.
"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"
"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet, but (Y/N)'s doing great' Did you see that goal she made?!"
"I know, tha' was somethin' I didn' know she could do! An' for Harry, kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.
Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.
"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."
Angeline had now scored as Harry did a loop-the-loop. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.
"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.
"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?"
A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear. During his distraction, (Y/N) had grabbed the Quaffle once more and scored another goal for Gryffindor, as the cheers erupted again.
Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch -- all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.
Harry was faster than Higgs -- he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead -- he put on an extra spurt of speed --
WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below -- Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.
"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.
Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.
Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"
"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.
"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In football you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"
"But this isn't football, Dean," Ron reminded him.
"Yeah! Red card!" (Y/N) yelled at Dean, laughing.
Dean started laughing too and carried on cheering for her. Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.
"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."
Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.
"So -- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating--"
"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.
"I mean, after that open and revolting foul..."
"Jordan, I'm warning you--"
"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by (L/N), who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."
It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.
It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal-posts -- he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out -- and then he realised that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.
Lee was still commentating.
"Slytherin in possession -- Flint with the Quaffle -- passes Johnson -- passes Bell -- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose -- only joking, Professor -- Slytherins score -- A no..."
The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.
"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have..."
Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.
(Y/N) had only just noticed as well as having the Quaffle in her hands, so she quickly flew past the Slytherin Chasers and scored again but right after that, ignoring the cheers, she flew right next to Harry trying to help him onto his broom. One of his hands dropped and the other holding on for dear life.
"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.
"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic -- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."
At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.
"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, grey-faced.
"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape -- look."
Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.
"He's doing something -- jinxing the broom," said Hermione.
"What should we do?"
"Leave it to me."
Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing (those marks, obviously didn't count.)
"Grab my hand!" (Y/N) yelled at Harry, holding a hand out for him to grab. He raised a brow at her, as if she were crazy. "look just -- just do this one thing for me!"
Harry reached for her hand as his broom was shaking like mad. She pulled him back onto the broom as she lifted his leg so that he could sit on it properly. It was ok for a second before (Y/N)'s broom started to lurk as well. And then Harry's again.
"What - in - the.. bloody - hell - is -- going -- on!" she said, as her broom once again went crazy, "Ow.. ow, OW! Watch it! That's not - a pleasant place for - that!"
The crowd gasped, forgetting about the match as their brooms carried on trying to throw them off.
"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately.
Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.
It took thirty seconds for Snape to realise that he was on fire. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row -- Snape would never know what had happened.
It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom, so was (Y/N)
"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.
(Y/N) raced to intercept the Quaffle from from Flint who was passing to Adrian Pucey and flew past the two, scoring yet another goal for Gryffindor.
Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick -- he hit the field on all fours -- coughed -- and something gold fell into his hand.
"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.
"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference -- Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results -- Gryffindor had won by two hundred and ten points to fifty.
The match ended as everyone cambered off their brooms. Ron and Hermione accompanied by the rest of the Gryffindors in the stands making their way to Harry, cheering. (Y/N) appeared among them and lunged onto Harry who went bright red at the though of (Y/N) hugging him. He laughed into her hair, his ears now a bright shade of pink like Ron's did when he was embarassed.
"You did brilliant!" she said to him, letting go.
"So did you." he said back to her, unable to control his smiling.
"Yes, but you caught the snitch!"
"But you scored about 3-4 goals."
She raised a brow, "You were counting?"
"No." he said, casually.
"Yes, you were." she said, teasingly.
"No, I wasn't." Harry said, stubbornly.
"You were."
"I wasn't."
She playfully hit his arm.
"I told you not to do that." she said, laughing.
FLASH!
There was a bright light and they both turned around to see Hagrid, holding a camera.
"What? I had ter. Firs' match, firs' win!"
They all burst into laughter as the crowd now caught sight of (Y/N) and started hugging her for all the goals she did.
"Good one, (L/N)!" the Weasley twins said together.
"Not bad yourself, Weasley and Weasley." she laughed.
Long chapter for you! Hope you enjoyed reading this! Harry and (Y/N) make me so happy. But it's little rn.
Also, when should I reveal my announcement.. I don't exactly know.. Bye!
Word Count: 4311