Hey y'all! How's everyone doing?

So for those of you who were wondering, timeline wise, I'm doing a combination of the films and the books in that all the general events are there but the specific details and sequences of occurrence are the parts I'm messing around with. Mainly cause I feel like any school, magic or otherwise, worth their salt wouldn't immediately toss their students into the deep end until after doing syllabus and intro classes. But also cause this is fanfiction and I just felt it'd make more sense if some stuff happened at different times.

In regards to Seth's shadow charmer abilities, please remember that he's mentally 21 while in his 11-year-old body so he has a lot of control over his abilities now. He doesn't "fade away" because of his abilities and the shadows just make it easier for people not to notice him so they wouldn't notice him "fading away" either. Plus if he doesn't want to be invisible in the shade then he won't be.

As for everything else, I'm trying to establish a solid foundation first before doing more personalized touches and in-depth castle exploration cause I need a solid base before adding all the details in. Otherwise the whole thing will collapse and I'll just make myself confused while I write this. Hope this helps/made sense and doesn't sound defensive cause I'm really not trying to be and I really hope it didn't come across like that.

Like always, I enjoy any comments, except for those that are just full of negativity and not constructive at all. Just give me something to work with instead of just "It's bad." I also appreciate any positive constructive criticism since I'm always looking to improve my writing and storytelling capabilities.

Thanks for reading this story! Virtual hugs and cuddles to y'all.

Disclaimer: I still do not own anything except any OC's that may come up, any world building that has not yet been officially stated by the books or movies, and any plot points/structures that have not been used in the books or movies.

Warning: No beta, we die like Stingbulbs.

Chapter 7: Talk Quidditch To Me

XXXXXX

Seth rolls out of bed, muttering curses under his breath as his feet meet the ice-cold wood floor of the dormitory. He looks out the window as he quickly pulls on socks, seeing the grey overcast sky and some frost fogging up the clear glass.

He goes about his daily routine as the rest of his roommates slowly leave the warm comfort of their blanket burritos. Thankfully as a Shadow Charmer, Seth developed a strong immunity to the cold. Unfortunately, that still didn't stop the cold from biting his toes whenever it damn well pleased.

A soft thud catches his attention. He turns to see Harry shuffling across the floor like some sort of snail with only his messy hair poking out from underneath his many blankets. Apparently he'd just rolled out of bed like that and decided it was too much effort to get up and walk to the bathroom like a normal person.

Now usually Seth would make some sort of joke because that's what friends do, poke fun at each other's weird habits. But considering it was November and thus, the start of the Quidditch season, he decided to cut the poor boy some slack.

The first match of the season was this Saturday, two days away - Gryffindor versus Slytherin - and a lot of expectations were riding on this game. If Gryffindor managed to win, then they'd automatically be shot up into the first place slot for the House Cup. If they lost, then it'd take winning both games against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff just to break even with the points difference.

Also, despite everyone's best efforts, the secret of Harry being the Gryffindor's new seeker somehow leaked out. Probably because another student overheard an overzealous Gryffindor and then it only took a few days for the rumor mill to work its magic before everyone in the castle knew.

Harry was constantly being bombarded on both sides by people either wishing him the best of luck or hoping he'd break a few limbs.

Seth worked overtime jinxing students who got particularly pushy in their sentiments and making sure exactly how piss poor they were acting by treating an 11-year-old kid like the next Babe Ruth.

Ron spent most of his time figuring out new ways to drag Harry out of uncomfortable situations and just being his emotional support rock.

Hermione was a welcome addition to their little trio, having relaxed her rule following stance ever since the Halloween incident. She would find informational books on Quidditch for Harry to read and hopefully ease his stress.

Basically, it was a lot of pressure on an 11-year-old boy.

On one side you have the group of people being so encouraging it was almost suffocating as they eagerly awaited the chance to raise their new champion up into the air and say, "I did that!" As if their words of encouragement were what made Harry a better athlete and not the hundreds of hours of hard work that he put in.

On the other you have the people salivating at the chance to tear the poor boy down. To find reasons to pick at all his fears and insecurities like a scab they refuse to let heal over. They all act as if it's a personal offense if their own house doesn't win and it's all the team's fault cause they didn't try hard enough even though there are literally hundreds of thousands of variables that affect a sports game and doesn't just boil down to "I support this team that I don't even play on and thus they will win because of my support."

All in all, Seth was really starting to get sick of it. He was never much of a sports guy anyways and now he really isn't a sports guy. Honestly, what the school really needs is a free-for-all prank tournament instead of a house v house broom flying competition where the rules don't make any logical sense.

But that will have to wait because Harry's now coming out of the bathroom looking like the walking dead. Mom friend duties wait for no one!

XXXXXX

Seth lounges on the couch in the common room, idly flipping through the pages of Jinxes for the Jinxed. So far the pimple jinx seemed like a good way to deter teens and prepubescent kids from doing anything unsavory.

Acne was the enemy of youth after all.

Hermione was checking Ron and Harry's charms homework, leaving red ink marks across each incorrect answer. Ron was snoring away where he'd curled up by the fire.

Suddenly the portrait door slams open, startling everyone out of their respective activities as they look up to see Harry barreling in, hunching over to try and catch his breath.

"Where's the fire?" Ron asks, blearily staring at.

"It's about a couple inches to the right of your face, bro," Seth remarks, prompting Ron to look to his right and immediately scramble away from getting his face burned off. Ron throws the pillow he'd been laying at Seth when he snickers at him.

"Is there something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asks, pointedly ignoring the other two boys.

Harry straightens up, takes in a deep breath and blurts out all in one go, "I saw Snape getting Filch to help him bandage a really nasty bite mark on his leg and heard him complain about the three headed dog!"

"The three headed what?" Hermione asks, bewildered.

Harry looks at her like she just asked him a stupid question. Then he slaps himself on the head in realization. "Oh, right! You weren't there when all that happened. So on the night of the duel with Malfoy-"

"Which was a trap by the way," Seth interjects.

Harry gives him a dirty look that he shrugs at. "Just saying."

"Anyways, long story short, we ended up in the forbidden room on the third floor corridor where there's a trap door leading to something being guarded by a three headed dog."

"You were in the forbidden corridor!" Hermione exclaims in alarm, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't tell the professors that you broke such an important rule."

"Because I know you're curious about what's hiding behind it as well," Harry retorts.

Hermione relents "Fair enough. But what does that have to do with Professor Snape?"

"It means that he was trying to get past the three headed dog during Halloween! I'll bet he let the troll loose as a diversion while he swept off to steal whatever the dog was guarding!" Harry exclaims.

Hermione's eyes widen. "What? There's no way he would. I know Snape's not very nice person but he wouldn't steal something under Dumbledore's protection."

"Honestly Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," Ron snaps, "I'm with Harry. Snape's a greasy snake so I wouldn't put anything past him. But what's he after?"

Seth sighs in exasperation. "I think the more important question would be why the hell an established potions professor would decide to steal from Dumbledore. He wouldn't risk his position like that because I'm pretty sure the Headmaster of the school and greatest wizard to ever live would know who stole it the minute Snape got his hands on whatever it is. He was probably injured from checking on the defenses or something." He shakes his head at them. "No, I think if anyone should be a suspect, it'd be Quirrell cause of that DADA curse."

"DADA curse?" Harry parrots back in confusion.

"Yup, I asked a bunch of fifth years about it when I overheard them talking about how they hoped next year's DADA professor would actually be able to not piss themselves from fright like Quirrell."

Ron frowns, brow furrowing as his brain works overtime to figure out Seth's reasoning. "No way, it can't be Quirrell. He's such a coward that he's more likely to be eaten by the dog because he'd have fainted from seeing all three heads."

Seth shrugs. "Or he could just be a great actor. All the best deceivers and thieves are. And no one would think twice about him leaving at the end of the year because all the DADA professors do anyways."

"Well I still say you're wrong because Snape is a greasy miserable git," Ron firmly rebukes.

"And I say that's a stupid reason to suspect someone of planning a heist," Seth retorts.

"Boys! Boys!" Hermione calls out, getting their attention, "We don't even know what the dog is guarding so we can't make any assumptions as to who would actually steal from it. Besides, we should be focusing on helping Harry prepare for his first Quidditch match tomorrow."

And just like that, the conversation dies as Harry immediately pales at the thought of the Quidditch match. He turns a little green as his stomach churns from the anxiety bubbling within him.

They spend the rest of the night trying to reassure the poor boy but that only seemed to make things worse. So they just gave up and called it an early night in the hopes that getting a good night's sleep would help him out.

XXXXXX

Much to everyone's disappointment, sleep did not help.

In fact, it probably made things worse.

The bags under Harry's were rather impressive and his pale complexion could rival any of the Hogwarts ghosts who flitted on by, doing absolutely nothing to help the situation.

"I hope you know how much we're betting on you to give Slytherin a good thrashing, young Harry," Nearly Headless Nick said, twirling his mustache with a serious expression.

"I may be a pacifist but even I grow tired of the Bloody Baron's peacocking sometimes!" The Fat Friar exclaims, "I hope you'll be able to show them that their place is to be on equal standing with everyone else!"

The Grey Lady could care less about Quidditch but the Bloody Baron made sure to drift on by and glare at the young boy, the blood on his clothes displayed like an ominous threat.

Harry turned green as more and more people stopped by to either give threats or encouragement. It reached a point where the Gryffindor team would surround Harry like a protective shield and older students would send stinging hexes to anyone coming their way, be they friend or foe.

"You should really eat something, Harry," Hermione urges, shifting a plate of plain toast over to him.

"Or at least drink some water or pumpkin juice if you don't think you can stomach anything," Seth insists, holding a goblet out towards him.

Harry gratefully takes the goblet and a slice of toast. He chugs the pumpkin juice down and spends the rest of breakfast nibbling on the same piece of toast.

Ron, Hermione, and Seth could only glance worriedly at each other and hope for the best as they watched Harry leave early with the rest of the Gryffindor team.

"So where do you think we should sit to get a good view of the pitch?" Ron asks, scarfing down the rest of the plate of toast.

"We should sit in one of the middle stands so we'll have a wider view of everything that's going on and near the front rows so Harry can spot us if he needs the extra encouragement," Hermione suggests, delicately sipping at her pumpkin juice.

"Sounds good, but we'll have to be extra careful if we're sitting at the front," Ron warns, "Bludgers can get out of control real easy and sometimes players fly into the stands."

"I'm not gonna be joining you guys," Seth suddenly announces.

Ron and Hermione look at him in shock.

"You're not going to support Harry at his first game? What kind of mate are you?" Ron asks, incredulous.

"Oh no, I will be watching the game but I'm not going to be sitting in the Gryffindor stands," Seth elaborates.

"Where will you be sitting then?" Hermione tentatively asks.

Seth hums. "I was thinking the Slytherin stands...with the first years."

Ron spits out his sip of pumpkin juice. "You must be joking! You're going to sit with the snakes! How could you?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Hermione asks, highly concerned, "I know you've softened the houses a bit with your study hall table hopping...but interhouse tensions seem to be rather high when it comes to Quidditch..."

"And you'll get jinxed within an inch of your life by the other houses if they see a lion supporting the snakes!" Ron exclaims.

"Which means it's the perfect time for me to do something like this," Seth rebukes, "Besides, everyone's going to be too busy watching what's going on in the field to care about a single Gryffindor in Slytherin territory. And I'm going to be sitting next to Draco so the Slytherin's can't complain either."

"That's even worse!" Ron roars indignantly, "How can you even stomach sitting next to that little death eater in training?"

Seth deadpans. "Uhh...newsflash, he's 11. What you call a death eater in training I call a spoiled little shit."

Hermione places a placating hand on Ron's shoulder, giving him a pointed look. Ron deflates and pouts, grumbling petulantly as he returns his attention to his food.

She sighs. "As long as you know what you're getting into, we won't try to stop you. But I really hope you know what you're doing."

Seth gives the two a winning smile and thumbs up. "Don't worry your little heads off guys. I know exactly what I'm doing."

XXXXXX

As Seth slowly makes his way through the Slytherin stands, ducking and dodging various jinxes and hexes thrown his way, all he could think about was that one bird meme he'd come across way back when.

The one that went "The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math."

Cause it was a calculated risk, he just didn't realize how much more calculation should've gone into it. He also didn't think all of the Slytherins who were not first years, would take this much personal offense to his red and gold presence in their stands.

Like come on!

This isn't the Quidditch World Cup or anything. None of the house teams are even recognized national teams so get over your petty little school rivalries, geez. The adult world could give less of a shit about which house won what competition cause that sure doesn't pay the bills.

Finally, after dodging his hundredth something spell, Seth manages to make it to where the Slytherin first years were congregated. He plops himself down between a surprised Draco and an unfazed Blaise.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" Draco hisses at him.

"Hello Draco, hello Blaise. Lovely weather we're having today," Seth greets cheerfully, completely ignoring the bristling Slytherin.

"Hello to you as well, Sorenson," Blaise casually greets. "Is there any reason why you're sitting here instead of with the other Gryffindors?"

Seth shrugs. "Just felt like it. Also, I have a feeling I'd get a better, more in depth lesson into Quidditch if I sit by you guys."

Blaise hums thoughtfully. "Well, we do take our Quidditch seriously."

"And everyone would known that too if our team wasn't led by that spineless git, Flint who lets talentless fools use their family influence to buy their way in," Draco grumbles.

"Are you planning to try out for the Slytherin team next year?" Seth asks, genuinely curious.

Draco scoffs. "Of course. Unlike half the team, I don't need to go crying to mummy and daddy just to get on. I'll be joining with my own talent and eventually I'll become the Captain and pick only the best of the best so then no one will be able to dismiss the talents of the Slytherin Quidditch team."

Seth whistles, impressed by the passion he was displaying.

Draco blushes in embarrassment and immediately turns his head away with a huff. "Why am I even telling you this? It's not like we're friends or anything."

"Wow. I never thought I'd meet an actual male tsundere in real life and yet here we are," Seth breathes out in joking awe.

Draco glares at him. "What in Merlin's name are you blathering about, Sorenson?"

Seth waves him off. "Oh, nothing, nothing. So...anyone wanna give me the rundown of Quidditch? A crash course for dummies? Everything I've heard so far makes zero sense."

"Most likely because you've been relying on Weasley for such information," Draco sneers. "I'm surprised your brain hasn't rotted from mere exposure to him."

"So then educate me, oh wise and clearly superior pureblooded wizard," Seth mockingly bows.

Before Draco can retort, a loud whistle sounds throughout the pitch and their attention turns to the start of the first Quidditch game of the season.

"And the quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too," Lee Jordan, a friend of the Weasley twins announces before getting the stink eye from Professor Mcgonagall.

Seth listens intently as Draco explains the various team members and their positions on the field. He watches as Alicia Spinnet, a Gryffindor Chaser, rushes off the non-flying ball until the Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint steals it from her with a sharp body bump. Flint goes flying off and tries to toss the ball in the Gryffindor hoops but gets blocked by the Keeper, Gryffindor Captain Oliver Wood, who tosses the ball to another Chaser, Katie Bell.

"It's a quaffle," Draco explains, "The only non-magical ball in the sport. Every goal scored by it is worth 10 points."

"A quaffle? Who the hell names a ball a quaffle?" Seth asks.

Draco shrugs, turning his attention back to the action just as Katie gets struck in the back of the head with a violent streaking ball. Slytherin retakes the quaffle as Katie struggles to stay adrift and the magical ball goes zooming back into the air with the express purpose of taking out anyone in its way.

"And what the hell is that?" Seth asks, a bit perturbed by the health and safety hazards zipping around violently through the air as four Beaters smack them back and forth like ping pong balls.

"That's a bludger, an iron ball enchanted to knock players off their brooms," Draco explains.

"And no one has a problem with having something that could clearly kill a player or even an audience member without hesitation?" Seth asks, a bit horrified. Cause what the hell? Even American football and fighting tournaments aren't this blatant about their violence. If a non-magical sports committee caught wind of this game, they'd shut that shit down and have it banned before you could even say "quaffle!"

"It's always been like this," Draco explains, "No one ever really thought anything of it and safety rules are only added when it's clear that a certain element needs to be restricted. Besides, the risk of death just adds to the thrill of the game!"

Seth shakes his head in disbelief. "You wizarding folk sure have insane definitions for thrill and safety."

Draco shushes him as a Slytherin Chaser, Adrien Pucey, speeds off for the goal posts but is stopped by a bludger sent by Fred Weasley. Angelina is back in possession of the quaffle and she speeds across the field like a bullet, tossing the ball that Slytherin Keeper Miles Bletchey misses by a mile.

The Gryffindors cheer loudly with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joining in their applause. The Slytherin's groan and gripe about how terrible of a keeper Bletchley is.

Seth frowns when he hears the clear favoritism of Lee Jordan as he announces Gryffindor scoring. Game announcers shouldn't be voicing such clear bias during games, that goes against the neutrality of their roles. They should be quick and concise, detailing what's happening on the field for those who can't see while injecting a sense of humor to keep their commentary interesting. He shakes his head. Nothing he can do about it now…but maybe in the future?

Seth lightly nudges a scowling Draco. "So is Bletchley one of those players who bought their way onto the team?"

Draco scoffs. "Of course he is. That dunderhead spends too much of his time trying to mess with opponents before matches instead of actually putting his energy into his training. He thinks that by jinxing enough players on the opposing team, he'll somehow manage to get them to forfeit which is absolutely stupid and unsportsmanlike."

Suddenly a hush falls over the crowd as Lee announces, "Wait! Was that the snitch?"

Everyone scans the field until their attention is drawn to Harry and the Slytherin Seeker Terrence Higgs going neck and neck for a small flashing gold ball. Suddenly, Marcus pulls up and slams into Harry, intentionally blocking him.

The Gryffindors boo and jeer at the blatant display of unsportsmanlike conduct. The other houses join in jeering at the Slytherins. Meanwhile, the Slytherins are pretty evenly split on their reaction to the foul. Half of them jeer right back while the other half groan and face palm at their team's inability to just shut down the competition without cheating.

Gryffindor takes a penalty shot, scores, and then the game resumes. However, everyone's attention was fixated on Harry whose broom was jerking around violently, bucking back and forth to try and knock the poor boy off.

Seth snatches Theodore's binoculars from his hands.

"Hey!"

Theodore protests but they fall on deaf ears as Seth uses the binoculars to see Harry clinging on for dear life as his broom goes completely out of control. He directs his attention towards the nearby stands where his gaze falls upon Professor Snape, mumbling under his breath with unbroken eye contact directed towards Harry's broom.

Seth frowns, and then shifts his gaze a bit to see Professor Quirrell with his head completely turned away. He's speaking with a shocked professor who's seated behind him and not even bothering to turn around to see what the commotion was all about.

Suddenly, the edge of Snape's cloak catches on fire and in his haste to quickly stamp it out, knocks Quirrell completely over the bench and into a messy heap. Then immediately afterwards, Harry's broom is back under his control and he's zooming off into the air like it hadn't just tried to kill him.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" Theodore exclaims.

"Potter's broom tried to kill him and now it's not," Draco responds, completely bewildered before growing angry. "Did someone in Slytherin house try to jinx it because I swear on Merlin's name, the only way we should be winning the game is by completely crushing the competition, not literally killing it."

"I don't know but I think Quirrell might've been jinxing it," Seth observes, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Draco and Theodore look at him like he's lost his rocker while Blaise hums thoughtfully. Suddenly a commotion on the field draws everyone's attention back to it. Everyone watches as Harry lands clumsily onto the ground, falling off his broom and landing on all fours. He coughs and dry heaves for a while before something gold falls into his hand.

"I've got the snitch!" Harry giddily announces as the entire Gryffindor team descends upon him.

They raise him high into the air as everyone in the stands cheers. Except for the Slytherins who sulk and pout as Flint repeatedly protests over Harry having actually swallowed the snitch, not catching it. Regardless, Gryffindor wins the match one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

"Whelp, that was fun. Let's do this again next time!" Seth cheerfully crows as he slaps Draco on the back. "Thanks again for the crash course, please don't hex me as I leave."

He quickly bounds away before anyone can react, leaving the Slytherins a bit dazed and confused at the whirlwind that was Seth Sorenson, confounding Gryffindor extraordinaire.

XXXXXX

The quartet of friends sit in Hagrid's hut, each nursing a warm cup of tea.

"It was Snape! Hermione and I saw him muttering under his breath, not even taking his eyes off of you for a second," Ron says.

Hagrid frowns. "That's absolute rubbish. Why would Snape be cursing Harry's broom?"

"It's probably because he knows that I know that he's trying to steal from the three headed dog so he's trying to take me out before I can snitch on him," Harry explains, eyes widening as it all starts to come together for him.

Hagrid jumps a bit in shock. "How do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" Ron exclaims, "Who would name a vicious three headed dog Fluffy?"

"Well I named him, he's mine and he's a fine fluffy fellow," Hagrid vehemently defends, "I got him off a Greek chappie. Lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"

"Guard the what?" Harry eagerly asks.

"Nevermind that, it's top secret so you can stop asking me about it," Hagrid waves dismissively.

"But Snape's trying to steal it!"

"Snape wouldn't try to steal anything. He's a professor!" Hagrid firmly denies, "And he wouldn't try to hurt you either, Harry."

"But he was muttering a jinx, Hagrid. I know a jinx when I see one, I've read all about them!" Hermione exclaims, now thoroughly on the Snape did it train. "Jinxes need direct eye contact and Snape didn't blink even once!"

"So do counter jinxes," Seth rebukes, "If we're looking for a culprit then it's obviously Quirrell! He didn't even turn around once to see what the commotion was all about."

"Well if he was turned around the entire time, then how could he have direct eye contact with Harry's broom?" Ron rebukes.

"There's this thing called a mirror. I don't know if you've seen it but we have one in our bathroom if you don't know what it looks like. It's a square above the sink, shows your reflection and everything," Seth retorts.

"Alright, that's enough of that! You're all wrong! No professor would steal something from this school," Hagrid interjects, "I don't know why Harry's broom acted like that but no professor would try to kill a student! Now listen here, all four of you, you're meddling in things that don't concern you. It's dangerous. Forget the dog, forget what it's guarding, that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel-"

"Aha!" Harry exclaims, pointing at Hagrid in triumph, "So a Nicolas Flamel is involved, is he?"

Hagrid looks upon them thunderously. "Out!" he exclaims, swiping their teas away and ushering them out of his hut.

The quartet suddenly stands outside of Hagrid's hut in the chilly air as the sun sets in the horizon. Hagrid's door slams shut.

Seth gives Harry a flat stare that the boy turns red in embarrassment from.

And we're finally picking up more on the plot! Also, if you guys sensed a bit of bitterness in the breakfast scene, that's just some of my feelings as a student athlete myself carrying over. Athletes already have it hard enough, feeling guilty and ashamed when they don't win. What? You think those tears after a defeat are just for show? There's nothing more frustrating than losing when you know you could've and should've done better. The fans and sports watchers don't need to dog pile onto them like it's all the athletes fault for not winning when they ALREADY KNOW IT'S THEIR FAULT, CHILL! GEEZ!

Ahem. Anyways, next up is the Christmas chapter, which I'll be able to interject more of my own personal touches in. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to the next one!