Chapter 8: Pinball Wizard
Harry and Hermione entered though the portrait hole to a crowd of shocked faces.
"Where have you two been?" Percy stepped up to them. "There is a troll loose in the castle and you never came to the feast."
"We were worried about you and alerted Professor McGonagall that you were missing," Chelsea Thomason added.
"McGonagall found us," Harry said. "We were caught up having a chat before the troll found us. Don't worry, though, it's dead now."
"Dead?" Oliver Wood looked confused. "How?"
"Harry turned the tree branch it was carrying into a needle and I put it through the trolls eye by accident," Hermione answered.
"Well, that was still reckless," Percy said, sniffing haughtily. "You should have found a prefect instead."
"Was not really an option at the time," Harry said. "Next time I'll ask the troll to wait to kill us so we can come find you."
Percy huffed and moved away, replaced instantly by his youngest brother, Parvati, Lavender and Fay.
"Hermione," Ron could not bring her eyes. "I am sorry what I said about you outside class. You're not a nightmare. You were trying to help and I just… snapped. I'm sorry and I'll work harder in the future. When I heard the troll was loose and you two hadn't been seen, I feared the worst. If you were harmed, it would have been my fault."
"What you said was awful," Hermione began slowly. "I am sorry if I come on too strong but I am only trying to help. However, what you insinuated about Harry was a step too far. It will take me some time to get over this."
"I understand," Ron looked to Harry. "Harry really lit into me after you ran off. It made me really think about what I want to do, the wizard I want to become. I'm sorry Hermione. Harry, can we stay friends?"
"Ron," Harry tried to keep his voice even. He was still angry at what he did. "I would like to grow a friendship from this but it's going to take work and a lot of time. Hermione is my best friend, someone I'd like to emulate where it comes to schooling. So if you have a problem with bookworms, you've got a problem with me. Got it?"
Ron nodded and moved away as Parvati, Lavender and Fay moved up.
"Hermione," Parvati was the first to speak. "Harry didn't just yell at Ron today. He pointed out we haven't been making much of an effort to get to know you. He said there's more to you than books and cleverness and we'd like to find that out. Would you join us in the dorm tomorrow night?"
Lavender took over from there.
"We thought we might have a sort of sleepover," She said. "Get in our pajamas, swap stories, and have a girls night. Get to know one another better."
"I think I would like that," Hermione said.
"Tomorrow night then," Fay said. "8 o'clock sharp. Be there, Granger."
As a group, they walked away. Hermione was gravitating between shocked and pleased. Never before had another girl apologized to her and now she was getting her first sleepover! She had always wanted to have one growing up.
At breakfast that morning, Harry was once again the center of attention. Whispers followed him and Hermione throughout the halls, each student with their own epic theory as to how they took down the troll.
"I heard Potter pushed it through a wall."
"Please, it was obviously Granger who got a werewolf to eat it,"
"No way, it was Potter. He created a special curse for it."
Harry rolled his eyes at the epic hero they were making both of them both out to be.
"Wow, this Harry Potter is some sort of hero," Harry leaned in to whisper to Hermione as they made their way toward the dungeons. "I sure would like to meet him one day. I hear he rides dragons for fun, you know?"
"I don't know about Harry Potter but this Hermione Granger they're talking about sounds scary. I wouldn't want to cross her," Hermione laughed as they arrived at the door to the dungeon.
"Crabbe, Goyle," Harry gave them their customary greeting. "I hope you're doing well. How has your week gone?"
"How many times do I have to tell you not to talk to them, Potter?" Malfoy stepped forward before either of his bodyguards could deign to answer.
"Once more, as always, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said with a sarcastic bow. "They're their own people and I choose the treat them as such. It's a novel concept; you should try it. Miss Parkinson, how are you?"
"Stuff it, scarface," Pansy said, her bulldog-like features even more pronounced with the scowl on her face. "Don't come closer, I don't need mudblood on my hands."
As the tension was about to snap, the door opened and an equally irritated Professor Snape beckoned them in.
Potions class that day was especially rough. Snape had them brewing a forgetfulness potion. Whether the potion made people less forgetful or more was up to debate but what wasn't up to debate was that Snape was being especially cruel.
At the end of the class, Gryffindor had almost lost all the points Harry and Hermione had earned from taking down the troll, Neville had melted another cauldron and Snape had failed Harry for a less-than-perfect potion.
"You may have turned the heads of the other professors but I see though you, Potter," Snape came up to Harry. Harry noticed him walking with a pronounced limp. "So much like your father, you are. He strutted around the school like he owned it and nobody wanted to tell him different. Quidditch star, ladies man and an overall piss-poor student, that's all he was."
Harry glared at Snape and wondered what it was Harry's father had done to him. His dad's letter had outright said that he was a bit of a bully and Snape was obviously a target. However, that was irrelevant to this scenario. To pass that hatred onto the son for the sins of the father, possibly seeking comeuppance, was beyond reproach.
Storming from the class, Harry was several floors up before the others caught up to him.
"Sorry for Snape, mate," Neville came up and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry recoiled and pulled away.
"That was way out of line," Ron said. Harry glared at him, still not over what Weasley had said yesterday.
"You should go to McGonagall," Parvati said. "His behavior is unbecoming for a professor. I'm not learning anything in that class. Sure I memorize the steps but he doesn't even teach WHY those steps work."
"Maybe we should start our own self-study," Harry broke out of his rage and turned it to something useful. If Snape was not going to teach them, they'd teach themselves.
"That's not a bad idea, actually," Hermione said, looking thoughtful. "Potions is the core of a lot of careers. It could actually save our lives one day."
"Let's go talk to McGonagall about starting a Potions club," Harry said.
"You guys go ahead," Ron said. "I don't love Potions to begin with. I think I'm out on this one."
Shaking her head, Hermione watched Ron snag Seamus and Dean and head out toward the grounds. Is he never going to learn? She thought.
The remaining group traipsed to McGonagall's office. Hermione took the lead and knocked.
"Enter," came McGonagall's voice.
Harry opened the door and held it for everyone to enter. Stepping into the office, he was taken aback. The piles of parchment from the first week had only grown. McGonagall was now using two end tables to keep the piles somewhat organized.
Looking up, the Deputy Headmistress was surprised to see six Gryffindors standing in front of her.
"Good afternoon," Shock evident in her voice. "How may I help you all?"
"Well professor," Hermione began tentatively. "We have just come from Potions and…"
"What did Severus do this time?" McGonagall asked in a resigned tone. That number of owls she received from parents about the poor quality of Potions instruction made the small tables necessary.
"Nothing out of the usual," Parvati said. "He took about 60 points from us today and scared Neville so bad he melted a cauldron. You know, the usual stuff."
"We're actually here because we are…. displeased with our level of instruction," Fay spoke up. "My dad is an Auror and my mother a Healer and I'd like to follow their footsteps. A heavy knowledge of Potions is necessary."
"Parvati and I are interested in creating a line of magical cosmetics," Lavender said. "We need to know about all the ingredients we use to make them work properly."
"And Potions, along with Herbology, is a key part to healing. I was hoping I'd learn so that I could help… others," Neville added.
Hermione picked it up from there.
"Professor Snape doesn't teach us; he just puts the instructions up and tells us to start. We don't know why the reactions happen as they do. In muggle science classes, we would be informed of the elements and how they react with one another. To not do so would be dangerous."
"I've heard these arguments before," McGonagall looked to the cabinet behind them that housed the Scotch whisky she always needed after conversations like these. "What would you have me do about it? I've tried to advocate to Headmaster Dumbledore before about our dear Potions instructor."
"We are wondering if we could start a Potions club," Harry spoke for the first time, though McGonagall thought his voice sounded strained. "For all classes, all years, all who would like to attend. We could swap knowledge and, with supervision, brew some Potions under a healthier environment."
"While I admire this, you would need a professor to oversee," McGonagall scanned the faces and watched the hope leave their eyes. "I'm not sure Professor Snape would be much better in a club setting."
Harry then had an idea.
"What about Madam Pomfrey? As a healer, she should have a good knowledge of Potions and be able to help us through. We could also have some of the older years help the younger ones. They've been through this before and by teaching it to us, it would help them revise and know it better themselves."
"You raise a good argument, Mr. Potter. I will speak with Madam Pomfrey at dinner tonight and let you know," McGonagall noticed Harry's eyes drooping. He was trying to hide it but he was tired. "In the meantime, there's a couple of books (she waived her wand and seven sheets of paper flew into the hands of the students) that I would recommend you all peruse. They're not on the book list but they are helpful."
"Thank you, professor," all six voices responded.
"All his mother's brains, his father's natural leadership and his own fierce determination. Add in the sharp, organized mind of Miss Granger and I fear anyone who crosses that boy," McGonagall said after they left. "I have to get my bet in on them in the pool soon, while the odds are still in my favor."
Together as a group, they walked back toward their dorms.
"Great idea, Parvati," Harry said. "I didn't even think about a club."
"Well I'm glad you thought of Pomfrey," Parvati said. "Otherwise we would be out of luck. Hopefully we can actually start to learn how to brew potions."
As the group headed toward dinner, Hermione noticed Harry appeared to be laboring. Sweat was not pouring off him and he appeared to be extremely tired.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine," Harry said, unconvincingly. "I'm just hungry, ready for dinner."
Harry took another step and would have collapsed were it not for Hermione rushing to support his side.
"You're not fine," Hermione said. "You're nearly dead on your feet. Come on, we need to go to the Hospital."
"No!" Harry was vehement. "I'll be fine. I just need to eat."
"What you need," Hermione said. "Is to be examined by Madam Pomfrey. I can't believe we didn't go last night. Especially you."
"I told you I'm fine," Harry tried to deflect again.
I'm sorry, Harry. Hermione thought as she poked him hard in the hip. The quick intake of air by Harry was almost too tough to bear.
"Fine, huh?" Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist and started to march him toward the Wing. "We're going to Madam Pomfrey and you are going to get real treatment, mister!"
Harry had heard this tone enough to know he could broker no argument. It was the same one she used when it was time to do homework.
Ten minutes later, the duo limped into the Hospital Wing, a chime alerting the matron to her arrivals. Madam Pomfrey stepped out of her office and offered her standard greeting for visitors.
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," She said, robotically. "Mr. Potter? What appears to be the issue?"
"Well, I've got this growth, you see," he pointed to Hermione. "It seems have to come about rather suddenly and taken over my body, leading me here."
"Ah and what would this growth be wanting me to do?"
"I think SOMEONE," Hermione cocked her head toward her best friend, "is more severely hurt than he is letting on."
"It's just a flesh wound," Harry said.
"Flesh wound, eh?" Hermione poked his hip again.
"Ow!" Harry grimaced and leveled Hermione with a glare. "Stop that!"
"Alright, I've seen enough," Pomfrey decided to intervene. "Hop on up to the bed and I'll run some scans."
Pomfrey drew her wand as Harry finally resigned himself to his fate and sat down on the bed.
"Miss Granger," Pomfrey turned to the girl whose eyebrows were drawn in concern. "I must ask you to give us some privacy."
Hermione moved back as Pomfrey started to draw the curtain around his bed. Hermione turned and was about to leave until she heard a word.
"No." Harry said as quietly as he could. "If this is to be what I think it is, I need someone I trust to be here. So far, that list includes one name and one name only."
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "This is supposed to be private between you and your doctor."
"Please stay," Harry said, not looking her in the eye.
Unlike last night, Pomfrey's scans went deeper. Her eyes widened, she pulled out a quill and it started to transcribe everything her scans revealed. After the third sheet, Pomfrey's eye threatened to fall out of her head, they were so wide.
"Miss Granger," Pomfrey locked eyes with the brunette. "I need your help with this."
Together, they peeled back the layers of Harry's clothing until only his undershirt remained.
"Please don't think less of me, Hermione," Harry said as he took a deep breath. Slowly, he dragged the shirt up and over his head to the sound of two horrified gasps.
"When you said your cousin hunted you," Hermione was full on crying now. "I never pictured this."
"I'll be right back," Pomfrey rushed to the fireplace, threw in some powder. When the flames turned green, she stuck her head in. "Minerva? Can you come through? I have a patient and I need someone to act in loco parentis."
"I know you asked to keep this private, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey turned back to him. "But this is bigger than I imagined."
The fireplace flashed green again and Professor McGonagall stepped into the Hospital Wing.
"What did you need me for, Poppy?" She asked.
"I have a student who is showing signs of abuse. There's some medical decisions that must be made but I need your input in lieu of parental consent."
"Who is it?" McGonagall asked.
"Right this way. He seems adamant that his privacy be honored. It was hard enough just getting him to lie down."
McGonagall walked through the curtain and gasped.
"Mr. Potter! Who did this?"
Scars littered his chest, red splotches covered his shoulders and his bones could be clearly seen. McGonagall was sure there were more scars on his back as well.
"The marks on my shoulder are from Petunia," Harry began slowly. "She cut my hair down to my scalp and then the next morning it grew back. She threw a pot of hot water at me.
"These," He gestured to his arms and chest. "Are from my cousin and his gang. So many times they caught me and I couldn't move my arms the rest of the day. Though I never seemed to have an issue once I slept."
"And these," Harry turned, gently. "are from Vernon. Anytime I had a burst of accidental magic- my freakishness he called it- he would take his belt to me, as a lesson to not be so freaky."
"Why didn't your scans last night reveal this?" McGonagall almost rounded on Pomfrey.
"I was only looking at the fresh wounds and I… thought they were fine," Pomfrey's arm twitched. "I never thought to look any deeper. Now that I have, we need to get to work.
"My advice, is to have Mr. Potter stay the night. Call it precautionary observation, to protect his privacy. While we're doing that, I'd like to start repairing the bones. Contact Severus and tell him I'll need more Skele-Grow, do NOT tell him why."
"Every time before this," Harry had a desperate look in his eye, "I healed just fine overnight. Why not this time?"
"For one, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey turned to speak with him. "You were hurt more severely than ever before. Second, I suspect your magic was used to heal yourself and your reserves are low after the magic you performed last night."
"How long do I need to stay here?" Harry asked.
"After what is going to be a very rough weekend, you will be cleared so long as you take it easy the rest of the week. Lots of rest and I will want to start you on a nutrient regimen to get your weight up. Luckily we caught this now and we can catch you up with the rest of your peers. In a few years, there wouldn't have been anything that I could do."
"What about Quidditch? They're counting on me. If I can't play, we'll have to forfeit."
"If you do exactly as I say," Pomfrey locked eyes with him. "You will be fit enough to play. However, going forward, you will need to come to me with any discomfort and I will be scheduling regular checkups to ensure you are healing properly. You don't need to suffer in silence. We are here to help you."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry looked properly admonished. He turned to Hermione.
"I'm sorry you had to see me this way."
"You're sorry!? No. Who is going to be sorry is those awful, awful relatives of yours, once I get a hold of them."
"Take a number, Miss Granger," McGonagall's reply shocked them all. I warned you, Albus. "In the meantime, let's head to the Great Hall, it is almost time for dinner and we need to let Madam Pomfrey get to work on Mr. Potter."
"Harry," Hermione leaned in to hug him, gently. "This changes nothing between us. You're still my best friend. Though, could I use Hedwig? I'd like to send a letter to my parents."
"Go ahead. Hedwig loves the work."
Together, Hermione and McGonagall left the Wing and headed to the Hall
"Professor," Hermione turned before they were about to enter. "Would it be possible to invite Harry to my house for Christmas? I'd like to give him a taste of normal and some time with a real family, if it is possible."
"If you can get your parents to approve and Harry can get his relatives," Her nostrils flared at the word. "To acquiescence, then I see no problem with that. I think that actually sounds like a lovely idea."
Hermione sat through dinner, picking at her food, the sumptuous food held no interest. Her thoughts were in the Hospital Wing, with her best friend.
"Are you okay?" Lavender leaned in to her. "You look ill."
"I'm just worried about Harry," Hermione said, her eyes drifted up to the staff table where McGonagall appeared to be having a terse conversation with the headmaster. "He was apparently more wounded last night than he let on."
"Don't worry," Fred said from across the table. "There hasn't been a malady that Madam Pomfrey can't treat."
"Believe us, we've tried," George said.
In spite of herself, Hermione laughed.
"You're still coming to the sleepover, right?" Parvati said.
"I don't know…"
"Come on," Fay said. "You've had a rough few days, you could use the release."
That night, the four girls were on the floor of their dorm in their pajamas. Hermione was getting her first experience in a sleepover.
They're conversations were rather banal until Lavender finally asked the question burning inside her.
"So Hermione," Lavender asked. Lavender sat behind Fay, brushing Fay's strawberry blonde hair as she talked. "What's it like being the best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived?"
"Well, first of all, he's not the Boy-Who-Lived, he's Harry," Hermione said. "He hates that name and the notoriety that comes with it. Secondly, he's a sweet boy with a sarcastic sense of humor who is just about as fierce a defender as you can have. When he stood between that troll and me, I could feel the magic coming off him, like his magic itself was keeping me from harm."
Lavender sighed, picturing the heroic scene in her head.
"Oh I wish I could have seen it," Lavender said. "It seems like something out of a fairytale."
"I was so terrified," Hermione admitted. "I don't know how Harry had the courage to act."
"Fight or flight is one of the most basic instincts," Parvati interjected. "Nobody really knows what they'll do until they're in that situation."
"So Fay," Hermione turned toward her dormmate. "You said you want to either do something in law enforcement or healing? Are you pulled any one way or the other right now?"
"It's tough to say," Fay said. "We're not getting the best instruction in either Defense or Potions so developing a passion for either is tough."
"You should talk with Harry," Hermione laughed. "He's been complaining non-stop about how defense is all theory and no practice."
"That's the fourth time you've brought up Harry tonight," Lavender said, leaning forward to whisper. "You wouldn't be developing a CRUSH on him, would you?"
Hermione blushed and slowly nodded her head.
"I knew it! I can't blame you. Those green eyes with that messy hair? He's going to be a heartbreaker when he gets older," She sighed. "Add in that he's actually quite heroic. No, I'm not talking about the Troll, I'm talking before when he faced down all of us when we didn't stand up for you."
"You could feel the power radiating off him," Parvati said. "You've got quite the friend there, Hermione. Don't worry about the crush. It doesn't mean you have to start dating him. He's a boy; it'll take him ages to figure anything out. By then, you could be on to a new crush, possibly even dating someone else."
"So," Hermione turned to Parvati, looking for a change in subject. "You told McGonagall that you and Lavender want to make your own cosmetics?"
"We spent some time in Muggle London after our trip to Diagon Alley. The amount of options for cosmetics was certainly eye opening. There isn't anything like it in the Magical World and some of the cosmetics, we've found, do not work well with our magic. We'd like to work to make things so that witches of all ages can truly shine."
"How were neither of you sorted into Slytherin?" Hermione asked. "That's quite the ambitious plan."
"Slytherin has a reputation for politics and scheming that doesn't really suit either of us."
"Well I'm glad you are Gryffindors and thank you for doing this. I always wanted to do a sleepover but never really had the opportunity."
"That's all the past," Fay said. "Now, you've got the three of us. We should make this a regular occurrence."
"Agreed," Parvati added. "And we're sad we didn't try to get to know you earlier."
After Charms their next charms class, Harry and Hermione got held back to talk with Flitwick.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," Flitwick said. "I am impressed at what you did to the troll. Mr. Potter, you assessed the situation, developed a plan and actually made it work, for the most part. Miss Granger, you realized what Mr. Potter was doing and carried out his plan when he was incapacitated. It is rare that I say this, especially to first years but I am impressed. Mr. Potter, you are on the cusp of something I do not teach until after the OWL level and that is chaining spells. A wizard who can chain different spells together is much more difficult to defend against."
Hermione looked to Harry with glee, pride gleaming in her eyes.
"Miss Granger," Flitwick addressed her. "I have taught many students in my time here and few could match you in intellect. I see how quickly you master spells and then you're good at explaining it to others. With the skills and development of you two, I am hoping that you would agree to some extra lessons, administered by me. There would be lessons on dueling, battlefield strategy, and even a little in defense. I might even see if Professor McGonagall could help and add some Transfiguration to this as well."
Hermione squealed and started jumping up and down.
"Oh this would be amazing!" Harry laughed at the pure joy radiating off her. He even felt her magic arcing through the air.
"We would be glad to join and learn a little more," Harry said. "Hermione certainly can't get enough and I am excited by the prospect of learning all I can."
"You have a great mind for strategy, Mr. Potter," Flitwick said. "Add in Miss Granger's organized mind and you've got the makings for a wonderful team. I am excited for what you will accomplish together."
Eventually the school moved on from the troll attack and found something new to obsess over: Quidditch. The first match of the season was coming up on Saturday and Wood felt it necessary to use every possible minute to train. Harry was almost to late to class because Wood kept talking strategy.
"So it's supposed to be sunny," Wood was saying as Harry tried to move toward Potions. "You can use that to come out of the sun and keep the sun behind you to let it help you search for…"
"I'm sorry, Oliver," help finally arrived for Harry in the form of Hermione. "We have to get to class. If we're late, Snape could give Harry detention that could make him ineligible to play tomorrow."
Wood paled and moved on.
"Thank you Hermione," Harry said, as they made their way to Potions unmolested. "I get they're passionate but there's more to life, you know?"
Hermione laughed as they readied for their weekly torture session that was Potions. Snape was expected to be especially nasty, considering Madam Pomfrey had agreed to oversee the Potions Club and nearly three quarters of the school had signed up for it, mostly from Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
As they walked toward the dungeons, four Slytherins walked up to them.
"May we talk in private?" Tracey Davis asked them and they stepped into an empty classroom.
"We heard you were starting a Potions Club," Harry heard Goyle's gruff voice for the first time.
"Would it be possible for us to join?" Crabbe, who had a surprisingly sweet voice, added.
"My family owns a Potions business," Daphne Greengrass said. "I am expected to keep it going after school. I need as much Potions instruction as I can get."
"And wherever she goes, I follow," Tracey said.
"Of course you are welcome to join. I told McGonagall that I wanted it open to everyone," Harry said. "Crabbe, Goyle. I didn't expect this from you."
"Draco treats us like idiots," Goyle said. "But we'd actually like to make something of ourselves beyond hired muscle. Nobody treated us like humans before, nobody until you. I know you do it to undercut Draco's influence but it was still special to both of us."
"We'd actually like to grow as wizards and become more than what we are, Potter," Crabbe finished."
"I truly get that," Harry said. "And you can call me Harry."
"Greg."
"Vinny."
"Vinny?" Daphne looked at him in surprise. "You go by Vinny?"
"I do now," Vinny smiled.
"All right we need to head to class," Harry said. "I hate what would happen to me if we're late."
They split into two different groups, it was still too dangerous to walk together. Neither house would understand it and they didn't need to stir that level of enmity.
On the way, Hermione wrapped an arm around him.
"You've changed two lives, Harry Potter," Hermione said. "I hate to think what would have happened to either of them if they didn't have anyone treat them as people. They might end up trying to prove themselves and end up burning themselves alive."
"There's really no reason to treat them like that. It's how Dudley treats his gang buddies. They're just backup for him and reinforce the worldview that his parents instilled in him. I was hoping to prevent that and maybe we can get Draco to humble himself and come around too."
"Don't hold your breath on that one," Hermione said and Harry laughed.
Saturday dawned cold but clear: a perfect day for Quidditch. Harry popped out of bed and got ready. However, with every step he took down the stairs, the more nervous he got.
Hermione was waiting in the common room, as usual.
"Nervous?" She asked.
"A little," Harry shrugged his shoulders. "It's my first game and a lot is riding on me. I'm sure once I'm in the air, I'll feel better."
Down in the Great Hall, Harry joined his teammates for a breakfast he really didn't feel like eating.
"Here," Hermione said, pushing a plate closer to him. "You'll need your energy."
Slowly, Harry ate his prepared meal, willing his stomach to keep it down.
"Alright team, let's do it," Wood said and as one, the team rose to leave the hall. Harry looked at his best friend for reassurance and found her beaming at him.
"You've worked hard," Hermione said. "I know you'll be great."
She hugged him and Harry ran to catch up with his other teammates.
Harry walked into the locker room and saw it. Hanging in his locker was a crimson Quidditch jersey with gold accents. "Potter" it read with the number 7. Extending a hand, Harry caressed the material, letting the jersey float through his hands. Harry couldn't help it; he smiled.
Always picked last for sports in primary school, never truly wanted, Harry was now part of a team. He was needed, his teammates relying on him. Squaring his shoulders, Harry strapped on his armor, pulled the jersey over his head and put the sticking charm Hermione taught him on his glasses.
"How's practice going?" Hermione asked him in the common room one night.
"Just fine but my glasses aren't staying on my head and I'm trying to find a way to keep them there."
"Use a sticking charm. It'll keep them where you want and you won't have to think about them," Harry remembered Hermione's advice as Wood stood to address the team.
"This is it," Wood said.
"The big one…" Fred interjected.
"The one we've been waiting for," George continued and leaned toward Harry. "We've got his opening speech memorized."
"Shut it!" Wood snapped. "Here we are: our first game. We've worked hard and I know everyone knows that. Remember what we worked on, focus on your tasks and don't let the Slytherins work you over. Fred, George, keep their keeper busy with your Bludger work. Angelina, Katie, Alicia; don't let them swarm you, always remember to pass out of trouble and falling back is an option, if it helps you toward the hoops. You're faster than Slytherin so use that. Harry? Stay high and keep circling. Don't make it easy for their beaters to target you. You're our secret weapon. It's time they find out what it's like to fly against Harry Potter."
"They're going to introduce us individually," Wood shifted focus. "When you hear your name, fly out and do a lap before arriving at your starting positons."
One by one, the team was introduced by the twins' friend Lee Jordan until finally…
"Starting at Seeker for the Lions. Youngest in a century, defeater of trolls, bane to Dark Wizards everywhere, welcome First Year Haarrrrry Pot-ter!" Lee drew out his first name while accentuating the two syllables for his last name.
Harry flew out to the roar of the crowd. Once off the ground, any anxiety vanished immediately. Harry was suddenly inspired; he performed a corkscrew turn into a vertical climb before rolling and descending into the stadium. Finishing his lap with a quick loop, he fell into position.
Looking across from him, he saw a boy with honey blonde hair wearing a jade green jersey with silver highlights. Harry nodded at his rival seeker and offered him a small smile before looking down at Madam Hooch.
"Welcome all. Captains shake hands. I want a clean match today."
Wood and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Chaser and Captain, had a brief handshake, which was probably more like a pseudo arm wrestling match. Madam Hooch shot a spell toward the box at the center of the pitch. Harry watched the Bludgers move away first, eager to be free once again. A glint of gold was all that Harry got as the Snitch flew off and disappeared. The Quaffle then shot up, as if from a cannon, the Chasers scrambled to grab it first and the game was off.
Harry accelerated and moved toward the top of the stands, circling the pitch in search of the Snitch.
Gryffindor jumped out to a quick 50-nil lead thanks to the speed of their Chaser lines. Fred and George were outworking the Slytherin Beaters, leading to multiple 2-on-1s for the Chasers. Anything Slytherin got close to the Gryffindor hoops, Oliver turned aside.
Realizing their team was getting worked, Slytherin changed tactics. The Beaters started getting into the mix, with brutal results. Katie was nearly unseated by a double Bludger volley, losing the Quaffle in the process. Flint elbowed Alicia in the face "by accident." Alicia got a penalty shot but the Keeper finally made a timely save.
From there the Slytherins slowed the game down to a grind, coming back to only trail by two goals. It was then that Harry saw it: a glint of gold near the base of the Slytherin hoops. He saw his rival seeker scanning the other end of the field, giving Harry the advantage.
Putting on a burst of speed, Harry dropped into the stadium, heading right toward the fluttering golden ball.
Out of nowhere came Flint, slamming into Harry, nearly throwing him from his broom. Spinning like a top, Harry came to a stop in the center of the pitch. The crowd booed but Flint was effective; the Snitch had vanished. Even though Katie scored on the ensuing penalty shot, Flint was pleased with that trade-off.
Harry rose to return to his search when his broom jerked again. Worried the hit had done something to his broom; Harry tried to get closer to the ground. The broom would not respond, however. It rose to the top of the stadium and then started to spin him around. He felt like he was in a pinball machine and suddenly he wished he had placed the same sticking charm on his broom hand as he had put on his glasses.
The broom then was dropped 20 feet before spinning again. Harry screamed but suddenly felt difficulty doing that too. If he wasn't so squarely focused on staying on his broom, he would have noticed a bushy head of hair moving underneath the Teacher's Section of the stands.
As quick as it started, the attack- there was no other word for this, Harry thought- stopped. Harry sped to the ground and dismounted his broom and bent at the waist, Harry heaved and out into his hand came the Golden Snitch.
Guess that's why I had trouble breathing, Harry thought. Imagine the headlines: Boy-Who-Lived dies choking on Snitch.
He raised the ball in his hands to the sky as the stadium exploded into chairs. The rest of his team landed around him, slapping him on the back. Fred and George hoisted him onto their shoulders.
Harry watched as a sea of red stormed the field. His eyes spotted the bushy mane from the crowd. She was sprinting toward him at top speed. As Fred and George lowered him, Harry was hit was a small missile.
"You did it! Oh I was so nervous. I thought you were going to die."
"I'm fine, Hermione. Though we need to talk later."
The celebration moved to Gryffindor tower where the twins had managed to procure all manner of snacks and drinks.
While everyone seemed intent on being as raucous as possible, five first years were deep into discussion.
"That was no accident, Harry" Hermione said. "Your broom was being cursed."
"We saw it," Neville said. "Professor Snape had his eyes locked on your broom. He was muttering."
"Why would he do that?" Harry asked. "Could you see anyone else doing anything?"
"No but I didn't really look all that hard," Hermione blushed. "I sort of… sethimonfire."
She sped through the last part as quiet as possible.
"You did what now?"
"She set him on fire," Parvati giggled while Lavender leaned into her, laughing out loud. "Snape knocked over Quirrell trying to put his robes out."
"It was the only way," Hermione looked like a tomato.
"Thank you, Hermione," Harry hugged her. "You probably saved my life. Again."
"That's two you owe me," Hermione leaned into his hug.
"Something odd is happening here. First, there's three dogs guarding who-knows-what on the third floor. Snape has been limping since Halloween when, according to Neville, he was seen heading toward the forbidden corridor."
"Did you say forbidden corridor?" George overheard the last part. "Are you talking about the Cerebus that guards it?"
"Cerebus?" Harry turned to look at George. "I thought it was three dogs."
"Nope. Just one big three-headed dog, standing on a trap door."
"How do you know this?" Parvati asked.
"Dumbledore told us that corridor was off-limits," George laughed. "That's really just an invitation for us."
George walked away laughing, leaving five pensive children in his wake.
"What's going on here at Hogwarts?" Neville asked, thinking of asking Gran about all this. She was on the Board of Governors; she might know something.
While the five of them postulated the third floor corridor and what Snape's involvement with it was, Dumbledore was perusing the note from Madam Pomfrey. Listed on it was the extensive list of preexisting injuries she had found on Harry. It was so extensive, it crossed three pages and there was barely a note on the signs of latent dark magic present on his forehead.
Dumbledore arrived, disillusioned, in that bathroom with the other professors. He had quickly confundused Pomfrey into not looking deeper. He didn't need her looking too hard into his scar. He was sure Tom was not gone and that scar was proof; proof that must remain hidden, lest Voldemort's allies get wind of it. Dumbledore now had to hope that Voldemort could not return, not for a while.
"Harry is the future, Fawkes," Dumbledore talked to his firebird familiar. "I don't have much more time left, I can feel my magic starting to wane. I just need to keep Harry safe into adulthood and keep Tom from getting to full strength. Whatever the cost, Harry is the future and I've got to keep him safe until he is ready for the burden that must lay upon his shoulders."
Now confronted with the consequences of his decision to place Harry into that home, Dumbledore wept. There was no choice. He had to keep this secret in the same place he kept all information regarding Harry. Lily and James had learned the hard way, the cost of trusting the wrong person. Dumbledore knew he couldn't trust anyone with information regarding Harry. Dark families still operated, some searching for Harry even after all these years. Dumbledore couldn't let them find Harry.
Dumbledore scanned the note again, added it to his drawer with all other information regarding Harry and recast the Fidelius over it, wishing things could have been different for the young Potter.
Next: Harry gets his first real Christmas
(A/N: This isn't going to be an evil Dumbledore, nor a Greater Good Dumbledore. He's powerful but flawed wizard working under a gigantic confirmation bias, unaware he has tunnel vision regarding Harry/Voldemort/the Prophecy.