November 7th 1992
It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Eleven o'clock approached quickly and the whole school made its way down to the Quidditch pitch for the first game of the season, Gryffindor vs Slytherin.
In the changing rooms the team changes into their scarlet uniforms, sitting down for Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.
"Slytherin have better brooms than us," he begins, "no point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers -"
"Too true," George mutterd. "I haven't been properly dry since August." Cassie laughs quietly from his right.
"- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."
Wood turns to Harry with a determined look on his face.
"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."
"So no pressure, Harry," Hope states smirking.
As they walked out onto the pitch, cheers sounded loudly, mostly from the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who were determined to see Slytherin beat. After Flint and Wood shake hands Madam Hooch starts the game.
"On my whistle," Hooch called out, "three… two… one…"
Both teams shoot into the air. Harry flew up the highest, looking for the snitch. Cassie and Hope chase the Quaffel while the twins try to keep the bludgers in line.
George was trying to shoot a bludger away from Harry but it kept coming back which was something Hope noticed when she glanced back. Astrid notices too as she watches from the stand.
Soon George signals to Wood to call a timeout. Hooch's whistle stops the game. Harry, Fred and George dive to the ground, still trying to avoid the bludger. Cassie and Hope shoot down too.
"What's going on?" Wood asks, as the Gryffindor team huddle together. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that bludger stopped Cassie scoring?"
"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other bludger murdering Harry, Oliver," George spits angirly. "Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone, it hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it."
"But the bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then…" Oliver states anxiously.
"Listen," Harry begins, "with you two flying round me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."
"Don't be thick," Fred states. "It'll take your head off."
"Oliver this is mad," Cassie speaks up. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Ask for an inquiry -"
"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" Harry states determined. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a mad bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"
"This is all your fault," George spits angrily to Wood. "'Get the snitch or die trying' - what a stupid thing to say to him!"
Hope stays quiet, she doesn't necessarily want Harry flying around with a rogue bludger after him but she understands his determination to finish the game, to win the game.
"Ready to resume play?" Hooch asks Wood once she makes her way over.
"All right," Wood speaks. "Fred, George, you heard Harry - leave him alone and let him deal with the bludger on his own."
The team make their way back up on their brooms, Cassie shares a worried look with Hope. This bludger could do some damage if Harry's not careful.
The game continues, the team flies about narrowly dodging bludgers and squinting through the rain.
Minutes pass, Hope and Cassie turn just in time to see a bludger heading straight for Harry. Suddenly he was falling quickly to the ground.
Hope, Cassie along with the rest of the team make their way down where they find Harry, his arm bent at an uncomfortable angle and a golden snitch in his hand.
"Why can't I go to the hospital wing?" Harry asks through clenched teeth as Hope makes her way through the crowd to see her brother.
"He should really, Professor," Wood states with a grin, even though his seeker had been injured, they won the game so he's happy. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say."
"Stand back," Lockhart declares as he rolls up his sleeves.
"No - don't -" Harry protests weakly, but it was too late. Hope winces as she watches the spell, "ouch," she mutters.
"We should really get him to the hospital wing," Hope states as she motions for Hermione and Ron to help Harry up. She shivers at the sight of his arm that no longer has any bones.
[][][][][]
Madam Pomfrey had not been pleased at all when Harry arrived in the hospital wing. She was raging. Though in the end she had been able to regrow the bones. Later in the night Harry had been visited by Dobby, the house elf that had started a lot of trouble during the summer.
Moments after Dobby leaves, Astrid opens the door for McGonagall and Dumbledore who were carrying a petrified boy. Colin Creevey
"Get Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore whispers to McGonagall. She hurries away to find her.
"What happened?" Pomfrey whispers as she looks over the statue of the boy which is lying on a bed.
"Another attack," Dumbledore states grimly. "Minerva found him on the stairs."
"There was a bunch of grapes next to him," Minerva states. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter."
"Petrified?" Madam Pomfrey whispers. Astrid gazes down at the boy knowing that it was starting. It is only the beginning.
"Yes," Minerva answers. "But I shudder to think…. If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate, who knows what might have…"
Dumbledore prises the camera out of the boy's rigid grip.
"You don't think he managed to get a picture, do you?" Astrid asks curiously. Albus doesn't answer, he prises open the back of the camera.
"Good gracious!" Pomfrey calls out quietly.
A jet of steam hisses out of the camera, "melted," Pomfrey states wonderingly, "all melted…"
"What does this mean, Albus?" Minerva asks urgently. Astrid and Albus share a look, they had been discussing this just last night.
"It means," Astrid begins, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."
Madam Pomfrey clasped a hand over her mouth in shock. Minerva stares at the two.
"But… surely… who?" she asks, shocked.
"The question is not who," Albus speaks, his eyes on Colin. "The question is, how…"