Chapter Fifteen.

With Harry having officially joined the Aurors on November 1st, and being able to spend all of his evenings with the girl he loved, he felt better than he had in a long time. He was still exhausted, of course, but he had been trying to adjust Hermione to the idea of telling Professor McGonagall, and she had finally begun to accept that maybe they had no other choice. She'd even lit up a bit when Harry told her that she might be able to access McGonagall's private collection of books to find information on the vision. He'd reminded her of this prospect almost every day, and Harry felt he was closer than ever to convincing her.

It was now November 10th. At Hogwarts, Quidditch season had arrived. Today was set to be the first match of the season, and a legendary one at that: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Hermione, who since the start of the year had been trying to get back into Ginny's good graces and had only recently started to succeed, was determined to come cheer for her friend. Harry, though not explicitly invited, had decided to tag along.

When Harry appeared on Hogwarts grounds in the late morning, he could hear excited cheers and hooting from afar. He walked towards the Pitch and glanced over the green hills towards the castle, and despite his seemingly permanent state of exhaustion, the sight put a welcome smile on his face. Hogwarts brought joy to Harry. At Hogwarts, he didn't think of the war or of the horrible things that had happened, but he thought of his friends, his Quidditch games, the Christmases spent at the castle, and he felt happy. That, he thought, was the true sign of victory. The place he'd loved most remained untouched.

The cheering and chanting grew louder as Harry neared the Pitch. From one side a large group of people chanted: 'Sly-the-rin! Sly-the-rin!', and from the other side, equally as loud 'Gryff-in-dor! Gryff-in-dor!'

Harry, feeling a rush of excitement, hurried onto the stands. He immediately spotted Professor McGonagall sitting among the other professors. As he walked past, he exchanged a warm smile with her and softly squeezed Hagrid's big arm. The friendly giant hadn't noticed Harry until now, but he bellowed after him: 'Harry, lad! Good to see ye!'

Then he heard his name called out to him, and soon he spotted Neville, waving at him excitedly. Neville carried a pair of goggles and had painted his cheeks with red and yellow stripes. Luna, in equal dedication, wore her infamous lion's costume. Harry laughed at the sight of his friends and went to greet them.

'Harry!', Neville said, slapping him heartily on the shoulder. 'How are you?'

'Good, thanks', Harry smiled. 'And you?'

Neville nodded and smiled. 'Just fine, Harry. Hey, we heard you're officially an Auror now!'

'You heard correct', Harry said, and he couldn't help but feel proud.

'Have you caught any bad guys yet?', Luna asked, eyes wide.

Harry shook his head and smiled at her slightly disappointed face. 'It'll happen, Luna. You'll be the first to know.'

'Oi! Harry!'

Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Seamus and Dean making their way through the buzzing crowd. 'How've ye been, mate?!', Seamus laughed, and he embraced Harry warmly.

'Good, thanks!' And then, in a tone of surprise: 'You're not playing, Dean?'

Dean held up his leg, and Harry only just now noticed the cast.

'Fell of his broom, the muppet.' Seamus laughed, and Dean poked his friend in the ribs.

Choosing to ignore his friend's remark, Dean grinned wide as he turned to Harry. 'Should we call you Auror Potter, now?'

'Or would you rather go by your first title?' Seamus added. 'The Boy Who Lived. Twice.'

'Please don't', Harry said quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed. 'Still just Harry.'

'Just Harry, then', Dean grinned.

'Always humble', Seamus added.

His friends started to exchange jabs, and Harry turned away to look around instead. Everything around him, the cheering students, the red and yellow colours, the cold but bright weather, the waving of flags in the sky… it reminded him of times long ago, and he felt happy to be back. He missed Hogwarts sometimes, though not necessarily the studying. He was glad that so many of his friends had chosen to retake their final year. It gave him an excuse to come around.

Suddenly, he spotted Hermione coming through the crowd.

She'd wrapped her striped scarf tightly around her neck and had a pair of thick black mittens on. She looked cold, but she looked excited. Careless, even. Harry smiled at the sight. He took her in his arms and hugged her tightly.

'Done studying, are you?'

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. 'Never.'

'I'm glad you could make it', she added, and she softly squeezed Harry's hand.

'Well… I wouldn't miss Ginny kicking some Slytherin a-'

Right on cue, the wooden doors behind which the two teams waited opened. Swirls of red and green shot through the sky and over the students' heads at unbelievable speed, and a roar bellowed through the sky as hundreds of students burst into cheer. Harry, feeling completely intoxicated with exhilaration, cheered just as loudly, and Hermione jumped for joy when Ginny shot over their heads.

A young Hufflepuff boy announced the two teams, Madam Hooch stepped onto the field, the Quaffle shot skywards, and they were off. Blaise Zabini, Slytherin Chaser, grasped the Quaffle from before Katie Bell's nose, and Harry heard Hermione make a loud noise of disapproval. Ginny was on Blaise immediately, though, flying so close to him that he had no choice but to move away from the Gryffindor hoops. Gryffindor cheered for their star player, and Harry couldn't help but feel proud of Ginny.

Blaise, visibly frustrated by Ginny, threw the Quaffle towards another Slytherin chaser, but Demelza Robins flew right above him, took a nosedive, and caught it from before his outstretched hand. She shot back into the sky and towards the Slytherin hoops, and Gryffindor went wild with excitement.

Ginny was soaring next to her, at the ready, and when Demelza threw it into her airspace, she caught it effortlessly and took a dive to avoid Blaise's attempt at nudging her away. Hermione's fist pumped into the air as she cheered.

Jimmy, one of the Gryffindor Beaters, knocked the Bludger away from Katie as she flew around the Slytherin team captain and into Ginny's space. Ginny tossed the Quaffle over Blaise's head into Katie's arms. Blaise spun around angrily and made a move towards Katie, but she dove and tossed the ball back up to Ginny, who caught it as she soared above Blaise's head. Blaise closed in on her quick enough, but Ginny sent the Quaffle flying from his reach and straight through the left Slytherin hoop.

'GINNY WEASLEY SCORES!', the commentator bellowed, straining to be heard above the roaring of the Gryffindor crowd. 'Ten points to Gryffindor!'

Her friends cheered loudly as she soared over their heads and back to her side of the pitch.

'She's amazing, isn't she?', Hermione said, never taking her eyes off Ginny.

Ginny scored twenty more points in the next ten minutes, and Katie scored another ten. They were doing splendidly against Slytherin's twenty-point score, until Felix Odell, a muscular, copper-haired Slytherin beater, knocked the Bludger right into Demelza just as she was steadying herself after having dodged the other, and sent her crashing into the pitch's wooden wall. The girl tumbled from her broom as the crowd gasped, and came down in the sand with a deafening thud.

The game was halted as her teammates went down to make sure she was alright.

Hermione grunted unhappily. 'They always play foul, don't they?'

Harry looked at the Slytherin players, who waited impatiently up in the air. Felix said something to his teammate, and the two boys laughed.

'That's because they are foul', Seamus answered angrily.

'That Bludger wouldn't have made it past his arm if I'd played, that's for sure', Dean growled, and Harry patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.

Demelza had strained her wrist and ankle, and the game was halted until she was carried off the field and towards the Hospital Wing. The Gryffindor team, with one Chaser in the stands and the other in the Hospital Wing, was now without substitutes, and the crowd murmured unhappily. The team captains had made their way to the Staff Stand and were arguing passionately with Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall.

'Bloody cheaters', Harry heard someone say.

'It's that snake-blood of theirs.'

'They don't actually have snake-blood, dummy.'

'Oh.'

Harry went to stand by the edge of the balustrade and looked down and around the Pitch. Despite the occasional injury and foul play, Harry found himself aching for the feeling of the Golden Snitch clasped tightly in his hand as Gryffindor House echoed his name back at him from all sides of the immense structure. And the wind in his face… his frosty fingertips, the sway of his body as he rode his broom… Harry smiled at the memories, and wondered suddenly if he could assist in Training the new players next year. He'd have to ask McGonagall.

Some twenty minutes later, movement up in the air revealed that the game was about to resume. Ginny sat high up on her broom, but Harry knew what she was thinking just from looking at her posture. She was furious, and thoroughly indignant. Harry glanced sideways at the unsuspecting Slytherin team and smirked. Now you're in for it.

Soon enough, Ginny was shooting through the air again, ferociously chasing after the Slytherin team, forcing them this way and that, so long as it wasn't near the hoops. When she managed to get her hands on the Quaffle and have the Slytherin chaser crash into one of the banners hanging from the balustrade, the crowd erupted once more, and Slytherin cursed.

'She's bloody brilliant', Harry laughed, and he clapped as loud as he could.

To his surprise, there was no cheering from Hermione this time. Harry turned to his left. She wasn't there. He frowned and turned to his right. Nothing. Behind him. Nothing. His eyes flashed over the buzzing crowd and searched between the Slytherin faces. Still nothing.

'Where's Hermione?', Harry asked.

Neville looked around. 'I dunno. Gone to get a drink, maybe?'

Harry opened his mouth to ask Luna, but Slytherin scored, and Harry's voice was drowned out by the commotion. He looked around, again and again, and still Hermione wasn't there. She was gone.

Harry tried to remember when he'd last seen her. Before Demelza was carried off, he remembered. Yes, she'd made a comment about foul play. That had been at least thirty minutes ago, though. Had he been so engulfed in his surroundings that he hadn't noticed her leave? Had she said something to him? Suddenly, a devastating thought occurred to Harry.

Was The Pitch still protected ground?

His mouth went dry, and without considering it any further, he pushed his way through the crowd and hurried down the stairs. When he set foot on the hills, his eyes searched for any sign of Hermione, but the way to the castle was completely clear, and there wasn't anything to be seen towards the Forest.

Panic took hold of him and he automatically started walking, not quite knowing where to.

'Hermione?'

Far above and behind him, he heard loud hooting from the Gryffindor stand. Other than that there was only wind, whistling tauntingly past his ears.

Harry spun around and faced the other way, starting off at a jog.

She has to be here, he thought. Nobody could have taken her from right beside me. I would have seen. Right?

'Hermione?!', he repeated, louder.

Nobody could have taken her without someone else noticing, he told himself. But then again, he hadn't noticed. Harry wanted to kick himself.

The panic slowly but surely turned to fear. He sprinted towards the castle, telling himself all the while that she would be there. His heart beat what felt to him a dozen beats per second, through his mind flashed images that he had tried hard to suppress, and his lungs contracted painfully. No, no, no.

The castle became bigger as Harry sprinted at it, more defined, and suddenly he saw it … a black cloak, swishing just around the corner.

Harry's heart stopped a moment. And then, with a burst of adrenaline, he shot off towards the castle. 'HERMIONE!'

Running, he took out his wand, the spell right on his tongue. Without considering what it might be, without even feeling a hint of fear, Harry pointed his wand and jumped the corner.

There was a loud scream.

'Harry!'

Harry, eyes flashing wildly from side to side, looked from the wide-eyed face of Parvati Patil into the wide-eyed, then confused, then disingenuous face of Hermione.

'What are you doing?!'

Harry, breathing hard, and feeling increasingly foolish as the seconds passed, quickly lowered his wand.

'I- Eh…'

'Never mind', Hermione said, and she pulled Harry aside. Parvati, looking at Harry as if she was genuinely concerned for his mental state, frowned and went back inside the castle.

'Harry, what are you doing?', Hermione hissed.

'What are you doing?!'

'Wha- Me?! I'm not the one flailing my wand around like a madman!'

'I wasn't flai-', Harry sputtered, and then 'That's not the point, Hermione! Why are you just wandering off?!'

'Parvati and I went to go see Demelza, of course! I told you!'

Harry frowned deep. 'You did?'

'Yes, of course.'

Harry breathed deeply. His heart slowed to a healthy beat. His lungs relaxed, and a deep sigh escaped from Harry's lips. But the relief he felt starting to come upon him was quickly replaced by the daunting realisation that he was starting to make mistakes. Hermione had slipped from his fingers the moment he'd lowered his guard. He couldn't have it happen. Not now. Not again.

'We have to tell McGonagall', Harry said abruptly.

Hermione began to protest, but Harry wouldn't hear it.

'No, none of that. Hermione, I can't protect you by myself. We need her help.'

Hermione looked deeply unhappy.

'Please', Harry pleaded, and he took her hand. 'Hermione, do you want me to get on my knees? Please.'

'Oh, fine!', she exclaimed, pulling her hand from his.

Relief washed over Harry at last.

'Thank you', he breathed.

After the match, he told himself. First thing.