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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the OC Anthony Black.

As November came, so did the new Quidditch season. The weather turned very cold. Each morning the ground was covered in frost. Harry would be playing his first game on Saturday: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Anthony, Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it.

The day before Harry's first Quidditch match, Anthony, Harry, Ron and Hermione were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and Anthony had conjured them up a bright blue fire which could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. He was limping. The four of them moved closer together to block the fire from view, but unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eyes. He limped over. He did not see the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was Quidditch through the Ages. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"You made that up!" Anthony said angrily.

"You are just like your father, Black. Always budding into things that don't concern you." Snape said.

"What do you know about my father?" Anthony asked, surprised and angry.

"I know more than you think." Snape says, before walking, more like limping, away.

Anthony glared after him. 'Who does he thinks he is to talk about my father? I wish I had kicked him in the leg before he walked away.'

"Wonder what's wrong with his leg?" Harry says.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," Ron said bitterly.

The Gryffindor common room was noisy that evening. The four of them sat together next to a window. Hermione was looking over Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them while Anthony was bent over The Dark Forces: A guide to Self-Protection for their Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. Hermione would never let the boys copy her. Hermione would say that they would never learn that way. Anthony did his work on his own, though Hermione did help out and he did the same in return.

Harry looked restless and seemed to be thinking about his missing book. He then stood up and said, "I'm going to get Quidditch through the Ages back from Snape. Do any of you want to come with me?"

"Rather you than me, mate," said Ron and Hermione agreed with him.

"I'll go." Anthony said, standing.

They made their way down to the staff room and Harry knocked. There was no answer and he knocked again. There was no answer.

"Maybe we should just go in," offered Anthony. "He's probably not in there and he might have left the book in there as well. We can go in and get out really fast."

"All right," said Harry as he pushed the door open and they both peered inside. They were met with a horrible scene.

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," cursed Snape. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Anthony and Harry looked at each other and understood what they had to do. Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but –

"POTTER! BLACK!"

Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Anthony paled as Harry gulped.

"I just wondered if I could have my book back," Harry said quietly.

"GET OUT! OUT!"

They left and ran back towards the common room before Snape could take any points away from Gryffindor.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Anthony and Harry re-joined them. "What's the matter?"

In low whispers, Anthony and Harry told them what they'd seen.

"You know what this means?" Harry 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 create a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes went 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."

"Hermione, I know the type of people like Snape," said Anthony. "He's evil. I wouldn't put it past him to do something like this."

"Just because he's cruel does not mean that he's evil," said Hermione uncertainly. "He's not that bad. Dumbledore obviously trusts him."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry and Anthony. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

The next morning was bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of delicious fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

"Gryffindor versus Slytherin," said Anthony wistfully as he looked around the Hall. "This school's best rivalry. It's going to be a good match."

Ron agreed with him, while Hermione tried to get Harry to eat something.

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast."

"I'm not hungry."

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus. "Seekers are always the ones who get nobbled by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes. Anthony, Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams made their way onto the pitch and the crowd went wild. Hermione waved her little Gryffindor flags and the boys cheered, waving the banner. Madam Hooch was referring. She stood in the middle of the pitch for the two teams, her broom in her hand. The two captains, Oliver Woods and Marcus Flint, shook hands and mounted their brooms.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle, fifteen brooms rose up into the air, and 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."

Anthony laughed at Lee Jordan's commentary. He was closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – he's going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that's Chaser Katei Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH –"

Anthony cringed as Katie got hit on the back of her head by a Bludger. Hermione looked outrage and horrified.

"That's terrible!" she cried.

"That's Quidditch," replied Ron somberly as Slytherin took possession of the Quaffle.

"– Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that's Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent –is way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes –she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead –"

"Come on, Angelina!" shouted Anthony as the Gryffindors began roaring.

"– Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

Their cheers filled the air as they all jumped up and down wildly.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

They all made room, squeezing together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars round 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. "

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

Harry was gliding over the game, doing a couple loop-the-loops whenever someone on Gryffindor scored.

"Slytherin in possession – Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?"

Anthony and Ron leaned forward toward the pitch. Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear. The crowd began to murmur excitedly as Harry and the Slytherin Seeker began to dive towards it. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. Harry and Higgs were neck in neck, hands stretched out –

WHAM! Every Gryffindor roared in fury as Flint blocked Harry on purpose and Harry's broom span off course. He could have died! Harry was holding on for dear life there.

"FOUL!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Anthony was cursing on the top of his lungs, telling Flint where he should be going as Hermione, though not agreeing with his language, understood their anger.

"Send him off!" yelled Dean. "Red card! Red card!"

"This isn't football, Dean," Ron reminded him. "You can't send people off in Quidditch – and what's a red card?"

But Hagrid was on Dean's side and Lee was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating – "

"Jordan!"

"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 Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Everything with Harry seemed to be fine after that, but then his broom gave a lurch. It was moving through the air strangely in zig-zag, making violent movements.

" – Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking, Professor – Slytherin score – oh no…"

The Slytherins were cheering and no one else seemed to have noticed what was going on with Harry's broom.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled, staring through his binoculars. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom… be 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 Anthony's eyes widened – 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.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" whispered Seamus.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't mothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

With that, Hermione grabbed Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she looked through the crowd frantically.

"What are you going?" asked Ron, grey in the face.

"I knew it," gasped Hermione. "Snape – look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars and passed it to Anthony. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. His eyes were fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath.

"He's doing something – jinxing his broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?" asked Ron.

"Leave it to me."

Before either Ron or Anthony could say anything, Hermione had disappeared. Anthony turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating. It seemed almost impossible for him to be hanging on any further. The whole crowd was on their feet, watching, terrified, as Fred and George flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to one of their brooms.

It was no good. Every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher. The dropped lower and circled beneath him. Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times, but no one noticed.

"Come on, Hermione," Anthony muttered.

Suddenly, Harry was able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" shouted Ron.

Harry was speeding towards the ground when everyone saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick. He hit the patch on all fours and coughed. Ron gagged and Anthony winced, but instead of puking his guts out, something gold fell into his hand.

"He got the Snitch?" asked Seamus.

"HARRY CAUGHT THE SNITCH WITH HIS MOUTH! GRYFFINDOR WIN! ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY POINTS TO SIXTY!"

The game ended in confusion, but the Gryffindors celebrate nevertheless. Marcus Flint was making a fuss about it, but they didn't hear anything as they were in Hagrid's hut, waiting patiently for a strong cup of tea.

"It was Snape," Ron explained. "Anthony, Hermione, and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

The four of them looked at each other, wondering what to tell him.

"I found out something about him," said Harry. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot. "How do you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?"

"You named a vicious looking creature Fluffy?" asked Anthony in disbelief.

"Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"And under Dumbledore's nose," exclaimed Anthony.

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione. Her mind on Snape certainly changed. "I know a jinx with I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh – yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guarding, that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel –"

"Aha!" said Harry. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

And that's it for this chapter.