Screening part 5
The Ball itself was hardly shown. All four of them thought this was pretty poor, given the Muggles' apparent ability to show things that weren't really there. Besides, the food was wrong. "Lollipops," said Malfoy in disgust. "Orange-and-black lollipops. How American."
"Well," Harry argued, "apparently this......film....is geared towards the American Muggles. It makes sense that...."
"He's right, Harry. Not even Hogwarts would have anything so tasteless on the banquet tables." Hermione was anxiously scanning the Great Hall on the screen for, no doubt, a glimpse of Snape. Ron was doing the same, although Harry was blowed if he knew what his friend was looking for. The background music was starting to get oppressive. All of them jumped when the doors at the end of the hall banged open and disclosed the form of Quirrell, hurrying toward the dais. Malfoy snickered.
"Doesn't he look innocent," he said, flicking an M&M at the screen and managing to hit the tip of Quirrell's nose—which wasn't that hard, since the nose in question was about ten feet high. Harry snorted.
"Not half as innocent as the real one did. He really had me fooled, you know." Even as he said it he was aware of the opportunity he had just handed Malfoy, but the pale boy merely nodded.
"I know. Funny, normally when Vol..........when He got his claws into someone, you could tell just by being around them, but he was just boring old Quirrell."
Ron scowled at them. "This coming from the Death Eater Junior?"
"Shut up, Weasel," said Malfoy mildly. "Ah, look, you're about to be heroic again." He pointed at the two boys on the screen timidly approaching the girls' bathroom. Hermione, sitting next to him, went pink.
".........stupid troll....." she muttered. Harry flicked a glance at her.
"Wonder what it thought it was doing in a girls' bathroom," mused Malfoy. "Checking its lipstick, perhaps? Sneaking a quick cigarette?"
"Eating people," said Hermione crossly. "That's what they do. It must've smelled me and thought it would have a nibble." Malfoy made exaggerated sniffing noises, eliciting another high-speed M&M attack. Ron was watching with interest as the troll—another of these strange Muggle non-magical illusions—smashed the hell out of the bathroom.
"Cor," he said. "Was it really like that? I don't remember, I was so bloody petrified of it I didn't notice what it was doing to the place."
Harry nodded. "Yeah, only it took care to break all the mirrors too. Don't think trolls like mirrors."
"Can you blame them?" Malfoy drawled. "Really, the green and the warts is a bit much."
Harry grinned in spite of himself. "Hermione, watch, Snape's probably gonna show up soon."
Hermione threw him a Look of Death, but she did sit up and watch the screen more carefully. Sure enough, the screen-Snape came hurrying in after McGonagall and Quirrell, and both Malfoy and Harry glanced at Hermione as she took in the blood dripping from his lacerated leg. Her face tightened a little, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of a response.
Ron was watching as, on the screen, the trio's alliance was forged. "I don't remember it being like that," he argued. "Hermione, you took responsibility for the whole thing, and then you apologized for being such a know-it-all, and you told me I was the most handsome boy you'd ever met, and you said that I was much better at magic than you, and...."
"Shut up, Ron," said Harry and Hermione, just as Malfoy said, "Shut up, Weasel."
The scene changed to yet another depiction of the Great Hall, and the children were discussing Quidditch, opening match of. Harry shuddered. "I remember that," he said. "I was bloody terrified."
"You look it," said Malfoy dryly. "Oh, look who it is."
Snape had suddenly appeared behind them, monochromatic and threatening, and wished Harry luck in his match. "Even if it is against..............Slytherin," he added, giving them an unreadable look, and limped off at high speed. Hermione bit her knuckles as the camera pulled back to show him disappearing down the long row of tables, black robes billowing out behind him like wings.
"Creepy," said Ron, and no one disagreed with him. On the screen, owls suddenly poured into the Hall, eliciting oohs and aahs from the Muggle audience as they had before, and began raining packages down on the tables.
"You know," said Harry, "it's surprising no one gets knocked out by a well-aimed fruitcake, isn't it? They're just dropping stuff right and left and........here we go." The owls had deposited what was very clearly a broomstick wrapped in brown paper in the screen-Harry's hands. "I wonder what their vision of a Nimbus 2000 is."
"Given their general understanding of magical aviation, probably a slightly bigger knobbly stick with sticks tied to one end," said Malfoy sourly. "I don't get why your dad's so taken with their technology, Weasel." But they were unwrapping the broomstick, and even he shut up, because it was really rather an attractive broomstick: ergonomic handle, carefully shaped tail, Nimbus logo set in steel into the wood. "Damn."
"Damn," echoed Ron, going a trifle pale.
"What is it?" Harry wanted to know. Ron swallowed and pasted a smile on his face.
"Nothing, nothing. Funny coincidence, isn't it?"
Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Weasley............it was you, wasn't it? You leaked the Nimbus design to your dad and he must've let some Muggle catch a glimpse of it........Weasel, Weasel, Weasel, I'm disappointed in you."
Harry put a steadying hand on Ron's arm and hissed "Kill him later. We have to finish our mission from Dumbledore first."
Hermione finished the M&Ms and crumpled the bag into a tiny little ball. "I'm going to set fire to Snape," she muttered. "I'm going to watch that girl....that Hermione set fire to Snape."
"Mmm," said Malfoy equably, "and I'm going to laugh."
Harry gave up. "And I'm going to Petrify the lot of you. Honestly, it's way too much bother to be a peacemaker among you guys."
"Harry, I realized that years ago," said Hermione, still staring woodenly at the screen. "Shut up, would you, and let us watch the film?"
The screen showed the Gryffindor team in funny-looking Quidditch robes waiting to enter the pitch, and Ron gave a half-heard little sigh as Wood smiled down at Harry. Malfoy didn't bother to say anything, merely smiled a nasty little smile.
And then it was Quidditch. It was astonishingly Quidditch. Although the pitch was too oval, not long enough, and the stands were bizarrely shaped like packets of saltines stood on end, it was Quidditch. Hermione was a little green after the first five minutes.
"How do you stand it?" she demanded. "All that.......swooping around......and being so high off the ground, and people coming at you from all angles, and......."
All three boys turned to look at her. "You mean you don't like playing Quidditch?" they asked. She sighed and turned her attention back to the screen. Harry's broom had just begun to buck and jerk in an effort to throw him off, and she watched—knowing what to look for now—and saw Snape muttering to himself with his eyes locked on Harry, and behind him Quirrell with a look of blank malice on his face, muttering almost twice as fast.
"How could we have missed that?"
"Hell," said Ron, "we figured Snape for the bad guy because he did his best to look and act like one. It wasn't like he was nice, or anything."
"Still," said Hermione. "I suppose we were all pretty young and stupid at the time, too."
"Eleven wasn't my best year," Malfoy agreed magnanimously. "Hey, look, you're setting Snapey on fire." Hermione cringed. Blue-orange fire was licking merrily around Snape's ankles.
Because they knew what had really happened, they were able to watch as Quirrell lost his concentration in the confusion and Harry's broom suddenly came under his control again. After that the match was faster, more desperate; even Malfoy found himself on the edge of his seat as he watched the two Seekers neck and neck pursuing the Snitch—and then followed Harry on his dive. "Wronski Feint," said Ron matter-of-factly.
But it wasn't just the Wronski Feint. Harry.......what was he doing? thought Hermione... leaned forward and stood up on the broom, arms outspread, and......."Oh, that's just ridiculous," said Malfoy.
"Broomsurfing! Cool!" said Ron. Harry went red and tried to shrink. He was too late; already, the screen-Harry had almost swallowed the Snitch, and was on his hands and knees on the grass of the pitch, gagging. Malfoy was convulsed with laughter.
"Way to catch the thing," he giggled. "'Youngest Seeker In a Century Chokes to Death on Snitch During First Match,'" and Harry leaned over and hit him. He paid very little attention, and Harry had to admit it was pretty funny, given the situation.
"Well," he said, shaking his hand to stop the stinging, "as I've remarked, at least I don't look as if I've used a whole bottle of Sleekeazy Potion on my hair after dyeing it blond with the stuff Rita Skeeter uses."
Malfoy went pale. "You dare?" he said.
Harry thought. "Well, maybe half a bottle."
tbc
