Harry Potter and the Joke that Killed: Chapter Seven
A/N: *dancing around madly to Bohemian Rhapsody.* By the by, what on God's green earth is a Bohemian? And for that matter, why is it rhapsody-ing? Ah well, there are far more important issues to attend to, such as the matter of the Joke that hath Killed. well, ATTEMPTED to kill.
All right, I've done my job by writing, now you do yours! NO, your job is not to try and figure out if I am sane or not (the scientists are tackling that one), your job is to read. R. E. A. D. The little black marks on the page, they make words, and a whole bunch of words is a sentence, and if you put enough sentences together in the right way you'll get. pigeon pie?? WAIT, no, you'll get a story! A-ha, I knew that one!
Lets just say that I own Harry Potter about as much as Carrot Top is a sex god. Yeah, that's right, NOT AT ALL! But I do own this plot about as much as Sean Biggerstaff is a sex god. and that's infinite ownership, baby.
* * * * *
The next week, Nancy Freeston was finally released from the Hospital Wing. At dinner that night, Dumbledore explained the whole incident to the school. "Two Friday's ago, a Gryffindor first-year was admitted to the hospital wing at around midnight. Nancy Freeston had been cursed with the Charrfoyl Curse, a horrible spell that travels in the victims mouth, down their windpipe, and to their heart, then killing them." Startled murmurs broke out in the Great Hall, and many pointing fingers at the timid blond girl's scarred neck.
"But thanks to the heroic efforts of Hermione Granger, the curse was stopped before it could do as much damage as it strived to. For courage and cool thinking under pressure, and saving the life of another, I award one hundred points to Gryffindor house." the headmaster continued. Hermione turned the color of Ron's hair and smiled broadly as a standing ovation erupted within the Gryffindor House table, and the Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's quickly followed suit. Even a handful of begrudging Slytherin's stood up and applauded Hermione, oddly enough Draco Malfoy included.
"What suddenly made him grow a conscience?" Ron remarked to Harry, motioning across the room at the Slytherin. Harry stared quizzically for a second, then shrugged. Probably some weird form of mocking Hermione, but then again. could Malfoy actually be glad Nancy didn't die? He would never truly be as cold-hearted as to ridicule the near-death of a child. would he?
This all made Harry's head spin; judging by past experiences Draco was the most prejudice and immoral person on earth besides The Dark Lord himself. But in spite of this, Professor Callahan's speech about unfair stereotyping had hit Harry square in the gut, and made him think twice on this suggestion. Of course, before Harry's brain could exert itself further, dinner was served. And there's nothing like food to drive any thoughts straight out a guy's head.
That Saturday, Gryffindor Quidditch Team practice started up with a vengeance. Angelina Johnson was named captain, with Fred and George as co- captains. Though the twins' only jobs were to figure out the strongest players on the opposite teams, and work just as hard as all the other team members.
The first practice that night relieved quite a large load from Harry's shoulders. He hadn't been in the air for ages, it was about time he revisited his old, faithful friend. His Firebolt, that is. Training was like learning to play all over again though, Angelina had devised a totally different strategy for winning than Oliver Wood, their old captain, had.
Oliver was more of a defensive specialist, naturally, since he played the Keeper position. Most plays were designed to protect the quaffle, and not score with it. Angelina decided to keep most of her successor's plays, but drew up some new ones more focused on scoring easily and frequently, being an offensive chaser herself. She even used Harry in a quite intricate one; he was supposed to perform a Wrongski Feint straight at their new keeper, sixth year Lewis Mabblehauser, to draw away some attention while the chasers scored at the opposite end of the field. Of course, this particular play was quite risky because of the chance that the golden snitch might actually be hiding behind Mabblehauser.
"Of course, that is such a small possibility it's not even worth considering. Harry, if you just catch the snitch, I don't care if it had been hiding up his bum." Angelina explained heatedly. She really got worked up when Quidditch was being discussed, she was always very serious and passionate about it. But her obsession was contagious too, infecting the whole team to where they actually wanted to practice for four hours a day, including after the stuffing dinner on Halloween night. She was like Professor Callahan in that respect.
Speaking of the new Defense teacher, her class was becoming a fast favorite. Most of it was bookwork, reading about dark curses and their counter-curses, copying down definitions, and every once and a while practicing a counter-curse on one another. Of course the counter-curse did nothing without the original curse having been cast, but Professor Callahan was able to tell if they had done it right or not. But the woman teaching it was so fervent and fiery about her subject that it invigorated her students, making it impossible to become bored or disinterested.
But sure enough, that craze died down when the students were back in their dormitories working on the homework she'd assigned. "Three rolls of parchment on the Briflattus Curse, she's mad!" Harry whined, throwing his quill across the room and hitting Nancy Freeston in the head. His eyes lingered over her for a second after she'd thrown it back at him, taking in all the progress she'd made in the past two months. Her neck had only a few scars remaining; blackish spiderweb-type outlines criss-crossing the otherwise perfect surface. She could almost pronounce her s-'s and th-'s now, having to relearn how to use her tongue since Madame Pomfrey conjured up a new one for her. Thankfully, the run of cursed Gryffindor's had been cut off, two months now had gone by and no one else had been injured besides Neville's fingers in Transfiguration biting him when he transfigured them into snakes. But that had been inevitable.
With all the exciting and challenging classes had come not-so-exciting and overly-challenging homework. Harry was swamped, with Quidditch practice four hours a day and trying to scrape in meals and classes, he was running on little or no sleep at all. The night before their first match, the one night Angelina let them off practice so they could get some rest, Harry was too anxious to sleep. 'What are the odds?' he mumbled, turning over in his bunk for the five-hundredth time. Deciding to use his book Quidditch Through the Ages to lull him into a slumber, Harry reached for his bag to get it out and suddenly realized he'd left it in the library while doing a particularly nasty essay for History of Magic.
'Oh, bugger.' he stated, contemplating whether to go and fetch it or not. He could see exactly where it was, lying on the corner of the center table, if only he could telekinetically transport it up to his dormitory. but it wasn't coming. He knew he'd never fall asleep with that book floating around in his mind, and rummaging around in his trunk, he finally pulled out the Invisibility Cloak. Creeping past a drooling Neville out the door, avoiding a sleeping Crookshanks' tail, and swinging open the portrait hole slowly as not to wake the Fat Lady, Harry was on his way.
Hogwarts was quite thrilling at night, the spooky staircases moving about silently on some unknown and unexplainable arrangement, and the suits of armor emitting quiet snoring noises. Harry even saw Peeves curled up in the arms of a cozy looking suit of armor, sleeping. As he walked past, the ghost groaned softly and snuggled deeper into his knight's arms.
Reaching the library, Harry saw his book lying facedown in the corner of the center table, right where he'd pictured it. What he hadn't pictured was Draco Malfoy crouched down amongst the shelves. Curiosity taking over, Harry invisibly approached his enemy to see what he was up to. A strong minty smell filled his nostrils as he crept undetected towards Malfoy, who was reading an ancient, stained book.
'Malfoy never reads.' Harry thought, peering over the Slytherin's shoulder to the text that must be so interesting. But just then he snapped the book shut, standing up abruptly and knocking Harry backwards. With a muffled THUD, Harry landed behind the retreating boy.
Draco stopped for a second, tilting his ear towards the source of the sound. Probably having some second thoughts, the blonde-haired boy marched over to the shelf and knelt down, retrieving the book he was looking at. Sticking it under his cloak and folding his arms over it, Malfoy began walking again, glancing craftily around him as he made his way out of the library.
Harry shook his head in disbelief; that was the first time he'd ever seen that guy anywhere near a book voluntarily. Of course, knowing Malfoy and his arrogant pride, he probably needed help on an assignment or something and was too ashamed to show his face around the library. Probably some absurd form of showing weakness, Harry figured. Glancing up at the section he was in, the sign said 'Item Spells.' That was another confusing piece of the puzzle, Malfoy hated learning anything that wasn't about dark magic or pain. Ah, but that did play into the whole ashamed theory.
Feeling smug and resolute, Harry clutched Quidditch Through the Ages and walked back up to the Gryffindor dormitory. But he found that as soon as he climbed into bed again, he was fast asleep, the book he worked so hard to obtain lying forgotten on the floor.
(^*^)
The next morning Harry awoke rested and ready to kick some Hufflepuff tail. The house team ate as a group at the head of the table, awake far before anyone else. Ron and Hermione managed to drag themselves downstairs by the time Harry was done eating, and mumbled a 'good luck' in between enormous yawns. Waving, Harry followed his team out to the Quidditch Pitch to warm up.
"Don't forget to go when I give the signal, don't stutter-step; and Katie watch for bludgers, they seem to like you best; Lewis dive hard to protect the goal, every point counts this game, you're crucial; Fred and George, er, just hit those bludgers, keep a firm grip on your bats, and Harry please, for God's sake, CATCH THAT RUDDY SNITCH!" Angelina bellowed, an attempt at a warm-up speech. She was twice as nervous as the whole team combined, this being her first game as captain and wanting to show that a girl was just as capable of making opponents cry.
"Thanks for your instructions, Angelina, without them I don't think it would've occurred to me to catch the snitch!" Harry said lightly, trying to relax her enough to smile.
She whipped her head around and glared hatefully at Harry. "Is that supposed to be funny, Potter? Oh, ha. Ha. Ha. We might just get clobbered and become the laughing stock of the school, but everyone look, Harry Potter's cracking jokes!"
Harry squeaked in fear and dove behind George Weasley, who ran away leaving Harry exposed. Even he was afraid of her today. Smiling sheepishly, Harry bent over and buried his face in polishing his broom.
After discussing still more game procedures, this time Harry keeping his trap shut, Lee Jordan's voice boomed outside the locker room announcing the 'Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff House Quidditch Match.' A pack of crimson and gold clad people walked out onto the field, met in the center by Hufflepuff's yellow and Madam Hooch's black and white referee robes. The heavy case containing the four balls, two desperately trying to escape, was opened and the whistle blown. The game had begun.
Harry had just seen a streak of gold fly by his head, taking off into the perfectly blue cloudless sky, before mounting his broom and flying off after it. Knowing that there was no way he could catch it now, Harry gave up and began circling the game.
"Quaffle taken straight away by Hufflepuff chaser Hannah Abbott, she's off like a rocket, headed right for the goa - ooh, ouch, whomped by a bludger, quaffle falls and is quickly snatched and Angelina Johnson, captain of the Gryffindor Team this year, streaks forward, Hufflepuff Justin Finch- Fletchley is barreling directly towards her, they're going to collide - amazing play by Angelina, taking a nose dive just before the collision, Finch-Fletchley looks furious - it's just her and the Hufflepuff keeper now, Tony Biscuit lunges at her, oh, bad move Tony old boy - wide open goal, come on. SHE SCORES! Gryffindor ten, Hufflepuff, a big fat goose egg!" Lee Jordan, the game commentator, announced. Cheers erupted from the stands, well heard even from the fifty feet in the air that the players were.
Harry scanned the horizon, searching for any hint to a gleam of gold, but not a thing was to be seen. That was unusual, normally flirting glimpses of the snitch were spotted, nothing solid enough to hold on to, but assurances that it was still there. But so far, Harry had nothing.
The new Hufflepuff seeker, last year's reserve Gregory Nott, was shadowing Harry closely. The poor guy was a replacement Cedric, trying to fill the shoes of his beloved classmate. Harry could see beads of sweat dripping from Gregory's nose and landing on his robes. 'Poor guy,' Harry thought. But then out of his peripheral vision he saw Angelina soar around in circles down below him. That was the signal.
Careening towards Lewis Mabblehauser at top speed, Gregory tagging along behind him, Harry prepared to hear the words 'Gryffindor twenty, Hufflepuff zero.' Conversation hummed in the stands below Harry, fingers pointing up at him. Finally Lee's voice announced the new score, right before Harry swerved around Lewis and through a goalpost, returning to his lookout point twenty feet above the rest of the game and listening to the admiring commentary.
"Fabulous play, Harry was just a decoy! Nice goal by Katie Bell - now Abbot's off with the quaffle quite angrily, zooming in and out." But Lee's speech was quickly drowned out by the rising fear in Harry's head.
He had tried to slow down, but then found to his shock and dismay that he couldn't. Harry was going about thirty kilometers an hour, speeding around above the game, trying frenziedly to brake the racing Firebolt. But nothing was working.
Far below their zooming friend, Hermione and Ron stared into the sky, puzzled. "Look at Harry, Ron, what's he up to?" Hermione asked.
"Dunno, probably a continuation of that play they just did. Wasn't that magnificent?" Ron replied, still amazed at the previous strategic play, and still clapping avidly.
"I heard you twice already, but just look at him, he's going awful fast." she said, putting her hands over Ron's and stopping his incessant applause.
"Oh, well, don't be such a worry wart, Hermione." Ron said, with a note of uncertainty in his tone. Harry didn't look like he was enjoying this reckless flying in the least, and seemed positively out of control.
This was not normal. Maybe he'd broken the accelerator when he sped up on that Wrongski Feint, Harry thought to himself, gripping his broom even tighter. Glancing around at his surroundings for some sort of assistance, he unexpectedly glimpsed the snitch - inside one of the Hogwarts windows.
That was not supposed to happen, it was illegal and impossible for the golden snitch to leave the grounds of the field, it wasn't allowed to do so.
But after that string of thought about rules and regulations, something took over and there was only one thought in Harry's head: get the snitch.
He turned towards the mullioned window, instinct and determination invading his head, dashing past the game field and over the stands. Somehow it had slipped Harry's mind that he wasn't able to stop, and how much that was going to hurt him later. Pulling back on his broom as he neared, the thought suddenly returned to him. Squeezing his eyes shut and hoping he'd live, Harry swung his broom around, and his shoulder bashed through the window.
Aching all over but seeing the snitch dash out the door, Harry followed it. Hallways and staircases flew by, with the golden orb just centimeters from his outstretched fingertips. Giving off a sudden burst of speed, Harry grabbed the snitch at the same moment he crashed through a heavy wooden door with realistic fruit spilling down it's front.
Professor Callahan's office flashed by, and then it was gone, left behind as Harry plowed through a side door. The startled teacher looked up from her desk, and without hesitation whipped out her wand and shouted "Impedimentia!" as the fleeing form of her student went through the doorway.
Harry felt himself slowing, the broom fighting against the spell. He began jerking back and forth midair, the spell vying for power over the out of control Firebolt. At last, with an earsplitting CRACK, something broke and Harry toppled to the floor, the golden snitch still clutched tightly in his fist.
* * * * *
A/N: Ha. I've decided that I like cliffhangers, keeps y'all on yer toes and groveling for more. And groveling is fun when you're the one being groveled at. ;) And an extra-special thank-you to AOL IM user Alchemi1976 for IMing me and saying how much he or she liked my fic. Wow, I totally didn't know anything about them, and they talked to me anyway. How refreshing, bonnie for Alchemi1976!! (can others follow suit?)
Now, this is a poem I've written that comes from the depths of my soul.
Saranimal writes and writes all day Saranimal slowly withers away Saranimal has fairly paid her dues So where on earth are her well-deserved reviews??
Okay, so I'm no Robert Frost, but you've gotta give me an "E" for Effort. Or an "R" for review, perhaps?
See y'all next Saturday, and if you like the way this story is written you should definitely read my other one. It's called STILL Pretty in Pink, and it's a continuation of the awesome 80's movie Pretty in Pink. Ya know, with Molly Ringwald and Jon Cryer? Oh, it's a classic, my fav. The fanfic's super short, just five miniscule chapters, and it's only got four miniscule reviews! So yah, read it, it's purty cool. I appreciate it, taa taa for now!
Love from, Saranimal HaloGal5@aol.com
A/N: *dancing around madly to Bohemian Rhapsody.* By the by, what on God's green earth is a Bohemian? And for that matter, why is it rhapsody-ing? Ah well, there are far more important issues to attend to, such as the matter of the Joke that hath Killed. well, ATTEMPTED to kill.
All right, I've done my job by writing, now you do yours! NO, your job is not to try and figure out if I am sane or not (the scientists are tackling that one), your job is to read. R. E. A. D. The little black marks on the page, they make words, and a whole bunch of words is a sentence, and if you put enough sentences together in the right way you'll get. pigeon pie?? WAIT, no, you'll get a story! A-ha, I knew that one!
Lets just say that I own Harry Potter about as much as Carrot Top is a sex god. Yeah, that's right, NOT AT ALL! But I do own this plot about as much as Sean Biggerstaff is a sex god. and that's infinite ownership, baby.
* * * * *
The next week, Nancy Freeston was finally released from the Hospital Wing. At dinner that night, Dumbledore explained the whole incident to the school. "Two Friday's ago, a Gryffindor first-year was admitted to the hospital wing at around midnight. Nancy Freeston had been cursed with the Charrfoyl Curse, a horrible spell that travels in the victims mouth, down their windpipe, and to their heart, then killing them." Startled murmurs broke out in the Great Hall, and many pointing fingers at the timid blond girl's scarred neck.
"But thanks to the heroic efforts of Hermione Granger, the curse was stopped before it could do as much damage as it strived to. For courage and cool thinking under pressure, and saving the life of another, I award one hundred points to Gryffindor house." the headmaster continued. Hermione turned the color of Ron's hair and smiled broadly as a standing ovation erupted within the Gryffindor House table, and the Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's quickly followed suit. Even a handful of begrudging Slytherin's stood up and applauded Hermione, oddly enough Draco Malfoy included.
"What suddenly made him grow a conscience?" Ron remarked to Harry, motioning across the room at the Slytherin. Harry stared quizzically for a second, then shrugged. Probably some weird form of mocking Hermione, but then again. could Malfoy actually be glad Nancy didn't die? He would never truly be as cold-hearted as to ridicule the near-death of a child. would he?
This all made Harry's head spin; judging by past experiences Draco was the most prejudice and immoral person on earth besides The Dark Lord himself. But in spite of this, Professor Callahan's speech about unfair stereotyping had hit Harry square in the gut, and made him think twice on this suggestion. Of course, before Harry's brain could exert itself further, dinner was served. And there's nothing like food to drive any thoughts straight out a guy's head.
That Saturday, Gryffindor Quidditch Team practice started up with a vengeance. Angelina Johnson was named captain, with Fred and George as co- captains. Though the twins' only jobs were to figure out the strongest players on the opposite teams, and work just as hard as all the other team members.
The first practice that night relieved quite a large load from Harry's shoulders. He hadn't been in the air for ages, it was about time he revisited his old, faithful friend. His Firebolt, that is. Training was like learning to play all over again though, Angelina had devised a totally different strategy for winning than Oliver Wood, their old captain, had.
Oliver was more of a defensive specialist, naturally, since he played the Keeper position. Most plays were designed to protect the quaffle, and not score with it. Angelina decided to keep most of her successor's plays, but drew up some new ones more focused on scoring easily and frequently, being an offensive chaser herself. She even used Harry in a quite intricate one; he was supposed to perform a Wrongski Feint straight at their new keeper, sixth year Lewis Mabblehauser, to draw away some attention while the chasers scored at the opposite end of the field. Of course, this particular play was quite risky because of the chance that the golden snitch might actually be hiding behind Mabblehauser.
"Of course, that is such a small possibility it's not even worth considering. Harry, if you just catch the snitch, I don't care if it had been hiding up his bum." Angelina explained heatedly. She really got worked up when Quidditch was being discussed, she was always very serious and passionate about it. But her obsession was contagious too, infecting the whole team to where they actually wanted to practice for four hours a day, including after the stuffing dinner on Halloween night. She was like Professor Callahan in that respect.
Speaking of the new Defense teacher, her class was becoming a fast favorite. Most of it was bookwork, reading about dark curses and their counter-curses, copying down definitions, and every once and a while practicing a counter-curse on one another. Of course the counter-curse did nothing without the original curse having been cast, but Professor Callahan was able to tell if they had done it right or not. But the woman teaching it was so fervent and fiery about her subject that it invigorated her students, making it impossible to become bored or disinterested.
But sure enough, that craze died down when the students were back in their dormitories working on the homework she'd assigned. "Three rolls of parchment on the Briflattus Curse, she's mad!" Harry whined, throwing his quill across the room and hitting Nancy Freeston in the head. His eyes lingered over her for a second after she'd thrown it back at him, taking in all the progress she'd made in the past two months. Her neck had only a few scars remaining; blackish spiderweb-type outlines criss-crossing the otherwise perfect surface. She could almost pronounce her s-'s and th-'s now, having to relearn how to use her tongue since Madame Pomfrey conjured up a new one for her. Thankfully, the run of cursed Gryffindor's had been cut off, two months now had gone by and no one else had been injured besides Neville's fingers in Transfiguration biting him when he transfigured them into snakes. But that had been inevitable.
With all the exciting and challenging classes had come not-so-exciting and overly-challenging homework. Harry was swamped, with Quidditch practice four hours a day and trying to scrape in meals and classes, he was running on little or no sleep at all. The night before their first match, the one night Angelina let them off practice so they could get some rest, Harry was too anxious to sleep. 'What are the odds?' he mumbled, turning over in his bunk for the five-hundredth time. Deciding to use his book Quidditch Through the Ages to lull him into a slumber, Harry reached for his bag to get it out and suddenly realized he'd left it in the library while doing a particularly nasty essay for History of Magic.
'Oh, bugger.' he stated, contemplating whether to go and fetch it or not. He could see exactly where it was, lying on the corner of the center table, if only he could telekinetically transport it up to his dormitory. but it wasn't coming. He knew he'd never fall asleep with that book floating around in his mind, and rummaging around in his trunk, he finally pulled out the Invisibility Cloak. Creeping past a drooling Neville out the door, avoiding a sleeping Crookshanks' tail, and swinging open the portrait hole slowly as not to wake the Fat Lady, Harry was on his way.
Hogwarts was quite thrilling at night, the spooky staircases moving about silently on some unknown and unexplainable arrangement, and the suits of armor emitting quiet snoring noises. Harry even saw Peeves curled up in the arms of a cozy looking suit of armor, sleeping. As he walked past, the ghost groaned softly and snuggled deeper into his knight's arms.
Reaching the library, Harry saw his book lying facedown in the corner of the center table, right where he'd pictured it. What he hadn't pictured was Draco Malfoy crouched down amongst the shelves. Curiosity taking over, Harry invisibly approached his enemy to see what he was up to. A strong minty smell filled his nostrils as he crept undetected towards Malfoy, who was reading an ancient, stained book.
'Malfoy never reads.' Harry thought, peering over the Slytherin's shoulder to the text that must be so interesting. But just then he snapped the book shut, standing up abruptly and knocking Harry backwards. With a muffled THUD, Harry landed behind the retreating boy.
Draco stopped for a second, tilting his ear towards the source of the sound. Probably having some second thoughts, the blonde-haired boy marched over to the shelf and knelt down, retrieving the book he was looking at. Sticking it under his cloak and folding his arms over it, Malfoy began walking again, glancing craftily around him as he made his way out of the library.
Harry shook his head in disbelief; that was the first time he'd ever seen that guy anywhere near a book voluntarily. Of course, knowing Malfoy and his arrogant pride, he probably needed help on an assignment or something and was too ashamed to show his face around the library. Probably some absurd form of showing weakness, Harry figured. Glancing up at the section he was in, the sign said 'Item Spells.' That was another confusing piece of the puzzle, Malfoy hated learning anything that wasn't about dark magic or pain. Ah, but that did play into the whole ashamed theory.
Feeling smug and resolute, Harry clutched Quidditch Through the Ages and walked back up to the Gryffindor dormitory. But he found that as soon as he climbed into bed again, he was fast asleep, the book he worked so hard to obtain lying forgotten on the floor.
(^*^)
The next morning Harry awoke rested and ready to kick some Hufflepuff tail. The house team ate as a group at the head of the table, awake far before anyone else. Ron and Hermione managed to drag themselves downstairs by the time Harry was done eating, and mumbled a 'good luck' in between enormous yawns. Waving, Harry followed his team out to the Quidditch Pitch to warm up.
"Don't forget to go when I give the signal, don't stutter-step; and Katie watch for bludgers, they seem to like you best; Lewis dive hard to protect the goal, every point counts this game, you're crucial; Fred and George, er, just hit those bludgers, keep a firm grip on your bats, and Harry please, for God's sake, CATCH THAT RUDDY SNITCH!" Angelina bellowed, an attempt at a warm-up speech. She was twice as nervous as the whole team combined, this being her first game as captain and wanting to show that a girl was just as capable of making opponents cry.
"Thanks for your instructions, Angelina, without them I don't think it would've occurred to me to catch the snitch!" Harry said lightly, trying to relax her enough to smile.
She whipped her head around and glared hatefully at Harry. "Is that supposed to be funny, Potter? Oh, ha. Ha. Ha. We might just get clobbered and become the laughing stock of the school, but everyone look, Harry Potter's cracking jokes!"
Harry squeaked in fear and dove behind George Weasley, who ran away leaving Harry exposed. Even he was afraid of her today. Smiling sheepishly, Harry bent over and buried his face in polishing his broom.
After discussing still more game procedures, this time Harry keeping his trap shut, Lee Jordan's voice boomed outside the locker room announcing the 'Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff House Quidditch Match.' A pack of crimson and gold clad people walked out onto the field, met in the center by Hufflepuff's yellow and Madam Hooch's black and white referee robes. The heavy case containing the four balls, two desperately trying to escape, was opened and the whistle blown. The game had begun.
Harry had just seen a streak of gold fly by his head, taking off into the perfectly blue cloudless sky, before mounting his broom and flying off after it. Knowing that there was no way he could catch it now, Harry gave up and began circling the game.
"Quaffle taken straight away by Hufflepuff chaser Hannah Abbott, she's off like a rocket, headed right for the goa - ooh, ouch, whomped by a bludger, quaffle falls and is quickly snatched and Angelina Johnson, captain of the Gryffindor Team this year, streaks forward, Hufflepuff Justin Finch- Fletchley is barreling directly towards her, they're going to collide - amazing play by Angelina, taking a nose dive just before the collision, Finch-Fletchley looks furious - it's just her and the Hufflepuff keeper now, Tony Biscuit lunges at her, oh, bad move Tony old boy - wide open goal, come on. SHE SCORES! Gryffindor ten, Hufflepuff, a big fat goose egg!" Lee Jordan, the game commentator, announced. Cheers erupted from the stands, well heard even from the fifty feet in the air that the players were.
Harry scanned the horizon, searching for any hint to a gleam of gold, but not a thing was to be seen. That was unusual, normally flirting glimpses of the snitch were spotted, nothing solid enough to hold on to, but assurances that it was still there. But so far, Harry had nothing.
The new Hufflepuff seeker, last year's reserve Gregory Nott, was shadowing Harry closely. The poor guy was a replacement Cedric, trying to fill the shoes of his beloved classmate. Harry could see beads of sweat dripping from Gregory's nose and landing on his robes. 'Poor guy,' Harry thought. But then out of his peripheral vision he saw Angelina soar around in circles down below him. That was the signal.
Careening towards Lewis Mabblehauser at top speed, Gregory tagging along behind him, Harry prepared to hear the words 'Gryffindor twenty, Hufflepuff zero.' Conversation hummed in the stands below Harry, fingers pointing up at him. Finally Lee's voice announced the new score, right before Harry swerved around Lewis and through a goalpost, returning to his lookout point twenty feet above the rest of the game and listening to the admiring commentary.
"Fabulous play, Harry was just a decoy! Nice goal by Katie Bell - now Abbot's off with the quaffle quite angrily, zooming in and out." But Lee's speech was quickly drowned out by the rising fear in Harry's head.
He had tried to slow down, but then found to his shock and dismay that he couldn't. Harry was going about thirty kilometers an hour, speeding around above the game, trying frenziedly to brake the racing Firebolt. But nothing was working.
Far below their zooming friend, Hermione and Ron stared into the sky, puzzled. "Look at Harry, Ron, what's he up to?" Hermione asked.
"Dunno, probably a continuation of that play they just did. Wasn't that magnificent?" Ron replied, still amazed at the previous strategic play, and still clapping avidly.
"I heard you twice already, but just look at him, he's going awful fast." she said, putting her hands over Ron's and stopping his incessant applause.
"Oh, well, don't be such a worry wart, Hermione." Ron said, with a note of uncertainty in his tone. Harry didn't look like he was enjoying this reckless flying in the least, and seemed positively out of control.
This was not normal. Maybe he'd broken the accelerator when he sped up on that Wrongski Feint, Harry thought to himself, gripping his broom even tighter. Glancing around at his surroundings for some sort of assistance, he unexpectedly glimpsed the snitch - inside one of the Hogwarts windows.
That was not supposed to happen, it was illegal and impossible for the golden snitch to leave the grounds of the field, it wasn't allowed to do so.
But after that string of thought about rules and regulations, something took over and there was only one thought in Harry's head: get the snitch.
He turned towards the mullioned window, instinct and determination invading his head, dashing past the game field and over the stands. Somehow it had slipped Harry's mind that he wasn't able to stop, and how much that was going to hurt him later. Pulling back on his broom as he neared, the thought suddenly returned to him. Squeezing his eyes shut and hoping he'd live, Harry swung his broom around, and his shoulder bashed through the window.
Aching all over but seeing the snitch dash out the door, Harry followed it. Hallways and staircases flew by, with the golden orb just centimeters from his outstretched fingertips. Giving off a sudden burst of speed, Harry grabbed the snitch at the same moment he crashed through a heavy wooden door with realistic fruit spilling down it's front.
Professor Callahan's office flashed by, and then it was gone, left behind as Harry plowed through a side door. The startled teacher looked up from her desk, and without hesitation whipped out her wand and shouted "Impedimentia!" as the fleeing form of her student went through the doorway.
Harry felt himself slowing, the broom fighting against the spell. He began jerking back and forth midair, the spell vying for power over the out of control Firebolt. At last, with an earsplitting CRACK, something broke and Harry toppled to the floor, the golden snitch still clutched tightly in his fist.
* * * * *
A/N: Ha. I've decided that I like cliffhangers, keeps y'all on yer toes and groveling for more. And groveling is fun when you're the one being groveled at. ;) And an extra-special thank-you to AOL IM user Alchemi1976 for IMing me and saying how much he or she liked my fic. Wow, I totally didn't know anything about them, and they talked to me anyway. How refreshing, bonnie for Alchemi1976!! (can others follow suit?)
Now, this is a poem I've written that comes from the depths of my soul.
Saranimal writes and writes all day Saranimal slowly withers away Saranimal has fairly paid her dues So where on earth are her well-deserved reviews??
Okay, so I'm no Robert Frost, but you've gotta give me an "E" for Effort. Or an "R" for review, perhaps?
See y'all next Saturday, and if you like the way this story is written you should definitely read my other one. It's called STILL Pretty in Pink, and it's a continuation of the awesome 80's movie Pretty in Pink. Ya know, with Molly Ringwald and Jon Cryer? Oh, it's a classic, my fav. The fanfic's super short, just five miniscule chapters, and it's only got four miniscule reviews! So yah, read it, it's purty cool. I appreciate it, taa taa for now!
Love from, Saranimal HaloGal5@aol.com