Chapter 19: Switzerland
"From the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Hogsmeade, England, please welcome…Johnson…Crabbe…Goyle…Abbot…Weasley…Malfoy and…POTTER!!!"
The roar of the crowd was deafening, but Harry could not hear it. He couldn't hear anything, and can only see a blur of colors and movements. He was ready, filtering out the crowd, the ground, the people, everyone…
"And, from La Esquela de Omungabunga en Bolivia, we have…Manuel…Sanchez…Mariano…Simones…Campo…Ferre and…GOMEZ!!!"
This time, the roar pierced through Harry's heightened Quidditch-playing senses. There were far more Bolivian supporters in the crowd, a sea of red, yellow and green supporters.
"Lucky us to get pitted against the second-highest rated Junior Quidditch team in our first ever match!" yelled Malfoy as he sped away.
Harry looked over at the other team. Leading the pack were Simones, Campo and Ferre, all three small but muscular-looking girls with wildly long hair flying randomly about behind them. Their beaters, Sanchez and Mariano were actually the two smallest players on the team, a fact which surprised Harry immensely; however their small size would allow them to get around quickly. Harry's first impression of their keeper, Manuel was that he was a show-off. He was doing loops in the air, and with each loop, a wave of olive-skinned supporters would rise in shouts of glee. Harry's greatest fear, however, was their seeker, Gomez. She shot straight out, faster than Harry had seen anyone go on any broom, right over to the Hogwarts side, zipped around Harry worryingly, unseating him and flew straight up into the sky. Harry, looking up, was completely blinded by the sunlight. Blinking it out of his eyes, Miss Gomez was nowhere to be seen.
Before Harry realized it, the referee had opened the box, tossed the quaffle into the air, which was caught in an impressive dive by Ginny, and released the snitch. The new strategy that Madam Hooch had come up with for the game was for Harry, as seeker, to do both the job of seeking out the elusive snitch that was fluttering around randomly and to play in the game as well, taking hits if the beaters weren't around (there was so much of Crabbe and Goyle, that didn't often happen) and throwing off opposing chasers to give Adrianne time to get to whatever goal post was being attacked at any given time. However, the snitch being the most important piece in the game, Harry was making sure to keep one eye out for it.
Ginny made off to the other end of the pitch with the quaffle, diving and weaving under the bludgers which were being hit back and forth by Sanchez and Mariano, who were indeed fast. Crabbe and Goyle clutched their Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones and tailed under the two beaters attempting to get in and grab the bludger they were knocking back and forth. The other bludger was (to Harry's delight) tailing Gomez, but Harry wanted to know exactly what kind of broom she had – she was moving considerably faster than Harry could ever do on his Firebolt.
With one mighty slam, Mariano slammed the bludger straight towards Ginny. With seconds left, she dropped the quaffle straight down. Both Ferre and Malfoy went streaking straight towards where it was falling. Harry looked down. Ferre was directly below him – now was his chance. He turned sideways on his broom and dropped faster than the quaffle directly in front of Ferre, who screamed and veered off to the left. It was the second Devin needed. He grabbed the quaffle, shot straight up and met directly up with Manuel. He turned to his right, tossed the quaffle to Hannah, who soared above Manuel and dunked the quaffle through the left hoop.
"Ten-Zero Hogwarts!" yelled the announcer, a small, but rather strong-voice red-haired Irish witch with thick, curly hair.
Harry returned to playing height, now tailing the bludger who was still tailing Gomez dizzyingly, occasionally looking down to watch the furious pace of the game below, which was moving faster than the real World Cup that Harry had watched before in this same stadium. Campo, her hair swirling twelve feet behind her in loose braids that were falling apart just as Harry watched, was tossing the Quaffle back and forth between hands, making Hannah Abbot, who was trailing her fly from right to left to cover both other chasers that Campo could throw it to. Campo saw an opening and soared straight up.
It's up to me again, thought Harry, seeing her heading towards her. He soared in front of Gomez, attracting the bludger to him and flew directly above the blurred form of Campo. She flew straight into the bludger and went spinning wildly away. Ginny swerved in, caught the quaffle, and made the second score of the game.
But the three Bolivian chasers were now more furious than ever. They dived aggressively, blocking every pass that the Gryffindors made. Adrianne, however, proved worth all her training, as she blocked three attempts to score; only letting one through.
"Omungabunga scores! Twenty-Ten Hogwarts!" yelled the announcer, as Simones flew away amidst cheers from her supporters.
Harry watched further, thinking he saw the snitch once, and, upon realizing it was nothing more than a candy wrapper, finished his dive, hooking Gomez into a following that landed her flying straight into a gigantic Bolivian flag and having to untangle herself. Turning around with a smile, he saw a terrible scene: Crabbe, Goyle, Sanchez and Mariano, and both bludgers in a flying sphere of colors and balls. At extremely close range, all four players were trying to knock one another violently off their brooms.
Harry flew towards over there in horror as Sanchez hit one of the bludgers at close range straight into Crabbe's head. Crabbe went flying off his broomstick, the latter floating, terrified, in midair. Harry strafed right, holding his hands to wither side as Crabbe went flying, watching Goyle flying after his friend. Crabbe was easily the size of Dudley, and Harry was quite apprehensive about trying to catch him, but he gritted his teeth and prepared for the 300 pounds of beater to smack straight into him. Crabbe landed, and, with a groan, Harry's Firebolt began to sink – it wasn't used to the weight. But it gave Goyle the time to fly over carrying Crabbe's broomstick, and to save Crabbe, who wildly swung his bat and was able to unseat Simones, who was just about to score a second ten points for Omungabunga.
"YEAH!" yelled Ginny, catching the Quaffle, and setting off below the battle above her.
Both teams remained neck-and-neck for the next hour of play. The score was 220-200 Omungabunga. The snitch was seen thrice, but each time one of the seekers headed the other off and was able to continue the game. The fourth time the quaffle was sighted by Gomez, who dropped straight down, remaining seated on her broom as if nothing was happening. Harry wondered if his Firebolt had that feature, but decided that it wasn't time to be wondering but time to be playing. He lay prone on the handle and aimed the Firebolt down to where the snitch was doing loop-de-loops among the heads of some of the Omungabunga supporters in the lowest stands. Gomez was far ahead and gaining quite a bit. Harry looked around for some way to strop her, and saw a bludger heading straight for him. He grabbed the bludger bodily, and held on with all his might. It struggled mightily, and Harry flew side-to-side unsettlingly. Gritting his teeth, Harry threw the shining black ball straight at the other seeker. It flew straight by her and slammed into the bottom of the stands nearby.
As if in slow motion, Harry saw the wood supporting the bleacher crack, and spectators, stands, flags and two witches selling concessions fall to the ground, starting at the center of the stand and billowing outward in a sickening ripple. Screaming spectators jumped and flew in all directions as a content bludger soared back towards Hannah. Three screaming fans jumped, grabbing onto Gomez's broom seconds before she would have grabbed the snitch. In a cascade of fans, splinters and candy, the snitch disappeared once more.
"TIME-OUT!"
All the players landed, watching as healers helped remove spectators from the debris of the bleacher. It was nearly half an hour before the game was about to start again. The Omungabunga players were sitting next to their brooms on the grassy field enjoying the sunlight, while the Hogwarts players stood around nervously, panting loudly even this long after they had been flying. Harry casually looked up…and did a double take. The snitch was flying ten feet above him. If he caught it now, would it count?
Some spectators apparently noticed too, because they were pointing. Harry then remembered the official rule considering damage-related time-outs – the game was still going, but players were not allowed to mount their brooms. Silently thanking Ron for Quidditch through the Ages, Harry ran up one aisle of stands. He was dimly aware of the booing Omungabunga fans pelting him with candy wrappers as he got to where he wanted – the snitch was hovering seven feet in front of him on a level plane, watching the proceedings with mild interest. Harry grabbed wildly, and found himself holding the robe of a nearby girl who was screaming sexual assault. Right now, Harry didn't care. He aimed the robe and tossed it.
The tropical-colored garment flew in a perfect trajectory, catching the snitch unawares in midair. The snitch was instantly tangled up in the robe, which fell to the ground.
"Adrianne!" yelled Harry.
She didn't need telling twice. She sprinted across the field, heaved up the robe and grabbed the struggling snitch. She tossed it over to Harry – but there was Gomez, right beside Harry. She grabbed Harry's knees, and both of them cascaded to the ground. She then jumped on Harry's back and reached up for the snitch – and Malfoy crashed into her, grabbing the snitch. Harry reached up, took it from Malfoy's hand and held it up to the screaming crowd.
"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" yelled the Irish witch.
"That was the coolest save I've seen," said Ron, who appeared beside Harry, grinning. "Ever."
They played four more qualification rounds after that, but none were as hard as their first game. On Saturday night (the final would start at 6:00 the next day), they sat around outside, near the French huts, eating chicken that they were roasting over an open fire, occasionally entertaining enthusiastic fans who were arriving from all over the world.
"Well," said Ron, taking a big bite of chicken, "I wish I could've played…"
"What are you talking about? There's always tomorrow's match!" said Hannah.
"Who are we playing?"
"Well," Madam Hooch began, swallowing a particularly big bit of chicken breast, "There's a game going on right now, well, since last night. We'll either be playing The American International Wizarding School in Sumatra or the Agwepo School in Burkina Faso."
"Last night?"
"Well, last time I heard the score was 6840 to 3520, Agwepo, so we'll probably be playing them."
"But their seeker must suck, if the game's been going on that long," said Adrianne with a nod to Harry.
"Well, maybe… I actually heard she's really good… but the referee thinks that the snitch left the field and is going back to India, where it's from. He said it looked a little homesick last night."
"So, tomorrow, everyone from Hogwarts will be coming, huh?"
"Yeah, I can't wait to see all my friends again!"
Harry sighed and looked around. Like so often lately, he felt something he couldn't describe. He was here, they had gone so far, yet something was telling him that it all didn't matter. All he had been thinking about lately were those words scrawled in untidy handwriting on the thick piece of parchment Harry had held two months ago. Hedwig had returned with no word from Sirius, and everyone was warning Harry to be careful. And if Sirius had been alive, why hadn't he come and seen Harry and the others, or even tried to contact them besides that note in his will? And why had the will arrived so late after his death? His name did take a few months to be cleared with the authorities, but…
"Yo."
Harry looked up in surprise. Standing behind him were Seamus and Neville. Behind them stood literally the entire school of Hogwarts spilling out across the field from the entrance hall, chattering and screaming. Teachers, ghosts, and a peeved Peeves who hadn't successfully completed a prank since Professor Artemis had begun teaching the students how to freeze him.
"Hey! You're early!"
"Yeah, well, Professor McGonagall couldn't take the pressure. She brought us all here about a day early."
"Professor McGonagall!? That's about the most unlikely person to freak about Quidditch."
"Tell me about it."
The next morning dawned bright and cold. Looking outside, Harry could see broomsticks circling over the trees of the forest beyond the château. All nine Hogwarts players were carried upon the surging hands of the crowd to their entrance where the walked again for the fifth and last time into the gigantic marble changing rooms. They were officially playing Agwepo; the snitch was discovered in Ankara, Turkey where it was asking an escaped bludger for directions.
"Alright, this is it!" said Ginny.
"Even Charlie didn't get this far," said Harry.
"He could have gotten to the real world cup."
"I guess so, but you got to this world cup."
"Heh, yeah, did you see Errol yesterday?"
"What?"
"He had, like, about 20 letters attached to him. Everyone in the family is feeling the need to write about 5 letters each. Even Percy had to write his congratulations."
"Yeah, Errol wasn't looking too good…"
"I'm wondering when he's going to die already!"
Laughing, Harry grabbed his broomstick and readied himself for the final match.
"Well, this is it, I guess," said Adrianne.
"Wow, you're pretty perceptive for a half-blood." Devin was given to fits of what Harry called being Draco-ish, but having him on his team, Harry was realizing why the sorting hat had put him in Gryffindor – not just because he had asked it to.
"Not with these mudblood-lovers around," muttered Crabbe, indicating the team.
They faintly heard the announcer yelling the names of the other team:
"From the Agwepo School in Burkina Faso, we have… Abasi… Uhcenna… Wambua…Obike… Hasani… Jawara and… DUMBLEDORE!"
Dumbledore… what? Harry didn't understand what was going on… who was named Dumbledore from Africa… was it just a coincidence? But he didn't have time, they were announcing the Hogwarts players, and the crowd was cheering louder than ever.
When Harry erupted into the stadium, the stands were full, as full as they were for the world cup. Thousands of people were shouting and screaming and when he came out a gigantic group of witches and wizards began stamping their feet shouting "Potter! Potter!" their various accents combining to make a melodious sound to his name.
Harry looked over at the other team. He could see six very dark-skinned bodies flying up in bright yellow robes around the stadium, and all six were very large and muscular without the added poundage of Crabbe and Goyle. The only girl was Abasi, their keeper, who looked so much like Angelina that Harry's brain took a few seconds to click in that she wasn't their captain from the previous year. The only white player was a small, short girl, their seeker, flying high above everyone's head in bright yellow robes. Brown hair tumbled down her back, and Harry knew before getting a close view. Annette.
Harry's heart dropped and his stomach flip-flopped to avoid it. That was none other than Annette Dumbledore, the same person who had left that note under Harry's pillow at Ron's house, who had held his hand in the field that night before the Quidditch tryouts so long ago, that had appeared bloody and weathered on his bed just a few months earlier. The shock of finding her alive, well, and attending school (she couldn't pay tuition or something, right) and in Africa no less (she was with the Order and with Lupin and…) was nearly enough to knock Harry off his broom. He grabbed hold the last second and flew foreword.
As the game began, Annette waved fiercely at the crowd… and at Harry. She then, among cheers soared down as if she had seen the snitch. Harry dropped and saw that she was flying quite close to the ground, and slowly. Realizing what she was trying to do, Harry flew up beside her, utterly confused about her situation.
"Annette?"
"Ssh! Keep your voice down!" she hissed as the blur of the crowd rose in cheers. "Listen, I can't explain now. Tell Lupin that they are angry."
She began to speed away. Harry caught up with her.
"What do you mean? Who's angry?"
"Just tell him that!"
Was this it? After all that had happened, after everything that could have been, only a message for Lupin? Wasn't she captured? What had they been doing? Lupin had looked alright… Why was she playing for the Agwepo team? Hadn't she said that she didn't attend school? Since when had she lived in Africa?
He tried to put it all out of his head, and focus on the game, which was fierce from the get-go. They used so many nasty tricks that even the Slytherins would be surprised. They repeatedly got fouls, but as many points as Hogwarts gained in foul shots; they got twice as many when they weren't seen.
Hannah caught the first ball of the game. She spun upwards and did a barrel roll, dodging a bludger and then shot straight foreword. Seeing their beaters, Uhcenna and Wambua, closing on her and catching an errant bludger, she tossed the quaffle aside to Malfoy. Just as it was about to hit Malfoy, Wambua knocked the bludger right into the quaffle. Devin jumped to the front of his Nimbus and shot for it, leaving Hannah's side unprotected. Both beaters closed on Hannah, knocking their bats straight into the front of Hannah's broom. Hannah, screaming, watched as a great crack appeared in the side of her broom. She went spinning off towards the ground, smashing into Malfoy along the way. Malfoy dropped the quaffle, which was caught by a triumphant Hasani.
"TIME OUT!"
They all landed and watched Hannah's wobbly descent to the ground, tears poring down her face.
"My-my-broom!" she sobbed.
"I haven't seen such foul tactics!" yelled the referee. "Ten points to Hogwarts."
But it got Agwepo what they wanted. Ernie subbed in, but, as Ernie usually played seeker, he wasn't as good as he could have been.
The quaffle was thrown into the air again, and this time Jawara caught it. He went flying for the Hogwarts goal posts. Adrianne flew straight in front of him, ready to grab it. He threw it sideways to Obike and they played a one-two up to the goal ring. However, seeing which ring they were aiming for, Adrianne spread out her robes like a mating lizard and made herself as big as possible to catch the ball. There was no way that a ball could get through that ring, and Obike (who presently had the quaffle) was too close to the center goal to be able to successfully aim to a different hoop. Normally, one would back up and pass it to Hasani who was behind him. Hasani made a signal with his hands. Grinning, Obike grabbed the ball and threw it straight at Adrianne's face.
Now two players were out. Harry felt sick. If Agwepo could take someone else on the Hogwarts team out, Hogwarts had lost for sure. Ron subbed in as keeper, but looked whiter than before his first game.
"I – I can play on," Adrianne choked through a mouthful of blood.
Now the game was on in earnest. Neither side cared anymore what they did. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were more than happy with this type of game, and matched the other team's every move. However, many other Hogwarts team members were less than happy about that.
Ginny got the quaffle first this time. She flew up and down in an extended wave. Just watching her made Harry feel sick. Then, showing her skill at "dirty" playing, she flew so close to the ground that Jawara, who was marking her, hit the ground sickeningly. Triumphantly, she shot straight up into the air. And then, Uhcenna fumbled and "dropped" his beater's bat. The bat fell straight towards Ginny, who swerved to avoid it, but it gave Obike time to steal it right out of her hands and kick her straight in the face. Furthermore, Uhcenna, dropping to the ground after his bat, was able to shoot down by Ginny, grab her broom and ram her straight into Malfoy. Both tumbled foreword, unsettling them.
Harry, watching Obike shoot across the pitch, dropped down by Adrianne. Ernie landed on the other side, and all three grinned at each other.
"Just a game…"
"Hell yeah!"
They all shot towards Obike. Obike smiled and tossed the quaffle right up into the air. All three of them dived for it, and, hidden by the glare of the sun, Hasani dropped out and caught it, sending the tail of his broom straight into Ernie's face. Ernie flew aide, holding his nose, as Hasani sent the quaffle sailing straight through the right hoop.
Just then, Harry caught sight of the snitch floating lazily, a glittering a prism of multicolored sparkles floating far above the pitch. He shot straight for it, feeling wind behind him. Risking a glance, he saw that Annette was close on his tail. Gritting his teeth, he shot after it, which had begun to run away. It flew towards Annette's side and now Harry saw the situation clearly: Annette was in the worse position. Harry was in the perfect position to ram into her, knocking her aside. No matter how she dodged, Harry would have that split second which was the perfect time to grab the snitch. Watched by over a million eyes, Harry shifted on his broom.
"Can't do it, can you?" mocked a voice in his head. Amber's voice. She was watching, but how could she talk directly into his head.
But he realized that she was right. Looking over at Annette, beautiful hair streaming by tantalizingly, Harry couldn't do it. He just couldn't hurt her. He pulled back, nearly screaming at his stupid, mixed-up feelings. Then he saw a bludger whiz by him and hit Annette milliseconds before she would have been able to touch the snitch. But this time, the cheer from the Hogwarts supporters was much different. There were shouts and angry voices, and though Harry couldn't make out what they were saying, Harry knew it couldn't be anything good. Angrily, Madam Hooch called for a time out.
"What do you think you're doing, Harry?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am, I…"
"You can't take it from her, can you?" drawled the voice of Malfoy,
landing behind them.
"Mr. Malfoy, kindly stay out of this," snapped Madam Hooch. "But… he does have a point. Harry, weather you've met that girl or not, you had a perfect opportunity there, and you gave it to her."
Harry said nothing. He felt shame and embarrassment eating away at every part of his body. Why? Why couldn't I just do it up there, it would have been so easy, I've done that move hundreds of times in practice!
"Ron, are you willing to play for him?"
Ron stood up, his expression unfathomable.
"Harry," he said seriously, "do you reckon you can do it?"
Harry looked at the muddy grass. Could he? What would it mean to him? How would Annette feel? It was no longer "just a game" to Harry. This tournament wasn't for winning the World Cup – it had become a battle against himself.
Slowly, Harry nodded.
Madam Hooch surveyed him then marched back to her seat at the bottom of the stands. Harry mounted his broom once more. He pushed off from the ground and flew directly into the sky, shouting. He was ready this time; he could knock Annette off her broom…
The game continued at a blinding pace. Hogwarts got more than half of its points from fouls, but Agwepo was still pulling ahead. The next sighting of the snitch happened when the score was 290 to 210, Agwepo. Night had fallen, and visibility was low. It was tailing right in the center of the pitch, perfectly at playing height. Harry saw it first – and was off like an eagle, zigzagging among players to get to it. Just then, two bludgers collided in midair and shot off in two directions – one towards Harry, and the other off towards where Annette was coming from the other side of the pitch. Harry ducked the bludger and when he brought his head up found himself surrounded by a swarm of five brooms which created a sphere around him. All three chasers and both beaters were blocking any movement, and the beaters were gesturing menacingly with their beater's bats.
"Damnit!" Harry growled between clenched teeth.
"Harry!" Harry heard Ginny's voice call from somewhere nearby. "Go down!"
However, looking down, Harry didn't exactly see a way to get down. The moving hive of Agwepo players was blocking all exits.
"Just go! Now!"
Harry closed his eyes and dived.
"Jump from your broom!"
"What?"
But Harry didn't have time. He slid lightly off the end, heard two beater's bats crack into each other above him, and fell right onto Ginny's. Grinning, Ginny accelerated towards the snitch. They were going to get there ages before Annette, even with the lost time – and suddenly everything seemed to slow down.
There world seemed darker. There was an explosion from somewhere. Harry couldn't see… just green flashes, red flashes… screaming… Harry's head hurt so much…
He was back in the Department of Mysteries, watching Sirius die, over and over again, he heard his parents last screams, he saw Voldemort rising, Cedric dying…
"EXPECTO PARTONUM!" he yelled.
The voices didn't stop. He faintly felt himself fall off Ginny's broom, but by now he was out of the world. He was screaming now, tearing and ripping at Mrs. Black's portrait, but every time he did, Kreatur would paint it again… "Sirius!"… Annette was crying, her hair as messed up as it had been… Luna was lying on the ground, her lobster slowly climbing over her ludicrous lion hat which lay broken beside her… Mrs. Weasley was crying over the dead bodies of her family members back in Grimmauld Place… He was walking towards his hearing in the Ministry… He was hearing whispers grow louder and louder…
"HARRY!" cried a distant voice.
The whispers were there, a door was opening, a key was in his hand, but why did he need a key if the door was right there, he didn't…
"HARRY! SNAP OUT OF IT!"
He fell into the supporting hands of Ron and Neville. Around him, fires and explosions let the dark night multiple colors. Most of the stands had collapsed. Voices were screaming spells.
"Death Eaters," said Ron grimly.
And leading them was a face that Harry had seen only twice before. A sickening, pearly-white face of bone, red slits of eyes shining out from below his mask, his cold, cruel body pitched in delight.
"THOSE WHO HAVE THE COURAGE TO SUPPORT LORD VOLDEMORT STAND BY ME!" he yelled in a high-pitched voice. "OTHERS, BEWARE!"
"Let's get out of here," yelled Ron, though Harry could barely hear him through the throbbing, terrible pain in his scar.
He was half-dragged out of the stadium, and then, not seeing, not hearing, he simply ran foreword, his arm detaching from Ron's and Neville's without a thought. This is it, thought Harry, I'm going to die. Sirius, if you're dead, I'll be there soon, and if you're alive, I'll be waiting for you…