The Hogwarts team filed onto the pitch amid loud cheers. The Durmstrang
team were already there. Krum stepped forward from the group - Harry
recognized a few of them as people who had been contenders for the
Triwizard Tournament two years ealier - and shook hands with Davies. He
then turned to Harry, scowling. Before he could say anything, Madam Hooch
blew her whistle and they all kicked off. A professional commentator -
someone from the Ministry of Magic - was commentating.
"And its Durmstrang in possession, hit by a Bludger and Hogwarts have the
Quaffle.."
Harry soared high above the game, trying to keep an eye on Krum and scan the pitch at the same time. He wasn't used to having an opposition that didn't spend most of the game tagging him, and nerves were dancing the tarantella in his stomach. "And Durmstrang score the first goal of the match! Its 10-nil, in favour of Durmstrang."
Harrys stomach gave an unpleasant jerk - the Durmstrang Chasers were a lot better than they had anticipated. Trying to concentrate on finding the Snitch before Krum, he glanced around the stands. His eyes focused on the Malfoys, he peered confusedly down at them. He blinked. Surely he was imagining things! Squinting, he realised that he wasn't. Panic rushed through him as he saw Malfoy seniors wand levelled right at him. He jerked his broom, trying to dart whatever unpleasant curse was sent his way, but he was too late. The all too familiar burst of pain flooded his body and dulled his senses. Only one thing remained in his mind - hang on to the broom.
He was vaguely aware of screams and a whistle blast, then the curse was lifted. HE shook his head, trying to clear his mind, hardly hearing Professor McGonagalls shouts for everyone to sit down and stay calm, and to get that child out of the air. Before he had time to get more than five feet closer to the ground, a fresh curse slammed into him. The impact caused his hands to fly off his broom. There were red-hot knives carving into him, coals heaped in his stomach..Harry waved his hands around blindly, trying to grab hold of something, anything, so long as he didn't fall out of the air. As both hands grasped something, the curse was lifted once more. Harry hardly noticed he was clutching the Snitch as though his life depended on it - he was concentrating on reaching the ground. The other members of the teams were already on the pitch, pale and shaken looking.
He hit the ground with a thud and struggled to his feet. Sirius had sprinted over and wrapped his arm round him. "You're gonna be ok, Harry," he said, voice cracking. Harry nodded dully. McGonagall was sending people off back up to the castle, while Dumbledore was speaking to the Ministry wizards who had been present. Harry caught a glimpse of Remus's terrified face as he hurried over, then blacked out.
He came to on his back in the hospital wing - a very familiar sight. Wincing, he adjusted his glasses which everyone had forgotten to remove. "Harrys awake," he heard someone exclaim. At once Sirius bounded to his side and t ried to make him lay down again. "Stop it," Harry muttered, trying to ignore the throb in his scar. "I'm ok, allright?" "You're not!" Sirius said angrily. "Some Death Eater just went and threw the Cruciatus Curse on you, and you say you're ok. Harry, those curses were on you for at least 5 minutes! I've known people to be half mad after that long." Harry scowled. "I'm fine, stop fussing, at least my scar wasn't killing me, ok?"
"If you're fine," Remus said, "Why are youre hands shaking that much?" Harry glanced down at them. Sure enough, his hands seemed to be having spasms. "Err, well." "Its side effects," Snape said brusquely. "And if you don't want the effects to be permanent, take kthis potion." He thrust a small bottle filled with a purple liquid at Harry and strode out of the room. Harry swallowed it apprehensively. "Disgusting stuff," he said, pulling a face at the bottle.
"Well, Harry, that was an impressive catch," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. Harry felt embarrassed. "It wasn't meant to be a catch, Professor. I was trying to grab hold of my broomstick." He glanced automatically around the room, looking for it. Sirius noticed him. "I've put it in a safe spot, so stop worrying," he said. "Now, if I could do the same with you." he glared at Harry. Dumbledore smiled. "And seeing as that is impossible, at least until Sirius invents a way to do it, I've pacified him with the idea of you having extra Defence lessons. Duelling, I think, would be a good skill for you to learn. Both Sirius and Professor Snape will be instructing you, for reasons known only to myself." He paused. "Yes, I think that is all. Now, youd better get some sleep, Harry Potter, if you plan on attending school at all this week."
Harry was in a bad mood when he walked into breakfast the next morning. People had stared at him all the way there, and he wasn't in the mood for them to stare at him while he ate. Sure enough, as he walked into the Hall a great hush fell and people stared in his direction. Scowling, he made his way to the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione smiled nervously at him.
"Err, you ok, mate?" Ron asked eventually. Harry nodded. Hermione began her usual spiel of worrying. "Oh Harry, you could have died, you could have gone mad, you could have" "Well I didn't!" Harry snapped irritably at her. Hermione stopped midsentence, looking hurt. Harry felt bad. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm stressed out right now. I'm having extra Defence lessons with Snape, and hes probably gonna use them as an excuse to kill me or something, and I'm sick of people fussing over me, I'm not totally useless am I, I excaped Voldemort 4 times, I can look after myself." He would have said more, he was interrupted. "Ahem." It was Fred. "Someone to talk to you, Harry." He gestured towards Krum, who was minus his usual scowl. "Yes?" Harry said shortly. "Gut flying," Krum said. Harry's face relaxed into a slightly bitter smile.
"Thanks. Sit down." He gestured vaguely at the table. Krum sat next to Hermione. Ron looked simply furious. Any other time, Harry would have laughed, but he wasn't in the mood. "It was an accident." He said. "Pardon?" Krum said. "Me catching the Snitch. I was trying to grab my broom, so I didn't fall." Krum shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It was a very good catch. How long have you been flying?" Harry helped himself to toast. "Since my first year." "Don't listen to him!" Ron interrupted. "Harry's a great player, he was the youngest on a team for over a century. Only ever lost one game, and that was an accident." "Vot happened? Krum asked, curious. "Dementors," Harry replied shortly. Krum obviously realised Harry didn't want to go into it, so he turned to Hermione. "Herm-own-ninny? You said you'd explain the Muggle game of Football to me?" Hermione at once launched into a detailed explanation, which both Harry and Ron ignored.
Harry soared high above the game, trying to keep an eye on Krum and scan the pitch at the same time. He wasn't used to having an opposition that didn't spend most of the game tagging him, and nerves were dancing the tarantella in his stomach. "And Durmstrang score the first goal of the match! Its 10-nil, in favour of Durmstrang."
Harrys stomach gave an unpleasant jerk - the Durmstrang Chasers were a lot better than they had anticipated. Trying to concentrate on finding the Snitch before Krum, he glanced around the stands. His eyes focused on the Malfoys, he peered confusedly down at them. He blinked. Surely he was imagining things! Squinting, he realised that he wasn't. Panic rushed through him as he saw Malfoy seniors wand levelled right at him. He jerked his broom, trying to dart whatever unpleasant curse was sent his way, but he was too late. The all too familiar burst of pain flooded his body and dulled his senses. Only one thing remained in his mind - hang on to the broom.
He was vaguely aware of screams and a whistle blast, then the curse was lifted. HE shook his head, trying to clear his mind, hardly hearing Professor McGonagalls shouts for everyone to sit down and stay calm, and to get that child out of the air. Before he had time to get more than five feet closer to the ground, a fresh curse slammed into him. The impact caused his hands to fly off his broom. There were red-hot knives carving into him, coals heaped in his stomach..Harry waved his hands around blindly, trying to grab hold of something, anything, so long as he didn't fall out of the air. As both hands grasped something, the curse was lifted once more. Harry hardly noticed he was clutching the Snitch as though his life depended on it - he was concentrating on reaching the ground. The other members of the teams were already on the pitch, pale and shaken looking.
He hit the ground with a thud and struggled to his feet. Sirius had sprinted over and wrapped his arm round him. "You're gonna be ok, Harry," he said, voice cracking. Harry nodded dully. McGonagall was sending people off back up to the castle, while Dumbledore was speaking to the Ministry wizards who had been present. Harry caught a glimpse of Remus's terrified face as he hurried over, then blacked out.
He came to on his back in the hospital wing - a very familiar sight. Wincing, he adjusted his glasses which everyone had forgotten to remove. "Harrys awake," he heard someone exclaim. At once Sirius bounded to his side and t ried to make him lay down again. "Stop it," Harry muttered, trying to ignore the throb in his scar. "I'm ok, allright?" "You're not!" Sirius said angrily. "Some Death Eater just went and threw the Cruciatus Curse on you, and you say you're ok. Harry, those curses were on you for at least 5 minutes! I've known people to be half mad after that long." Harry scowled. "I'm fine, stop fussing, at least my scar wasn't killing me, ok?"
"If you're fine," Remus said, "Why are youre hands shaking that much?" Harry glanced down at them. Sure enough, his hands seemed to be having spasms. "Err, well." "Its side effects," Snape said brusquely. "And if you don't want the effects to be permanent, take kthis potion." He thrust a small bottle filled with a purple liquid at Harry and strode out of the room. Harry swallowed it apprehensively. "Disgusting stuff," he said, pulling a face at the bottle.
"Well, Harry, that was an impressive catch," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. Harry felt embarrassed. "It wasn't meant to be a catch, Professor. I was trying to grab hold of my broomstick." He glanced automatically around the room, looking for it. Sirius noticed him. "I've put it in a safe spot, so stop worrying," he said. "Now, if I could do the same with you." he glared at Harry. Dumbledore smiled. "And seeing as that is impossible, at least until Sirius invents a way to do it, I've pacified him with the idea of you having extra Defence lessons. Duelling, I think, would be a good skill for you to learn. Both Sirius and Professor Snape will be instructing you, for reasons known only to myself." He paused. "Yes, I think that is all. Now, youd better get some sleep, Harry Potter, if you plan on attending school at all this week."
Harry was in a bad mood when he walked into breakfast the next morning. People had stared at him all the way there, and he wasn't in the mood for them to stare at him while he ate. Sure enough, as he walked into the Hall a great hush fell and people stared in his direction. Scowling, he made his way to the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione smiled nervously at him.
"Err, you ok, mate?" Ron asked eventually. Harry nodded. Hermione began her usual spiel of worrying. "Oh Harry, you could have died, you could have gone mad, you could have" "Well I didn't!" Harry snapped irritably at her. Hermione stopped midsentence, looking hurt. Harry felt bad. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm stressed out right now. I'm having extra Defence lessons with Snape, and hes probably gonna use them as an excuse to kill me or something, and I'm sick of people fussing over me, I'm not totally useless am I, I excaped Voldemort 4 times, I can look after myself." He would have said more, he was interrupted. "Ahem." It was Fred. "Someone to talk to you, Harry." He gestured towards Krum, who was minus his usual scowl. "Yes?" Harry said shortly. "Gut flying," Krum said. Harry's face relaxed into a slightly bitter smile.
"Thanks. Sit down." He gestured vaguely at the table. Krum sat next to Hermione. Ron looked simply furious. Any other time, Harry would have laughed, but he wasn't in the mood. "It was an accident." He said. "Pardon?" Krum said. "Me catching the Snitch. I was trying to grab my broom, so I didn't fall." Krum shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It was a very good catch. How long have you been flying?" Harry helped himself to toast. "Since my first year." "Don't listen to him!" Ron interrupted. "Harry's a great player, he was the youngest on a team for over a century. Only ever lost one game, and that was an accident." "Vot happened? Krum asked, curious. "Dementors," Harry replied shortly. Krum obviously realised Harry didn't want to go into it, so he turned to Hermione. "Herm-own-ninny? You said you'd explain the Muggle game of Football to me?" Hermione at once launched into a detailed explanation, which both Harry and Ron ignored.