Weird Happenings

It was the approaching the second match of the Quidditch Cup, the Gryffindors versus the Ravenclaws. The Quidditch pitch was filled with red and dark blue figures everyday at any free-periods possible. During the practices, Ron would reply Harry in an automatic tone, and end every instruction with 'Yes Captain', which drives Harry nuts.

At the same time, Harry was trying to explain to both Ginny and Ron. From Fred and George, Harry figured he might have hurt Ginny that day when she went to see him. It was unintentional, which did not help in Harry's explanations.

"You don't even know you're hurting her? Do you need a knife in your hand and stab it through her before you know you hurt her?" Ron retorted. Harry had no reply to that. It was three days since they had that fight, and almost two weeks since they had not spoken civil words to each other. As much as Harry would like to admit it, he missed his friend. It was like last year, when he had a cold war with Ron. He spent more time with Cho and Hermione, either discussing homework or Quidditch. But he missed his friend.

Amidst all these, Harry had to cope with the increasing homework, due to his O.W.Ls at the end of the year. And he has to survive through the gruelling Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. Miss Hugh gives them projects for them to work on the various dark curses and spells. She would organize games and quizzes during lessons to keep the fifth-years awake. Other times, she would make them do worksheets, and even give them frequent tests to check on who's weaker. Even Neville is improving in Defence Against the Dark Arts. But that was before. For some reason (which the fifth-years can easily guessed), Miss Hugh had been giving them extensive work and increasing projects. As much as DADA presently is one of the subjects that fifth-years are best in, it also became the subject with the most homework and projects, beating Transfiguration and Potions off the students' usual list. Added to that, throw in Divination, History of Magic and every other subject, Harry wished he could have a Time-Turner for himself.

Even with the hectic schedule, Harry managed to keep Quidditch practices in his time-table. He and the team had decided on Sunday mornings to be their official training days. The moment practice ends, Harry would have to run back to Gryffindor Tower and rush through his homework. With any luck, he would finish before dinner, and have an hour or two of rest. If not, he would have to speed through dinner and rush back to continue his work.

With the upcoming match with Ravenclaw, Harry tried to squeeze in another extra hour for training. So that Sunday morning, he was sitting on the field, waiting for his team mates to arrive. Except that he was doing his DADA homework, which was to research on the other curses and their effects. Harry was poring through a huge book which he had borrowed from the library named The Guide to Bad Curses.

"Cryosilia Curse… temporarily paralyse the victim," Harry muttered, running his gloved finger down the details of the curse.

"Hm… there's got to be more about this curse," Harry said out loud.

"Cryosilia Curse, the magic goes into the spinal cords and freezes it. There were many people in the past who were permanently paralysed because of this curse," a voice said. Harry thanked the voice absent-mindedly and jotted the point down.

'Huh?'

Harry turned and saw Alex peering at his notes. "Alex!"

Alex smiled faintly. "Good morning. DADA?"

Harry kept his notes, which was shamefully untidy, and nodded. "Where are the others?"

Alex shrugged. "Not many people get up here an hour before our practice. At this times, we need all the sleep we can get."

Harry stretched and yawned involuntarily. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty, there's still a half hour left."

Harry nodded. He shifted around uneasily in his Quidditch robes and looked away from Alex. They had not been this alone for a long time, about a month actually. Harry felt the same warmth rushing to his face.

"Harry…"

Harry couldn't help it but turned to face her. "Hm?"

"I'm sorry… I..." Alex trailed off. She didn't know how continue, her heart was beating too fast. Looking into Harry's eyes, she felt herself at a loss of words. Alex hated herself for who she is, and how she felt towards Harry.

Harry found himself smiling. "That's ok."

Alex smiled back at him, and Harry felt his heart pounding harder. She looked so beautiful…

"Morning Harry! Morning Alex!" Angelina and Alicia ran into the pitch and joined them. At their invitation, Alex went off to practice flying. Harry decided it's about time he went to get the balls.

Harry was lugging the balls back to the pitch when he felt a sharp jolting pain in his forehead. He dropped the box and clutched his forehead. He knelt down, leaning against the box and pressing on his forehead. When he looked at his fingers, there was a faint red patch on his finger tips.

"Harry?" Harry looked up, and saw a flash of red. He could not recognize the face. The pain was blinding him.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Harry could not recognize the voice either.

"Harry! You're bleeding!" It was then Harry finally recognized that voice.

"R…Ron?"

His vision finally cleared, but some form of liquid was dripping into his eyes. "Hi Ron…"

Ron's face was creased with worry. "I'll get you to Madam Pomfrey. You're bleeding like crazy." Harry felt Ron helped him up and with a grunt, half-dragged him towards the hospital wing.

Throughout the entire way, Harry's mind was whirling in a pool of memories. His ears were filled with his parents' cries he heard in third-year. His memory kept replaying the scenes where he saw his parents appearing from Voldemort's wand. He saw a flash of green light and his mother collapse in front of him. He saw the tip of the wand on his head.

Then, there was nothing.

*            *            *

When Harry came to, the first thing he saw was the entire Quidditch team staring at him. Well, not entirely. He could not see the familiar freckled face red-head.

"Harry, are you alright?" Angelina asked. Harry nodded and smiled weakly.

"Where's Ron?" he asked, pushing himself up in a sitting position.

"He? He collapsed after he dragged you in here," Madam Pomfrey smiled bemusedly. "I must admit, you were pretty heavy."

"Where is Ron?" Harry asked, slightly worried.

 "I'm here. Ouch, you almost pulled my arm off when you collapsed on me."

Ron appeared between the Quidditch team, his arm in a bandage. He was wearing an awkward grin.

They grinned foolishly at each other. Then Harry spoke up. "Thank you."

The fight was half-over.

"What happened?" Fred asked. Harry looked at Ron and Madam Pomfrey.

Ron snickered. "A Bludger flew out and knocked into Harry."

Harry was thankful for the story, even if it did seem a bit humiliating. "Something should have been done about those chains."

Madam Pomfrey patted Harry's forehead gently. There was a bandage on his head. "Alright! The patient needs his rest! Shoo, all of you!"

Alex lingered behind for a while, her sharp green eyes slightly narrowed. Harry could feel her eyes boring into his mind and he looked away. Ron waved tentatively at him and left.

"Madam Pomfrey, what's wrong with me?" Harry asked.

Madam Pomfrey looked distressed. "I don't know. You'll have to ask Professor Dumbledore."

Harry sighed. "When can I be discharged?"

At this, Madam Pomfrey removed the bandage and checked. "If all goes well, you can leave in about two hours. I'll just give you some lotion and you should be fine."

Harry nodded and fell back onto the pillows. Somehow, he had a foreboding feeling that he could not explain. Is it the way his scar hurt, or the way Alex looked at him?

*            *            *

Harry could not find the time to look for Professor Dumbledore after he was discharged; that was how busy he was. His 'incident with the Bludger' was kept to a dull roar, thanks to Madam Pomfrey and the Quidditch team. There were no questions asked, just a few annoying chuckles from Fred and George.

Yet Harry could not erase the ominous feeling he had gotten at the hospital wing. But he had no time to care for that. The match was in less than a week away, and Harry was getting the nerves. At the same time, his relationship with Ron had gone back to the freezer stage, but not the artic stage, which in Harry's opinion, was a large improvement. At least Ron did not call him 'Captain' after every sentence.

The big day finally came, and like every time before a match, Harry had no appetite. Before him was a magnificent spread of whipped potatoes and mountains of chicken drumsticks, and not to mention countless pieces of delicious bacon, but he simply had no appetite.

Harry fiddled with his bacon piece, and put it into his mouth. Despite having zero appetite, Harry knew that he had to eat something. The last thing he wanted was to faint halfway through the game. As he chewed listlessly, his eyes wandered around the Great Hall. It was rather empty, despite the fact that it was nearing lunchtime. Then his eyes strayed over to the Slytherin tables and almost choked.

Malfoy and Alex were sitting together chatting about something. Harry's stomach lurched and he had the vicious feeling to break the plate sitting in front of him. His fork was already bending slightly under his trembling hands. Malfoy sneaked a look at him, and smirked. Harry tightened his grip on the fork and resisted the urge to throw it at Malfoy. Then Alex turned to see who Malfoy was staring at. She smiled widely at Harry and excused herself.

"No appetite?" Alex asked, plopping herself down in front of Harry. Harry smiled weakly, but his murderous glare was still at Malfoy. Alex turned and found herself in the middle of a killer staring incident.

"Erm… you guys…" Alex started, looking extremely torn. The staring contest continued despite her protest.

"Oh boy… I give up!" Alex threw her hands up and stalked out of the Great Hall. Surprisingly, she had some glassy look in her eyes as she strode out of the Great Hall. Malfoy may not have seen it, but when Alex is only a foot away from you, you can see the water rolling in her eyeballs. Harry forgot about the bacon and coleslaw in his plate and ran after Alex.

Harry panted and wiped off the beads of perspiration off his forehead. It was a HH day, hot and humid. After being too used to the Hogwarts life of the lack of running away from Dudley, and broomstick riding, Harry knew his stamina was deteriorating. Either that or Alex is a cheetah. With an unwelcome stitch in his side, he looked at his new watch, and realised that he was left with half an hour to change into his Quidditch robes.

Harry sighed and ran to get his robes. His Firebolt was already waiting faithfully in the room, where he left it in the morning. Ron was already in his robes, cleaning his broomstick. Angelina and Alicia were chatting about gripping the Quaffle. Fred and George were bent over a book, surprisingly. Alex was nowhere to be found, but her Firebolt and her robes were not in the room. Harry changed quickly into his robes and grabbed his Firebolt. With a hunch in mind, he heads purposefully to the Quidditch Pitch. He was right. Alex was zooming at what seemed like sixty miles an hour in random directions in the Quidditch pitch. Harry mounted his broom and joined her in air.

"Alex? What's wrong?" he called. Alex stopped at his voice. She smiled.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

Harry flew up beside her. "Why were you crying?"

Alex widened her eyes slightly. "I wasn't. There… there were too much onions on my plate."

Harry sensed she did not want to talk about it, and accepted her explanation. As if on cue, Angelina flew up to them and pulled them down. The crowds were starting to coagulate. They flew down and joined their teammates.  He smiled tentatively at Ron, whose lips twitched before he turned away to his brothers. Tension mounts as the chattering outside grew from a buzz into a full fledge hubbub. All too soon, Jordan Lee's voice floated over the atmosphere.

"Welcome once again to the second match of the Quidditch Cup! Today we'll be having Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw! The referee will be Professor Hugh!"

A thunderous cheer rose from the two houses as their team soared in air. Jordan continued with the introduction of the teams. Harry felt the wind through his robes and the comforting breeze soothing his nervous feelings, as usual.

"Will the captains please shake hands?"

Cho and Harry smiled as they gripped each other's hands tightly.

"And we now see that Professor Hugh is holding the Quaffle."

A whistle blast through the tensed whisperings. "And there goes the Quaffle!"