Whisp: *walks in looking nervous, compulsively straightening her tie* Er, hello everybody.

Sirius: *follows Whisp in, also compulsively straightening his tie* Hi!

Whisp: Umm . . . er . . . have any of you ever tried to write a Quidditch match? It's a lot harder than it looks, trust me!

Sirius: Therefore this chapter is quite short, it will probably one of the shortest ones in the entire story.

Whisp: Now, that are done with all the notices unto the thank you-s:

Keara Jordan: I thought that too! Sirius did remind of Strider and Harry of Frodo, I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that. Thanks for reviewing The Flu and All in the Family also!

Cg: Sorry, that is classified information.

Jocelyn Magus: I will, sorry school interferes with my writing too much, and here's some more. Enjoy!

Tschubi-chan: Guilty, I do have a thing for the LotR, especially Aragorn. Hehe. Nothing in my stories is ever ordinary; you should know that by now. (

Sophie W.: That seems to be the recurring line in most of my reviews lately. But don't I always make up for the long wait with nice long chapters?

sweets: Of course we're going to see Pitch Black again; we are also going to see why Dumbledore gave Sirius the Care of Magical Creature position but not in this chapter. As for the Quidditch match, I'll let you survey the damage. The rest is classified information, sorry.

Wolfie: Thanks to you my house no longer has doors! I had to crash my way through them because my head was too big! Thank you for all your amazing praise, my ego loves you.

summersun: Harry thought it was.

Shadow: *glomps* I missed you Shadow! It's been ages since I've seen a review from you. Don't you disappear like that again!

Libby: Don't worry, I won't stop.

Sandrine Black: I hope you enjoy this one too! Harry's adventures haven't even started yet. ;)

Lavander Ice: This wait wasn't _too_ long was it? See, I'm getting back on track.

Miranda Flairgold: I'll see what I can do about the frogs.

vmr: Thank you!

Special Thanks: Thank you my amazing betas: Essence of Magic and Immia.

Sequel to Harry Potter and the Emerald Eye. (I suggest you read that first, but you don't have to, it's just a good idea.) Harry's in for quite a year when he starts seeing things that no one else can, is it a dream? Or is he really going crazy? Questions start arising like what did Voldemort do to his victim after he killed them? This has it all; mystery, insanity, a lot of Sirius and Remus, and everyone calls Harry a lunatic at least once! ;)

Disclaimer - This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own the plot and a few original things. Elven itself all belongs to the master himself J. R. R. Tolkien.

Chapter 7: An Unexpected Meeting

The wind whipped passed Harry's face as he flew above the crowd. A blaze of red and green shouted on their teams below him as his sharp eyes scanned the field for a speck of gold.

"Nice steal by Katie Bell of Gryffindor," Lee Jordon commentated from below.

Cheers from the crowd echoed in Harry's ear as . . .

There! At the foot of one of the Slytherin's goal post! The Golden Snitch!

Harry shot at it. He was gaining ground quickly, Malfoy was miles behind him. Closer and closer until it was within his reach—his hand was about to close around the cool metal of the ball . . .

"HARRY WAKE UP!"

Harry shot up in bed. His curtains were pulled back to reveal a shining sun and the blurry outline of a lanky, red headed boy.

"Here," Ron said handing Harry his glasses.

"What time is it?" muttered Harry, shoving the glasses on.

"Time for breakfast, and then game time," said Ron, emphasizing the last two words.

Getting the drift, Harry bounded out of bed, changed, grabbed his Firebolt and Quidditch robes, and followed Ron downstairs.

They met Hermione at the breakfast table, a book propped up against a milk jug as usual. She pointed to two plates, already piled high with bacon and eggs.

Obviously this was meant for Harry who didn't eat anything before Quidditch matches, end term exams, tasks; any scheduled life risking events.

Harry picked at the food while Katie dashed back and forth behind him urging the team to eat.

"Where's Longo?" she demanded suddenly. "He should be eating with the team."

"He's down there," George supplied pointing with his fork.

Harry look to where George was pointing, down at the very end of the table looking very much like Hermione with a Quidditch magazine propped up against a milk jug was Norman Longo.

Katie pursed her lips before shouting, "Team! Locker rooms!"



Fifteen minutes later the Gryffindor Quidditch team emerged onto the Quidditch pitch. The stadium burst into cheers as Lee Jordan announced them.

"Bell, Spinnet, Johnson, Weasley, Weasley, Longo, and Potter. As you may remember Potter's performance against the Hungarian Horntail last was perhaps the most amazing flying—"

"Jordan," McGonagall sighed.

"Er, sorry Professor, anyway let's just say that the Slytherin's Seeker better watch out."

Madam Hooch who was refereeing told Katie and Slytherin's new captain Adrian Pucey to shake hands. Pucey looked more like he was trying to break Katie hand than shake it.

"On my whistle you will mount your brooms and kick off," Madam Hooch said, "Three . . . two . . . one."

TWEET!

"And the game begins. The Quaffle is taken immediately by Katie Bell of Gryffindor—nice pass to Angelina Johnson—back to Bell—now to Spinnet—watch out for that Bludger!" Lee screamed in the megaphone.

Alicia loop-a-looped, avoiding the Bludger by mere inches but dropping the Quaffle. George sped after the Bludger, smacking it toward Pucey.

"Slytherin in possession—no! it's knocked away by a Bludger—Gryffindor back in possession—Johnson to Spinnet to Bell and back again, look at that passing! Better yet look at those—"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry! Sorry Professor! Lost my head for a moment!" Lee shouted as McGonagall beat him over the head with her own megaphone. "Ouch! Have you been lifting weights? No, no, that won't be necessary; I'll get back to the game. Riggs of Slytherin takes the Quaffle—he's is speeding up the field—somebody knock him off his broom already—thank you! Nice Bludger work by either Fred or George Weasley—Spinnet gets the Quaffle—passes to Johnson who passes to Bell—SCORE! GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Harry grinned as the crowd burst into applause. He flew around the field once at top speed to let off his feelings.

"You go just do that Potter," a drawling voice said as Slytherin took the Quaffle.

"Malfoy," Harry growled, concentrating on the match once again. Due to a letter, and a large donation to the school Malfoy had become the Slytherin seeker since their second year. He had never beat Harry in a match.

"Yes, you go show off your broom while I _actually_ play," sneered Malfoy as Angelina scored another goal. "How much did pretty boy pay for that broom anyway?"

"Pretty boy?" Harry said blankly, his eyes not leaving the match.

"Our so called Care of Magical Creatures teacher," said Malfoy.

Harry eyes flashed, "Leave Sirius out of this."

"Oh, did I strike a nerve?"

"No—Go Norman!" Harry yelled as Longo pulled off a spectacular save.

Malfoy chuckled, "Another one."

"Huh?"

"Oh," said Malfoy, "you don't know do you?"

"Know what?"

Sniggering, Malfoy whispered, "His mother also died saving him from Voldemort."

WHOOSH!

Harry was streaking up the field straight at the Gryffindor goal posts. He shot past Riggs who was trying to score a goal, straight through one of the hoops. He could hear Malfoy behind him, but his eyes were focused on the golden, winged, walnut-sized ball only a few feet away. He shot forward, closing his hands around the cold metal ball.

WHUMP!

Harry spun around just in time to see the Quaffle bounce off of Malfoy's nose. Longo turned to Harry and smirked.

"We won," Longo said simply over the roar of the crowd.

"Yeah," Harry grinned. "C'mon, let's go fly our victory lap."

Harry and Longo glided down still grinning. When they landed they were attacked by a sea of red. Katie was jumping around screaming, "We won! We won!"

Harry was being hugged, and backslapped by anyone and everyone. He scanned the crowd for one particular face.

"Ruff!"

His head jerked toward the stands; there stood a mammoth black dog wagging his tail happily.

Harry's grin broadened.

"PARTY!"

~*~

Later that night, well after McGonagall had come and broken up the party, Harry sat in Sirius's study, bathed in warm candle light, reading an ancient Elven text.

"Sirius, how old is this again?" he asked.

Sirius who had his feet on his desk, looked up from the report he reading, "At least a thousand years old, why?"

"Somebody wrote Snape is an ugly git in the margin."

"They had some very good seers back then," replied Sirius trying to remain dignified and failing miserably.

Harry put down the text and looked at his godfather sternly.

"Yes?" Sirius said.

"What did you think of the match?"

"It was good."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Come on Sirius, you know what I mean."

"Oh," Sirius said thoughtfully. "The Chasers were superb, the Beaters were fantastic the Keeper was great, and you my dear boy were spectacular."

Harry's eyes lit up.

"Better?"

"Much."

"Good. Now, you bed."

"But—"

"If McGonagall knew I kept you up this late she would have my head on a silver platter."



When Harry returned to the common room it was deserted. The fire had died down to embers casting shadows on the walls. Harry, suddenly feeling exhausted, dragged himself toward the staircase and his warm bed.

"Went for a late night walk?"

Harry spun around.

Seated in the nearest armchair with a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages open on his lap was Norman Longo.

"You!" Harry snapped.

"Yep, it's me," Longo said cheekily.

"What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Harry narrowed his eyes at Longo as if daring him to ask.

"Not that I'm going to . . ." Longo trailed off.

"Well if you're not, I'm going to bed, see you in the morning." Harry turned toward the staircase again, just as he was above to leave Longo spoke up again.

"Er, Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I know this is going to sound . . ."

Harry turned around again and stared at Longo, "Sound what?"

"Stupid, but do you know how to do a Woollongong Shimmy?"

Harry's eye brow arched, "But that's a Chaser move . . ."

"I know, I know, but I saw a Keeper do it once and worked really well so I thought I could try and do it too, but . . . it's harder than it looks."

"Don't I know it, ever try a Wronski Feint? Now, those _are_ hard," Harry said.

"I know you know what is really easy though."

"What?"

"The Starfish and Stick, it has to be the easiest move even though it looks so hard."

"Just as long as you can swing back on your broom," Harry pointed out.

Longo nodded, laughing.

"I liked how you hit Malfoy with the Quaffle today, right on the nose."

"Bull's eye!"

They laughed.

They chatted for a while before the clock chimed causing them both to yawn.

"It's late," Harry muttered sleepily. "I'm going to bed, coming?"

Longo shook his head, "Nah, I want to finish this thing for Gudgeon."

"Okay see you in the morning," Harry rose to his feet and started to head up the staircase.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

""Elen sila lumenn omentilmo."