********Author's Note** Welcome to the next chapter, and the rest of that exciting fight I started in Chapter 15! Not much to say in this chapter. This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend Michelle, who not only came to see me in Japan, but gave me a beautiful glass plaque with a Sirius Black quote on it! ^_^ Hooray for Michelle, helping me through my period of mourning.
Reviewer Responses are, as always, at the end.
Enjoy! Neo*********
Chapter Sixteen
The New Rules
Bill pushed Harry behind him, and took a step back. "I don't think so," Bill said, his voice cold.
Harry looked at Ron. "Run," he mouthed. Ron shook his head. He had his wand out. Harry turned around toward Hermione. She was pale, but her wand was pointing around Bill toward the wizard. "Run," he hissed again, but Hermione didn't move.
Higgins suddenly lunged. A jet of violet light burst out of his wand. Ginny screamed.
"Protego!" Bill shouted. The curse bounced back, knocking Higgins backward. Bill pushed Harry again, this time down the path. "Run!" he shouted as Harry stumbled. "Get out of here!"
Suddenly Hermione had grabbed Harry's arm. "Come on!" she shouted.
Harry didn't move. He had pulled his wand out. Higgins had come for him. He wouldn't let Bill be injured on his behalf.
Higgins's voice rang out. "AVADA—" Suddenly, something smashed into Harry's back, and he and Hermione fell face forward into the mud. Harry's face collided painfully with a rock, and he felt an explosion of pain in his jaw.
"STUPEFY!" Bill shouted.
"CRUCIO!" Higgins shouted at the same time.
Suddenly, there were three sharp cracks, and three loud shouts of "Stupefy!"
Harry raised his head, but it was no good. He couldn't see around the mud caked over his glasses, and whatever had hit him so hard had pinned both of his arms to the ground.
"I think you got him, Professors," Bill said. His voice was shaky.
"Ginny, get off," Ron said, and Harry felt an elbow in the small of his back as Ginny stood up. She must have thrown herself on top of him when Higgins tried to use the Killing Curse. Harry got to his knees, and pulled his glasses off. The world was silvery with rain and blurred, but at least he could see. Ron was helping Hermione to her feet, and put a hand out to help up Harry.
Harry gingerly touched his cheek. There was a gash running from his cheekbone to his jaw where he'd hit the stone, and his mouth was full of blood. He spat it out. One of his teeth had been knocked out. He squinted his eyes and spotted it, a little dot of white in the black-brown mud.
"Is he dead, Albus?" Professor McGonagall said behind them.
"No," Dumbledore said, his voice grave. "But he is quite unconscious. Tonks, would you be so kind as to bind him up?"
"Harry—you're bleeding!" Hermione said. Harry felt Ron pull him to his feet.
"My face hit a stone," he said, nodding toward the ground. The cut, which was no doubt full of mud, was throbbing horribly.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly standing in front of him.
"I'm fine, Professor," Harry said. "It's just a cut."
Dumbledore looked him over slowly. Finally, satisfied that Harry was okay, he stood up. "We should get you back to the hospital wing right away," he said. "That looks painful." He took Harry's glasses from him, tapped them with his wand, and handed them back to Harry, clean and whole. Harry slipped them on gingerly. His cheek had already swollen so that the round frames pressed painfully against his injured face. He wanted to wince, but that required moving his face.
Ron and Hermione were staring at him, their eyes full of concern. Ginny was kneeling nearby. She had clearly scraped her knee badly when she dived onto Harry—blood was running down her robes. "You too, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said gravely, looking Ginny over.
Harry wiped his hand on the back of his robes to clean it a bit, and reached out to Ginny. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. "Thanks," he said. He wanted to smile in a reassuring way, but that required moving his face.
"You'd have done the same for any of us," she replied.
"Mobilicorpus," said McGonagall. Higgins suddenly rose into the air in front of them. He was clearly unconscious. He was bound by ropes, but his head lolled from side to side like a balloon on a stick. Tonks pulled a fire-engine red handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to Harry. He pressed it to his bloody cheek.
"Well done, Bill," Dumbledore said, shaking Bill's hand.
"I should have sent up the alarm sooner," Bill said, looking at Ginny's bleeding knee and Harry's bleeding face. Harry spat out another mouthful of blood. "I hesitated when I saw it was Higgins."
"Any of us would have done the same," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "I've known Higgins since he was a boy here at Hogwarts. You did well."
"Thank you, sir," Bill said, sounding more like a student who had just received praise after a difficult exam than his usual, cool self.
"Where should we take him?" Tonks asked Dumbledore, nodding at the floating body of Higgins.
"The hospital wing. He will need to be examined by Madame Pomfrey while we wait for Scullion to arrive," Dumbledore said. "Come along, then. Harry, Ginny, can you both make it to the castle, or should we conjure some stretchers?"
They shook their heads. Harry could walk fine, and Ginny put her arm around Ron's shoulders for support. The walk back to the castle was silent and painful. Ron was half-carrying Ginny, whose muddy, scraped knee had swollen to the size of a quaffle. Every step jarred Harry's face painfully, and he had his hand clutched so tightly around his wand and tooth that he could feel them cutting into the palm of his hand. Higgins's body bobbed up and down behind them like a strange, flopping balloon being trailed along by Professor McGonagall.
Madame Pomfrey looked horrified at the sight of Harry and Ginny. "I should've known!" she said as soon as she saw them. "I was afraid I'd be seeing you today. What happened? More dark curses?"
"I hit a stone," Harry said, his voice rather muffled and distorted by all the swelling. Mud and rainwater were pooling at his feet, but Madame Pomfrey didn't seem to notice.
"We'll mend that in just a moment," Madame Pomfrey said, as she helped Ginny onto a bed.
"Be extra careful with this one," Tonks said as Higgins bobbed into the room.
"Is that Cyril Higgins? What happened to him?" Madame Pomfrey said, motioning Tonks toward a bed near the far wall.
"He attacked us," Ron said bitterly.
"Cyril? Cyril attacked you?" Madame Pomfrey said, shocked.
"He may be under the Imperius Curse, Poppy," Dumbledore said. He flicked his wand, and thick ropes sprang out, binding Higgins to the bed. "Either way, he must be kept under careful supervision. Try to keep him asleep; I'm sending for Scullion, and he should arrive shortly to deal with him. If Higgins wakes up, summon me at once."
"Of course, Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey said, pulling the curtains around the bed. The teachers disappeared behind them for a moment.
Harry looked at Ron. He wanted to ask, "Who is Scullion?" but his cheek was too painful to move. Ron, however, seemed to guess what Harry wanted to ask.
"I don't know who he is, but the name's familiar," Ron said. "I think Dad mentioned him once before."
"He's the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Hermione said. "There was an article about him in the Prophet last week."
"Higgins is an auror," Bill said. "Scullion is his boss."
"Some auror," Ron muttered.
Madame Pomfrey came bustling out of the curtains, and disappeared into a nearby cupboard. She returned carrying several glistening bottles of potion. One she carried into Higgins's enclosure; the others she sat on a table beside the bed.
"I leave you in the able hands of Madame Pomfrey," Dumbledore said. "If you'll excuse me. Bill, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, I'd like a word with you all, if you please."
Ron and Hermione cast Harry and Ginny worried glances as they followed Dumbledore out of the hospital wing.
"Don't worry," Tonks said cheerfully. "I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will be able to mend you right up."
"I think," Professor McGonagall said, her lips thin, "that under the circumstances it would be best to cancel tomorrow's quidditch match."
"What?" Harry and Ginny both shouted. In Harry's case, it was more of a wet gurgling, but McGonagall's narrowed lips showed that she understood all the same.
"Professor—they're only cuts! Madame Pomfrey can mend this kind of stuff in a minute!" Ginny protested. "We'll be good as new before suppertime—there's no need to cancel tomorrow's match!"
"It's not your injuries that worry me," McGonagall said. "We have reserve players who can take your places if need be, do we not? No, it's security that I'm worried about." She sighed. "I want to win that quidditch cup again this year as much as the two of you do, but the quidditch pitch is very exposed. You'll be easy targets for any dark wizards in the vicinity—"
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but the sudden stab of pain in his cheek made him close it again. Fortunately, Ginny had had the same thought.
"But Professor, the entire school, including the professors will all be there! No one will try anything right under Professor Dumbledore's nose!"
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together thoughtfully. After a long pause, she turned to Harry. "I'll speak to the headmaster, Potter," she said at last. "I'll send you our decision before breakfast tomorrow."
Harry still wanted to protest, but couldn't get his mouth open enough. Finally, he nodded, dumbly. Ginny sighed in exasperation.
"Come along, Tonks," McGonagall said. "We'll need to send a message to Molly Weasley straight away."
"Take care," Tonks said to Harry and Ginny as they slipped out the door. For a moment, there was silence except for the sound of Madame Pomfrey tending to Higgins behind the curtain.
"Don't worry, Harry," Ginny said quietly. "There's no way McGonagall will cancel the match."
Harry shrugged in response. To be honest, he didn't understand why she'd want to cancel the match now. They'd known that Voldemort and his followers were on the loose all term, and there had been plenty of time to institute whatever security measures she wanted.
"Now," Madame Pomfrey said, bustling out of the curtains and wiping her hands on her apron, "let's get those cuts clean. You first, Harry," she said, grabbing the bluish bottle she'd sat down earlier. She pushed his head gently sideways. "This may sting a bit," she warned as she poured the thick syrup onto his cheek. It fizzed as it rolled into the wound, and it hurt as though she were pinching it hard.
He struggled and managed to open his mouth a bit, sending the bluish fizz running down his chin. "My tooth," he managed to spit out thickly. He opened his fist to show her the dirty tooth clutched there.
"Ah," she said. "We'll mend that next. While that's working, let's see that knee, Ginny."
It took forever for the fizzy potion to clean all the mud out of the gash in Harry's cheek, and even longer for the gargle Madame Pomfrey gave him to regrow his missing tooth. Ginny, whose knee had been mended in a trice, waited around until Harry was all patched up. He wasn't exactly good as new—his face was still swollen and a little tender—but he was confident that he'd be fine well before the morning's quidditch match.
Madame Pomfrey insisted that he and Ginny stay for a little observation, so they changed into clean robes and ate their supper on trays brought up from the Great Hall. Afterward, Madame Pomfrey suggested they lay down for a brief rest. Ginny apparently hadn't been joking when she'd said she was exhausted, because she was fast asleep almost instantly. Harry, feeling a bit guilty, mentally promised to take it easier on the quidditch team once the first match was over.
He leaned against his pillow for a long time, feigning sleep in order to satisfy Madame Pomfrey, but not really tired. He listened to her bustling about nearby, his mind wandering. Then, just when he was wondering if it wasn't time for him to pretend to wake up, he heard the door to the hospital wing open, and two pairs of footsteps enter. He heard them whispering.
"—had no idea, of course. They're rigorously tested—all my wizards are, you know. Higgins is—"
"Madame Pomfrey," Dumbledore's voice interrupted quietly, "I'd like you to meet Augustus Scullion."
"How do you do, Mr. Scullion," Madame Pomfrey whispered.
"Charmed, I'm sure," Scullion whispered, back. "He hasn't given you any trouble?"
Harry rolled his head slightly and opened one eye. They were standing in a tight group near Higgins's bed. Scullion was a rather tall and burly man. He had brown hair streaked with gray, bound in a neat ponytail, and a bristly goatee. One of the D.o.M.L.E. badges was fixed to his royal blue robes.
"He's been asleep the whole time. I'm afraid there was rather a lot of damage from all the stunners—three to the chest from such powerful wizards, you know—but I managed to patch him up a bit."
"As I was saying, Augustus," Dumbledore said, "we examined him for evidence of the Dark Mark, but found none. In light of his personal history, and Bill Weasley's account of the events, I believe he is under the Imperious Curse."
"Impossible!" Scullion whispered, his eyes widening and his tone more one of shock than denial. "We examined all of aurors thoroughly just this morning, before we selected the Hogsmeade team!"
"Then either he is voluntarily serving Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said, "or Death Eaters in Hogsmeade itself put the curse on him during the day."
"But we've been carefully monitoring the village all day—only a few people came or left, and all of them cleared our security checks."
"It is possible," Dumbledore said calmly, "that they either live in Hogsmeade, or came to the village some time ago in order to avoid your security. Of course, having the Imperius Curse performed under our very noses calls all of our security measures into question. The sooner we find out exactly what happened to Higgins, the better."
"I'd like to examine him myself," Scullion said. "Of course, either way, I think we're going to have to put him in confinement."
"Of course," Dumbledore said, holding the curtains around Higgins's bed aside for Scullion to walk through.
Madame Pomfrey cast a quick look at the beds and spotted Harry's open eye. She pulled the curtains around Higgins's bed and crossed to Harry. She looked at his cheek again, and then nodded. "If you're awake, then you may go," she said. "Come straight back if you feel any pain."
"What about Ginny?" Harry asked.
"I'll send her along when she wakes up," Madame Pomfrey said, walking away. She disappeared behind the curtains.
Harry took his wand and his old tooth (the new one still felt strange and slippery to him) and headed back to Gryffindor tower. He was still a bit hungry, and more than a little eager to talk to Ron and Hermione.
The common room was crowded with people, most of them in high spirits after a day in Hogsmeade and with the prospect of both a quidditch match and the Halloween feast the next day. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione sitting in the best armchairs by the fire, Hermione writing in her new diary, and Ron watching Harry's model quidditch team zip around the miniature pitch. Harry came over and sank into an armchair beside them.
"Harry! How's your face?" Hermione said, her eyes wide.
"It's fine," Harry said quickly. "Just a little bruised. Madame Pomfrey said it would go away in a few days. It only got so bad because of the mud, you know."
"Oh," said Hermione, tucking her diary away.
"How's Ginny?" Ron asked.
"Fine," Harry said. "Madame Pomfrey mended her knee in no time, but Ginny's having a nap now. She was pretty tired."
"We were worried when you didn't turn up for dinner, but Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let us into the hospital wing to check on you," Ron said.
"I think she thought we were kidding when we said they were perfectly normal injuries. She thought we were hiding some kind of horrible dark curses from her. Listen, I have to tell you something," Harry said, and quietly told them about Scullion's visit and McGonagall wanting to cancel the match.
"Higgins is under the Imperius curse?" Hermione asked. But Ron interrupted her.
"She can't cancel the match!" Ron said, horrified. "All the Slytherins will think we're backing out because we're scared! No way we can cancel now!"
"I know," Harry said, nodding. "And after all we've trained—well, she just can't, that's all. Anyway, it doesn't make sense. They've known all term that Voldemort was out there—why are they worrying now?"
"Well, until now, there were no attacks anywhere near here, were there?" Hermione said. "They thought that Voldemort was staying away from Dumbledore. But now it turns out he's only been biding his time. Of course they're worried. I thought they might do something like this. When did she say she'd tell you about the game?"
"Before breakfast tomorrow," Harry said. He spotted Eva Gregory, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan headed toward them. "Don't tell the others," he said quickly. "I want everyone to play their best game tomorrow, and there's no sense in worrying them."
Ron nodded just as Eva sat on the arm of his chair.
"We heard what happened," said Eva, looking at Harry with concern. "Are you okay? You'll be good for tomorrow?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Just a little cut, nothing to worry about."
"Where's Ginny?" Dean asked.
"Having a nap," Harry grinned. "She fell asleep as soon as she hit the pillow."
"I'm not surprised," said Dean. "She's always up until the middle of the night."
"Are you all ready for tomorrow?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "Big game. We've got to beat Slytherin."
"Of course we are," said Seamus, grinning in a determined sort of way.
Harry nodded. "Everyone goes to bed in an hour," he said. "We're going to have breakfast together first thing, and I don't want anyone oversleeping."
They nodded, and, grave faced, returned to their own corners of the common room. Harry joined Ron in prodding the quidditch team, both preparing and worrying about the next day, until a quick look at his watch told him that the hour had passed, and he stood and shouted "Team! Bed!"
Of course, Harry couldn't sleep. He put on his pajamas and lay down in bed, but he felt wide awake. He listened to the sound of the rain and the other boys snoring. He couldn't help agonizing about how he'd tell the team the game was cancelled the following morning, and he felt restless and nervous.
When he guessed he must have been lying there for hours, he quietly got up, put on his dressing gown, and went back down to the common room. The miniature quidditch team was still sitting on the table where he and Ron had left it. Harry sat down in front of it. All the players were lying in a heap, snoozing, except for the little Seeker, who was anxiously circling the field, ever searching for the miniscule snitch. Harry watched him go round and round, over and over, until his head began to droop, and he leaned back, dozing in his chair.
"Harry Potter, Sir!"
Harry jerked awake. "Wha—?" he said sleepily. The common room was full of murky gray light, and completely empty save for himself, and the little figure standing on the arm of his chair.
"Dobby!" Harry said, smiling. "How are you?"
"Dobby is doing very well, Sir," said Dobby, smiling. He looked good. He was no longer wearing Hermione's pile of elf-hats, having switched instead to one, giant, floppy straw monstrosity with a plastic daisy sticking out of it. He also had on a child's t-shirt with a picture of an owl on it. "Dobby is worrying about Harry Potter, though. Yesterday, Dobby is hearing that Harry Potter and his friends was attacked by a nasty dark wizard. Dobby is very worried about Harry Potter, sir," Dobby finished in a grave voice.
"I'm fine, Dobby," Harry said. "I was hardly hurt at all."
Dobby's chest swelled with happiness. "Dobby is very happy to hear it, Sir! Dobby wanted to see for himself, of course, so Dobby volunteered to bring Harry Potter this." Dobby lifted his hat, and Harry could see all manner of odd things piled underneath it. There were a number of odd buttons on a string, a few spare socks, a small cleaning brush that had lost half its bristles, a very small bottle with a peeling paper label, and a very small roll of parchment. Dobby pulled out the parchment and held it out to Harry.
"Thanks," Harry said. He unrolled it and read,
"Mr. Potter,
After consulting with the headmaster, we have decided not to cancel or postpone the quidditch match scheduled for today."
"Yes!" Harry said, letting out a sigh of relief. Dobby beamed. Harry kept reading.
"However, security is still a problem. Therefore, we have instituted the following rules, effective until further notice.
1— All quidditch materials and all players' brooms will be inspected before every match.
2— No quidditch games or practices will take place after dark. All games will end one hour before sunset, regardless of whether or not the snitch has been caught.
3— If any player exhibits signs of obvious distress due to magical interference, that player will be immediately pulled from the game, and replaced by a reserve player. If no reserve player is available, the match will end immediately.
Good luck in today's game.
Yours,
Minerva McGonagall."
Harry dropped the letter and sighed.
"Is everything okay, Harry Potter?" Dobby asked, peering nervously into Harry's face.
"Yeah," Harry said. "No. They aren't cancelling the quidditch match, but they're adding a bunch of special rules." It could have been worse, he thought to himself. But it could have been better. Why did he have to go into Hogsmeade yesterday?
"Hey, Dobby, what time is it?" Harry asked suddenly. He'd never gotten around to replacing his watch.
Dobby pulled a pocket watch on a bit of string from inside his t-shirt. "It's almost six o'clock, Harry Potter, Sir!" Dobby said cheerfully.
"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said. "I really appreciate it. How's Winky, by the way?" He added as an afterthought.
Dobby shook his head. "Winky is still drinking very much, Sir," Dobby said. "Dobby is starting to think that Winky should leave Hogwarts and find a new family. But it won't be easy, Sir."
"Oh," Harry said, unsure of how to reply to this. "Well—if there's anything we can do—"
"Oh, thank you, Harry Potter, Sir!" Dobby smiled. "Thank you very much, Sir. And Dobby will tell Winky that Harry Potter asked about her, sir. Winky will be happy to hear that Harry Potter is remembering her."
"See you, Dobby," Harry said as Dobby bowed and hurried out of the room.
Harry dressed, and went down to breakfast ahead of the rest of the team, although Dean and Seamus had already been waking up. To his surprise, he wasn't the only one in the Great Hall.
"Morning, Ginny," he said, sitting down beside her.
"Morning," she said absently, as a blurb of porridge dripped off her spoon. Harry guessed she was just nervous about the upcoming game. He knew he was, and he expected the others would be. As the Gryffindor team slowly drifted in, Harry's suspicions were confirmed. Eva Gregory sat down a few seats away from Harry, looking unusually pale, and spent a solid twenty minutes buttering a piece of toast. Kirke didn't even bother, but just leaned against the table with a terrified look. Dean and Seamus came down together and sat down beside Ginny. Dean ate a few sausages that Ginny pushed onto his plate, and Seamus ate as though he might never get another meal. Harry warned him to slow down a bit, as visions of Seamus being sick outside the pitch floated through his head.
Ron was the only one who didn't seem frightened at the prospect of their first quidditch game as a whole team. He came, a small grin on his face, into the Great Hall, but stopped and groaned before he slipped into the chair between Harry and Eva.
"What?" Eva asked.
"It's pouring outside," he said, looking at the ceiling. "We could've done with a bit of sunshine for our first match. Still—" he said, giving Harry a furtive look, "could've been worse."
"It is worse," Harry said, and told them about the new "security" rules in effect. He finished up with, "Since the game has to end an hour before sunset, and considering the weather, I'd guess that gives us until about four o'clock. That's a solid five hours, but it'll be best if we can get the snitch early on. I'll be aiming for a fast capture, of course, but in this downpour," he nodded toward the ceiling, "it'll be difficult. So it'll be critical that we get plenty of goals and, Ron, you have to stop Slytherin from scoring at all costs. Dean and Seamus—I want you to be vicious with those bludgers. Stop at nothing."
When he finished he realized the rest of the team were staring at him with expressions that stopped just short of horrified disbelief. Harry sighed.
"Look, I know it's far from ideal, but it's nothing we can't manage. We can do this. We know we can do this. Now, you should all eat something—except for you, Seamus. Maybe you should go walk for a while or something."
The Great Hall had filled with students, all chatting excitedly about the first match of the season, wearing their team colors, and toting their umbrellas. Hermione came down, and Ron filled her in on the new rules. Luna even wore her huge lion's head hat again, but this time, she'd found the time to add the snake in the jaws that she'd wanted the last year. Harry laughed out loud when Luna demonstrated the very realistic lion-chewing-on-snake effect she'd conjured up, but he was the only one. Ron gave Harry a look of disgust. Harry shrugged. Hermione politely complimented Luna's creativity.
All too soon, they were heading down to the pitch, Harry feeling decidedly nauseous with his anxiety over the match. His desire to prove himself, his anger about the new rules, and everything else, had combined to make him feel much the same way he'd felt walking into the dragon paddock in his fourth year. The team changed into their robes, their faces pale and full of determination. Harry showed them all how to cast the water-repelling charms on their faces, and they headed up onto the field.
At last, they emerged onto the pitch. The stands erupted with noise as the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws welcomed them onto the field. Harry waved to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was the new commentator now that Lee Jordan had gone. Harry very much doubted the commentating would have the same sort of colorful additions Lee had always provided. They took their positions. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Madame Hooch were inspecting each player's broom, as well as the balls. At last, they nodded their satisfaction, and walked off the field.
Traditionally, the team captains greeted one another at the start of a match. Harry would have much preferred plunging his hand into a barrel full of frog guts over shaking Malfoy's hand, but he reached out obligingly.
"Surprised you even bothered turning up, Potter," Malfoy grinned. "Thought you'd be too afraid of the big, bad dark wizards."
"What, your dad and his chums?" Harry said. "Sorry, Malfoy. Last I heard they were still in prison."
Malfoy jerked his hand away.
The snitch was released. Harry saw it for only a fraction of a second before it was swallowed up by the sheets of silver rain. On Madame Hooch's whistle they kicked off. Harry wanted to watch his team, maybe shouting out encouragement, but he had to stay focused on catching the snitch as quickly as possible. He contented himself with listening to Justin.
"And there they go. That's Slytherin's Warrington in possession—nice to see he's back to normal, wonder if we'll ever find out how he ended up in that toilet—and a solid pass to Adrian Pucey. Pucey headed up the pitch… he's headed for the goals… oh, a nice bit of bludger work by Seamus Finnigan. It's Finnigan's first year on the quidditch team, and he's off to a great start. So, that's Ginny Weasley in possession—Weasley previously played Seeker, of course—and a pass to Eva Gregory… wow! Look at her go! Pass to Kirke—where's he going?"
Harry spun around, squinting his eyes toward the Slytherin side. What was Kirke doing?
"Kirke seems to be running away from the Slytherin keeper—pass back to Gregory—Gregory shoots… Oh, an excellent save by Graham Pritchard! His first year on the Slytherin side as well, he's doing great. That's Warrington in possession again… Malcolm Baddock… Pucey… Warrington… he shoots! An easy block for veteran keeper, Ron Weasley!"
Harry heard an impromptu chorus of "Weasley is our King" break out from the Gryffindor side of the pitch. He smiled.
The game continued in stalemate for quite a while. Both teams had good chasers, but they each had even better keepers. Ron was good, but Graham Pritchard, the new Slytherin keeper, was amazing. He seemed to know every move Ginny and Eva were planning to make beforehand, and always managed to block the ring. Harry, meanwhile, focused his attention on finding the snitch, and tried hard not to spend all his time watching and shouting instructions to his team.
"Come on, Eva!" he yelled encouragingly as she advanced on the Slytherin goals, but Pritchard blocked the ring again. Harry circled the pitch. He was starting to feel quietly alarmed. It was always hard to judge time while playing quidditch, but he guessed that they'd been at it for almost two hours, which meant their time was half-up.
After another half-hour or so, Harry heard a loud roar from the audience. He had been concentrating on the snitch, and not on the game. He strained his ears. "Well done, Gregory, with an excellent assist by Ginny Weasley. Ten points to Gryffindor." Harry let out an excited whoop, and did a celebratory loop.
"Don't get so excited, Potter," Malfoy said, flying nearby. "The sun's starting to go down."
"Fine by me," Harry said. "We're winning. Anyway, I'll have the snitch in a minute." He hoped his voice sounded a bit more confident than he felt.
Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, but was drowned out by another surge of noise.
"Oooh, bad luck, Ron! An excellent score by newcomer Malcolm Baddock! Tie-score, ten-all."
Malfoy smirked and flew away.
Harry redoubled his efforts to find the snitch. His eyes were beginning to burn with the strain. Unfortunately, the heavy rain meant that he could barely see the rest of the team, much less a tiny, distant speck of gold. He circled the pitch. He was all too aware of the sky growing slowly darker. He strained harder, circling. Malfoy was nearby—Harry had his eye on him, just in case Malfoy spotted the snitch first. The intensifying rain spilled, icily into his eyes. He had to find it. He had to find it.
Suddenly, a whistle cut across the game play. Harry jumped. Had Malfoy called a time-out? He looked across, but Malfoy looked just as startled as he was. Madame Hooch was signaling for them to come down. They both dropped to the ground.
"What's going on?" Malfoy demanded. "Who called time-out?"
"Sorry," Madame Hooch said, looking a little irritated herself, "but the game has ended."
"WHAT?" Harry and Malfoy shouted together.
"It's not dark yet!" Harry protested.
"We haven't caught the snitch yet!" Malfoy added.
"Come on, Madame Hooch!" Harry said. "Another thirty minutes. One of us has to at least score first—the game will end in a tie!"
"I know," Madame Hooch said. "But we can barely see you in the rain, and Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster think it best." She sighed, and made a face that clearly said she agreed with them. "Sorry."
Her whistle cut across the field, creating a rippling silence. The only sound was the pounding rain, and the odd "WHACK!" as the bludgers continued to zoom around the field, crashing into things.
"This match is over!" Madame Hooch shouted. "Tie game!"
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Reviewer Responses:
Scorpion Lord: We also know that Snape started spying again because in OotP, Snape told Harry it wasn't his job to find out what the Dark Lord was thinking, and Harry said, "No, that's your job isn't it?" Personally, I think it was pretty risky for him to go back...
Hagrid is going to see the giants every day! It's just not really important. If I write a sequal (Harry Potter 7??!) then they would be really critical, so I introduced them, but they aren't that big of a deal to this particular epic, so...
Ahhhh, nice detective work. OK, I'll give you one. Yes, it is important that it was Mira who "found" the ring and brought it back to Harry. Why and how so, I won't say, though. ;)
Kraeg001: I love cliffhangers. Thanks!
KurtCobain444666: Glad you like it! Hope you keep reading.
Janet: I think Harry would have liked to have dueled Higgins, but the others wouldn't have allowed it. Still, Harry will have plenty of chances to prove himself! (plus, Higgins isn't usually a bad guy!)
Bigstu: Glad you've enjoyed it so far. Hope I didn't keep you waiting.
Jbfritz: Thanks! Hope I didn't keep you waiting either!
FireTempest: Whew! Thanks for the support on the Katie front! Hope you enjoyed the new chapter.
Wiccan PussyKat: LOL! Ok, I won't keep you waiting so long anymore. I'll try and keep to weekly updates.
The guardian charm is an interesting one. It has definite possibilities!
Yes, Bill knows something about the ring that Harry doesn't. What that is will be revealed in the fullness of time...
Sorry, no blood everywhere. A little bit of blood, though. Poor Harry, lost a tooth! Losing teeth is about the grossest thing for me...
I promise to do my best to keep the chapters fairly regular. ^_^
Prongs4: Thanks so much! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Godrick Gal: Yeah, what *is* the deal with that ring??!! *wink* I'm so pleased that the suspense is driving you mad! That means I'm doing my job well. Thanks for the congratulations. My nephew is the world's cutest baby.
Sasinak: If I didn't leave it in inconvenient places, how could I be sure that people would come back for the next chapter?
Harry/Hermione 4 ever: I definitely think there's some sexual tension there (show me a pair of 16 year old male/female friends who don't have sexual tension!) but since JKR herself has said that Hermione and Ron have a thing going on, I lean more in that direction. Sorry!
Reviewer Responses are, as always, at the end.
Enjoy! Neo*********
Chapter Sixteen
The New Rules
Bill pushed Harry behind him, and took a step back. "I don't think so," Bill said, his voice cold.
Harry looked at Ron. "Run," he mouthed. Ron shook his head. He had his wand out. Harry turned around toward Hermione. She was pale, but her wand was pointing around Bill toward the wizard. "Run," he hissed again, but Hermione didn't move.
Higgins suddenly lunged. A jet of violet light burst out of his wand. Ginny screamed.
"Protego!" Bill shouted. The curse bounced back, knocking Higgins backward. Bill pushed Harry again, this time down the path. "Run!" he shouted as Harry stumbled. "Get out of here!"
Suddenly Hermione had grabbed Harry's arm. "Come on!" she shouted.
Harry didn't move. He had pulled his wand out. Higgins had come for him. He wouldn't let Bill be injured on his behalf.
Higgins's voice rang out. "AVADA—" Suddenly, something smashed into Harry's back, and he and Hermione fell face forward into the mud. Harry's face collided painfully with a rock, and he felt an explosion of pain in his jaw.
"STUPEFY!" Bill shouted.
"CRUCIO!" Higgins shouted at the same time.
Suddenly, there were three sharp cracks, and three loud shouts of "Stupefy!"
Harry raised his head, but it was no good. He couldn't see around the mud caked over his glasses, and whatever had hit him so hard had pinned both of his arms to the ground.
"I think you got him, Professors," Bill said. His voice was shaky.
"Ginny, get off," Ron said, and Harry felt an elbow in the small of his back as Ginny stood up. She must have thrown herself on top of him when Higgins tried to use the Killing Curse. Harry got to his knees, and pulled his glasses off. The world was silvery with rain and blurred, but at least he could see. Ron was helping Hermione to her feet, and put a hand out to help up Harry.
Harry gingerly touched his cheek. There was a gash running from his cheekbone to his jaw where he'd hit the stone, and his mouth was full of blood. He spat it out. One of his teeth had been knocked out. He squinted his eyes and spotted it, a little dot of white in the black-brown mud.
"Is he dead, Albus?" Professor McGonagall said behind them.
"No," Dumbledore said, his voice grave. "But he is quite unconscious. Tonks, would you be so kind as to bind him up?"
"Harry—you're bleeding!" Hermione said. Harry felt Ron pull him to his feet.
"My face hit a stone," he said, nodding toward the ground. The cut, which was no doubt full of mud, was throbbing horribly.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly standing in front of him.
"I'm fine, Professor," Harry said. "It's just a cut."
Dumbledore looked him over slowly. Finally, satisfied that Harry was okay, he stood up. "We should get you back to the hospital wing right away," he said. "That looks painful." He took Harry's glasses from him, tapped them with his wand, and handed them back to Harry, clean and whole. Harry slipped them on gingerly. His cheek had already swollen so that the round frames pressed painfully against his injured face. He wanted to wince, but that required moving his face.
Ron and Hermione were staring at him, their eyes full of concern. Ginny was kneeling nearby. She had clearly scraped her knee badly when she dived onto Harry—blood was running down her robes. "You too, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said gravely, looking Ginny over.
Harry wiped his hand on the back of his robes to clean it a bit, and reached out to Ginny. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. "Thanks," he said. He wanted to smile in a reassuring way, but that required moving his face.
"You'd have done the same for any of us," she replied.
"Mobilicorpus," said McGonagall. Higgins suddenly rose into the air in front of them. He was clearly unconscious. He was bound by ropes, but his head lolled from side to side like a balloon on a stick. Tonks pulled a fire-engine red handkerchief out of her pocket and handed it to Harry. He pressed it to his bloody cheek.
"Well done, Bill," Dumbledore said, shaking Bill's hand.
"I should have sent up the alarm sooner," Bill said, looking at Ginny's bleeding knee and Harry's bleeding face. Harry spat out another mouthful of blood. "I hesitated when I saw it was Higgins."
"Any of us would have done the same," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "I've known Higgins since he was a boy here at Hogwarts. You did well."
"Thank you, sir," Bill said, sounding more like a student who had just received praise after a difficult exam than his usual, cool self.
"Where should we take him?" Tonks asked Dumbledore, nodding at the floating body of Higgins.
"The hospital wing. He will need to be examined by Madame Pomfrey while we wait for Scullion to arrive," Dumbledore said. "Come along, then. Harry, Ginny, can you both make it to the castle, or should we conjure some stretchers?"
They shook their heads. Harry could walk fine, and Ginny put her arm around Ron's shoulders for support. The walk back to the castle was silent and painful. Ron was half-carrying Ginny, whose muddy, scraped knee had swollen to the size of a quaffle. Every step jarred Harry's face painfully, and he had his hand clutched so tightly around his wand and tooth that he could feel them cutting into the palm of his hand. Higgins's body bobbed up and down behind them like a strange, flopping balloon being trailed along by Professor McGonagall.
Madame Pomfrey looked horrified at the sight of Harry and Ginny. "I should've known!" she said as soon as she saw them. "I was afraid I'd be seeing you today. What happened? More dark curses?"
"I hit a stone," Harry said, his voice rather muffled and distorted by all the swelling. Mud and rainwater were pooling at his feet, but Madame Pomfrey didn't seem to notice.
"We'll mend that in just a moment," Madame Pomfrey said, as she helped Ginny onto a bed.
"Be extra careful with this one," Tonks said as Higgins bobbed into the room.
"Is that Cyril Higgins? What happened to him?" Madame Pomfrey said, motioning Tonks toward a bed near the far wall.
"He attacked us," Ron said bitterly.
"Cyril? Cyril attacked you?" Madame Pomfrey said, shocked.
"He may be under the Imperius Curse, Poppy," Dumbledore said. He flicked his wand, and thick ropes sprang out, binding Higgins to the bed. "Either way, he must be kept under careful supervision. Try to keep him asleep; I'm sending for Scullion, and he should arrive shortly to deal with him. If Higgins wakes up, summon me at once."
"Of course, Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey said, pulling the curtains around the bed. The teachers disappeared behind them for a moment.
Harry looked at Ron. He wanted to ask, "Who is Scullion?" but his cheek was too painful to move. Ron, however, seemed to guess what Harry wanted to ask.
"I don't know who he is, but the name's familiar," Ron said. "I think Dad mentioned him once before."
"He's the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Hermione said. "There was an article about him in the Prophet last week."
"Higgins is an auror," Bill said. "Scullion is his boss."
"Some auror," Ron muttered.
Madame Pomfrey came bustling out of the curtains, and disappeared into a nearby cupboard. She returned carrying several glistening bottles of potion. One she carried into Higgins's enclosure; the others she sat on a table beside the bed.
"I leave you in the able hands of Madame Pomfrey," Dumbledore said. "If you'll excuse me. Bill, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, I'd like a word with you all, if you please."
Ron and Hermione cast Harry and Ginny worried glances as they followed Dumbledore out of the hospital wing.
"Don't worry," Tonks said cheerfully. "I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will be able to mend you right up."
"I think," Professor McGonagall said, her lips thin, "that under the circumstances it would be best to cancel tomorrow's quidditch match."
"What?" Harry and Ginny both shouted. In Harry's case, it was more of a wet gurgling, but McGonagall's narrowed lips showed that she understood all the same.
"Professor—they're only cuts! Madame Pomfrey can mend this kind of stuff in a minute!" Ginny protested. "We'll be good as new before suppertime—there's no need to cancel tomorrow's match!"
"It's not your injuries that worry me," McGonagall said. "We have reserve players who can take your places if need be, do we not? No, it's security that I'm worried about." She sighed. "I want to win that quidditch cup again this year as much as the two of you do, but the quidditch pitch is very exposed. You'll be easy targets for any dark wizards in the vicinity—"
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but the sudden stab of pain in his cheek made him close it again. Fortunately, Ginny had had the same thought.
"But Professor, the entire school, including the professors will all be there! No one will try anything right under Professor Dumbledore's nose!"
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together thoughtfully. After a long pause, she turned to Harry. "I'll speak to the headmaster, Potter," she said at last. "I'll send you our decision before breakfast tomorrow."
Harry still wanted to protest, but couldn't get his mouth open enough. Finally, he nodded, dumbly. Ginny sighed in exasperation.
"Come along, Tonks," McGonagall said. "We'll need to send a message to Molly Weasley straight away."
"Take care," Tonks said to Harry and Ginny as they slipped out the door. For a moment, there was silence except for the sound of Madame Pomfrey tending to Higgins behind the curtain.
"Don't worry, Harry," Ginny said quietly. "There's no way McGonagall will cancel the match."
Harry shrugged in response. To be honest, he didn't understand why she'd want to cancel the match now. They'd known that Voldemort and his followers were on the loose all term, and there had been plenty of time to institute whatever security measures she wanted.
"Now," Madame Pomfrey said, bustling out of the curtains and wiping her hands on her apron, "let's get those cuts clean. You first, Harry," she said, grabbing the bluish bottle she'd sat down earlier. She pushed his head gently sideways. "This may sting a bit," she warned as she poured the thick syrup onto his cheek. It fizzed as it rolled into the wound, and it hurt as though she were pinching it hard.
He struggled and managed to open his mouth a bit, sending the bluish fizz running down his chin. "My tooth," he managed to spit out thickly. He opened his fist to show her the dirty tooth clutched there.
"Ah," she said. "We'll mend that next. While that's working, let's see that knee, Ginny."
It took forever for the fizzy potion to clean all the mud out of the gash in Harry's cheek, and even longer for the gargle Madame Pomfrey gave him to regrow his missing tooth. Ginny, whose knee had been mended in a trice, waited around until Harry was all patched up. He wasn't exactly good as new—his face was still swollen and a little tender—but he was confident that he'd be fine well before the morning's quidditch match.
Madame Pomfrey insisted that he and Ginny stay for a little observation, so they changed into clean robes and ate their supper on trays brought up from the Great Hall. Afterward, Madame Pomfrey suggested they lay down for a brief rest. Ginny apparently hadn't been joking when she'd said she was exhausted, because she was fast asleep almost instantly. Harry, feeling a bit guilty, mentally promised to take it easier on the quidditch team once the first match was over.
He leaned against his pillow for a long time, feigning sleep in order to satisfy Madame Pomfrey, but not really tired. He listened to her bustling about nearby, his mind wandering. Then, just when he was wondering if it wasn't time for him to pretend to wake up, he heard the door to the hospital wing open, and two pairs of footsteps enter. He heard them whispering.
"—had no idea, of course. They're rigorously tested—all my wizards are, you know. Higgins is—"
"Madame Pomfrey," Dumbledore's voice interrupted quietly, "I'd like you to meet Augustus Scullion."
"How do you do, Mr. Scullion," Madame Pomfrey whispered.
"Charmed, I'm sure," Scullion whispered, back. "He hasn't given you any trouble?"
Harry rolled his head slightly and opened one eye. They were standing in a tight group near Higgins's bed. Scullion was a rather tall and burly man. He had brown hair streaked with gray, bound in a neat ponytail, and a bristly goatee. One of the D.o.M.L.E. badges was fixed to his royal blue robes.
"He's been asleep the whole time. I'm afraid there was rather a lot of damage from all the stunners—three to the chest from such powerful wizards, you know—but I managed to patch him up a bit."
"As I was saying, Augustus," Dumbledore said, "we examined him for evidence of the Dark Mark, but found none. In light of his personal history, and Bill Weasley's account of the events, I believe he is under the Imperious Curse."
"Impossible!" Scullion whispered, his eyes widening and his tone more one of shock than denial. "We examined all of aurors thoroughly just this morning, before we selected the Hogsmeade team!"
"Then either he is voluntarily serving Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said, "or Death Eaters in Hogsmeade itself put the curse on him during the day."
"But we've been carefully monitoring the village all day—only a few people came or left, and all of them cleared our security checks."
"It is possible," Dumbledore said calmly, "that they either live in Hogsmeade, or came to the village some time ago in order to avoid your security. Of course, having the Imperius Curse performed under our very noses calls all of our security measures into question. The sooner we find out exactly what happened to Higgins, the better."
"I'd like to examine him myself," Scullion said. "Of course, either way, I think we're going to have to put him in confinement."
"Of course," Dumbledore said, holding the curtains around Higgins's bed aside for Scullion to walk through.
Madame Pomfrey cast a quick look at the beds and spotted Harry's open eye. She pulled the curtains around Higgins's bed and crossed to Harry. She looked at his cheek again, and then nodded. "If you're awake, then you may go," she said. "Come straight back if you feel any pain."
"What about Ginny?" Harry asked.
"I'll send her along when she wakes up," Madame Pomfrey said, walking away. She disappeared behind the curtains.
Harry took his wand and his old tooth (the new one still felt strange and slippery to him) and headed back to Gryffindor tower. He was still a bit hungry, and more than a little eager to talk to Ron and Hermione.
The common room was crowded with people, most of them in high spirits after a day in Hogsmeade and with the prospect of both a quidditch match and the Halloween feast the next day. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione sitting in the best armchairs by the fire, Hermione writing in her new diary, and Ron watching Harry's model quidditch team zip around the miniature pitch. Harry came over and sank into an armchair beside them.
"Harry! How's your face?" Hermione said, her eyes wide.
"It's fine," Harry said quickly. "Just a little bruised. Madame Pomfrey said it would go away in a few days. It only got so bad because of the mud, you know."
"Oh," said Hermione, tucking her diary away.
"How's Ginny?" Ron asked.
"Fine," Harry said. "Madame Pomfrey mended her knee in no time, but Ginny's having a nap now. She was pretty tired."
"We were worried when you didn't turn up for dinner, but Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let us into the hospital wing to check on you," Ron said.
"I think she thought we were kidding when we said they were perfectly normal injuries. She thought we were hiding some kind of horrible dark curses from her. Listen, I have to tell you something," Harry said, and quietly told them about Scullion's visit and McGonagall wanting to cancel the match.
"Higgins is under the Imperius curse?" Hermione asked. But Ron interrupted her.
"She can't cancel the match!" Ron said, horrified. "All the Slytherins will think we're backing out because we're scared! No way we can cancel now!"
"I know," Harry said, nodding. "And after all we've trained—well, she just can't, that's all. Anyway, it doesn't make sense. They've known all term that Voldemort was out there—why are they worrying now?"
"Well, until now, there were no attacks anywhere near here, were there?" Hermione said. "They thought that Voldemort was staying away from Dumbledore. But now it turns out he's only been biding his time. Of course they're worried. I thought they might do something like this. When did she say she'd tell you about the game?"
"Before breakfast tomorrow," Harry said. He spotted Eva Gregory, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan headed toward them. "Don't tell the others," he said quickly. "I want everyone to play their best game tomorrow, and there's no sense in worrying them."
Ron nodded just as Eva sat on the arm of his chair.
"We heard what happened," said Eva, looking at Harry with concern. "Are you okay? You'll be good for tomorrow?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Just a little cut, nothing to worry about."
"Where's Ginny?" Dean asked.
"Having a nap," Harry grinned. "She fell asleep as soon as she hit the pillow."
"I'm not surprised," said Dean. "She's always up until the middle of the night."
"Are you all ready for tomorrow?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "Big game. We've got to beat Slytherin."
"Of course we are," said Seamus, grinning in a determined sort of way.
Harry nodded. "Everyone goes to bed in an hour," he said. "We're going to have breakfast together first thing, and I don't want anyone oversleeping."
They nodded, and, grave faced, returned to their own corners of the common room. Harry joined Ron in prodding the quidditch team, both preparing and worrying about the next day, until a quick look at his watch told him that the hour had passed, and he stood and shouted "Team! Bed!"
Of course, Harry couldn't sleep. He put on his pajamas and lay down in bed, but he felt wide awake. He listened to the sound of the rain and the other boys snoring. He couldn't help agonizing about how he'd tell the team the game was cancelled the following morning, and he felt restless and nervous.
When he guessed he must have been lying there for hours, he quietly got up, put on his dressing gown, and went back down to the common room. The miniature quidditch team was still sitting on the table where he and Ron had left it. Harry sat down in front of it. All the players were lying in a heap, snoozing, except for the little Seeker, who was anxiously circling the field, ever searching for the miniscule snitch. Harry watched him go round and round, over and over, until his head began to droop, and he leaned back, dozing in his chair.
"Harry Potter, Sir!"
Harry jerked awake. "Wha—?" he said sleepily. The common room was full of murky gray light, and completely empty save for himself, and the little figure standing on the arm of his chair.
"Dobby!" Harry said, smiling. "How are you?"
"Dobby is doing very well, Sir," said Dobby, smiling. He looked good. He was no longer wearing Hermione's pile of elf-hats, having switched instead to one, giant, floppy straw monstrosity with a plastic daisy sticking out of it. He also had on a child's t-shirt with a picture of an owl on it. "Dobby is worrying about Harry Potter, though. Yesterday, Dobby is hearing that Harry Potter and his friends was attacked by a nasty dark wizard. Dobby is very worried about Harry Potter, sir," Dobby finished in a grave voice.
"I'm fine, Dobby," Harry said. "I was hardly hurt at all."
Dobby's chest swelled with happiness. "Dobby is very happy to hear it, Sir! Dobby wanted to see for himself, of course, so Dobby volunteered to bring Harry Potter this." Dobby lifted his hat, and Harry could see all manner of odd things piled underneath it. There were a number of odd buttons on a string, a few spare socks, a small cleaning brush that had lost half its bristles, a very small bottle with a peeling paper label, and a very small roll of parchment. Dobby pulled out the parchment and held it out to Harry.
"Thanks," Harry said. He unrolled it and read,
"Mr. Potter,
After consulting with the headmaster, we have decided not to cancel or postpone the quidditch match scheduled for today."
"Yes!" Harry said, letting out a sigh of relief. Dobby beamed. Harry kept reading.
"However, security is still a problem. Therefore, we have instituted the following rules, effective until further notice.
1— All quidditch materials and all players' brooms will be inspected before every match.
2— No quidditch games or practices will take place after dark. All games will end one hour before sunset, regardless of whether or not the snitch has been caught.
3— If any player exhibits signs of obvious distress due to magical interference, that player will be immediately pulled from the game, and replaced by a reserve player. If no reserve player is available, the match will end immediately.
Good luck in today's game.
Yours,
Minerva McGonagall."
Harry dropped the letter and sighed.
"Is everything okay, Harry Potter?" Dobby asked, peering nervously into Harry's face.
"Yeah," Harry said. "No. They aren't cancelling the quidditch match, but they're adding a bunch of special rules." It could have been worse, he thought to himself. But it could have been better. Why did he have to go into Hogsmeade yesterday?
"Hey, Dobby, what time is it?" Harry asked suddenly. He'd never gotten around to replacing his watch.
Dobby pulled a pocket watch on a bit of string from inside his t-shirt. "It's almost six o'clock, Harry Potter, Sir!" Dobby said cheerfully.
"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said. "I really appreciate it. How's Winky, by the way?" He added as an afterthought.
Dobby shook his head. "Winky is still drinking very much, Sir," Dobby said. "Dobby is starting to think that Winky should leave Hogwarts and find a new family. But it won't be easy, Sir."
"Oh," Harry said, unsure of how to reply to this. "Well—if there's anything we can do—"
"Oh, thank you, Harry Potter, Sir!" Dobby smiled. "Thank you very much, Sir. And Dobby will tell Winky that Harry Potter asked about her, sir. Winky will be happy to hear that Harry Potter is remembering her."
"See you, Dobby," Harry said as Dobby bowed and hurried out of the room.
Harry dressed, and went down to breakfast ahead of the rest of the team, although Dean and Seamus had already been waking up. To his surprise, he wasn't the only one in the Great Hall.
"Morning, Ginny," he said, sitting down beside her.
"Morning," she said absently, as a blurb of porridge dripped off her spoon. Harry guessed she was just nervous about the upcoming game. He knew he was, and he expected the others would be. As the Gryffindor team slowly drifted in, Harry's suspicions were confirmed. Eva Gregory sat down a few seats away from Harry, looking unusually pale, and spent a solid twenty minutes buttering a piece of toast. Kirke didn't even bother, but just leaned against the table with a terrified look. Dean and Seamus came down together and sat down beside Ginny. Dean ate a few sausages that Ginny pushed onto his plate, and Seamus ate as though he might never get another meal. Harry warned him to slow down a bit, as visions of Seamus being sick outside the pitch floated through his head.
Ron was the only one who didn't seem frightened at the prospect of their first quidditch game as a whole team. He came, a small grin on his face, into the Great Hall, but stopped and groaned before he slipped into the chair between Harry and Eva.
"What?" Eva asked.
"It's pouring outside," he said, looking at the ceiling. "We could've done with a bit of sunshine for our first match. Still—" he said, giving Harry a furtive look, "could've been worse."
"It is worse," Harry said, and told them about the new "security" rules in effect. He finished up with, "Since the game has to end an hour before sunset, and considering the weather, I'd guess that gives us until about four o'clock. That's a solid five hours, but it'll be best if we can get the snitch early on. I'll be aiming for a fast capture, of course, but in this downpour," he nodded toward the ceiling, "it'll be difficult. So it'll be critical that we get plenty of goals and, Ron, you have to stop Slytherin from scoring at all costs. Dean and Seamus—I want you to be vicious with those bludgers. Stop at nothing."
When he finished he realized the rest of the team were staring at him with expressions that stopped just short of horrified disbelief. Harry sighed.
"Look, I know it's far from ideal, but it's nothing we can't manage. We can do this. We know we can do this. Now, you should all eat something—except for you, Seamus. Maybe you should go walk for a while or something."
The Great Hall had filled with students, all chatting excitedly about the first match of the season, wearing their team colors, and toting their umbrellas. Hermione came down, and Ron filled her in on the new rules. Luna even wore her huge lion's head hat again, but this time, she'd found the time to add the snake in the jaws that she'd wanted the last year. Harry laughed out loud when Luna demonstrated the very realistic lion-chewing-on-snake effect she'd conjured up, but he was the only one. Ron gave Harry a look of disgust. Harry shrugged. Hermione politely complimented Luna's creativity.
All too soon, they were heading down to the pitch, Harry feeling decidedly nauseous with his anxiety over the match. His desire to prove himself, his anger about the new rules, and everything else, had combined to make him feel much the same way he'd felt walking into the dragon paddock in his fourth year. The team changed into their robes, their faces pale and full of determination. Harry showed them all how to cast the water-repelling charms on their faces, and they headed up onto the field.
At last, they emerged onto the pitch. The stands erupted with noise as the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws welcomed them onto the field. Harry waved to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was the new commentator now that Lee Jordan had gone. Harry very much doubted the commentating would have the same sort of colorful additions Lee had always provided. They took their positions. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Madame Hooch were inspecting each player's broom, as well as the balls. At last, they nodded their satisfaction, and walked off the field.
Traditionally, the team captains greeted one another at the start of a match. Harry would have much preferred plunging his hand into a barrel full of frog guts over shaking Malfoy's hand, but he reached out obligingly.
"Surprised you even bothered turning up, Potter," Malfoy grinned. "Thought you'd be too afraid of the big, bad dark wizards."
"What, your dad and his chums?" Harry said. "Sorry, Malfoy. Last I heard they were still in prison."
Malfoy jerked his hand away.
The snitch was released. Harry saw it for only a fraction of a second before it was swallowed up by the sheets of silver rain. On Madame Hooch's whistle they kicked off. Harry wanted to watch his team, maybe shouting out encouragement, but he had to stay focused on catching the snitch as quickly as possible. He contented himself with listening to Justin.
"And there they go. That's Slytherin's Warrington in possession—nice to see he's back to normal, wonder if we'll ever find out how he ended up in that toilet—and a solid pass to Adrian Pucey. Pucey headed up the pitch… he's headed for the goals… oh, a nice bit of bludger work by Seamus Finnigan. It's Finnigan's first year on the quidditch team, and he's off to a great start. So, that's Ginny Weasley in possession—Weasley previously played Seeker, of course—and a pass to Eva Gregory… wow! Look at her go! Pass to Kirke—where's he going?"
Harry spun around, squinting his eyes toward the Slytherin side. What was Kirke doing?
"Kirke seems to be running away from the Slytherin keeper—pass back to Gregory—Gregory shoots… Oh, an excellent save by Graham Pritchard! His first year on the Slytherin side as well, he's doing great. That's Warrington in possession again… Malcolm Baddock… Pucey… Warrington… he shoots! An easy block for veteran keeper, Ron Weasley!"
Harry heard an impromptu chorus of "Weasley is our King" break out from the Gryffindor side of the pitch. He smiled.
The game continued in stalemate for quite a while. Both teams had good chasers, but they each had even better keepers. Ron was good, but Graham Pritchard, the new Slytherin keeper, was amazing. He seemed to know every move Ginny and Eva were planning to make beforehand, and always managed to block the ring. Harry, meanwhile, focused his attention on finding the snitch, and tried hard not to spend all his time watching and shouting instructions to his team.
"Come on, Eva!" he yelled encouragingly as she advanced on the Slytherin goals, but Pritchard blocked the ring again. Harry circled the pitch. He was starting to feel quietly alarmed. It was always hard to judge time while playing quidditch, but he guessed that they'd been at it for almost two hours, which meant their time was half-up.
After another half-hour or so, Harry heard a loud roar from the audience. He had been concentrating on the snitch, and not on the game. He strained his ears. "Well done, Gregory, with an excellent assist by Ginny Weasley. Ten points to Gryffindor." Harry let out an excited whoop, and did a celebratory loop.
"Don't get so excited, Potter," Malfoy said, flying nearby. "The sun's starting to go down."
"Fine by me," Harry said. "We're winning. Anyway, I'll have the snitch in a minute." He hoped his voice sounded a bit more confident than he felt.
Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, but was drowned out by another surge of noise.
"Oooh, bad luck, Ron! An excellent score by newcomer Malcolm Baddock! Tie-score, ten-all."
Malfoy smirked and flew away.
Harry redoubled his efforts to find the snitch. His eyes were beginning to burn with the strain. Unfortunately, the heavy rain meant that he could barely see the rest of the team, much less a tiny, distant speck of gold. He circled the pitch. He was all too aware of the sky growing slowly darker. He strained harder, circling. Malfoy was nearby—Harry had his eye on him, just in case Malfoy spotted the snitch first. The intensifying rain spilled, icily into his eyes. He had to find it. He had to find it.
Suddenly, a whistle cut across the game play. Harry jumped. Had Malfoy called a time-out? He looked across, but Malfoy looked just as startled as he was. Madame Hooch was signaling for them to come down. They both dropped to the ground.
"What's going on?" Malfoy demanded. "Who called time-out?"
"Sorry," Madame Hooch said, looking a little irritated herself, "but the game has ended."
"WHAT?" Harry and Malfoy shouted together.
"It's not dark yet!" Harry protested.
"We haven't caught the snitch yet!" Malfoy added.
"Come on, Madame Hooch!" Harry said. "Another thirty minutes. One of us has to at least score first—the game will end in a tie!"
"I know," Madame Hooch said. "But we can barely see you in the rain, and Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster think it best." She sighed, and made a face that clearly said she agreed with them. "Sorry."
Her whistle cut across the field, creating a rippling silence. The only sound was the pounding rain, and the odd "WHACK!" as the bludgers continued to zoom around the field, crashing into things.
"This match is over!" Madame Hooch shouted. "Tie game!"
*************
Reviewer Responses:
Scorpion Lord: We also know that Snape started spying again because in OotP, Snape told Harry it wasn't his job to find out what the Dark Lord was thinking, and Harry said, "No, that's your job isn't it?" Personally, I think it was pretty risky for him to go back...
Hagrid is going to see the giants every day! It's just not really important. If I write a sequal (Harry Potter 7??!) then they would be really critical, so I introduced them, but they aren't that big of a deal to this particular epic, so...
Ahhhh, nice detective work. OK, I'll give you one. Yes, it is important that it was Mira who "found" the ring and brought it back to Harry. Why and how so, I won't say, though. ;)
Kraeg001: I love cliffhangers. Thanks!
KurtCobain444666: Glad you like it! Hope you keep reading.
Janet: I think Harry would have liked to have dueled Higgins, but the others wouldn't have allowed it. Still, Harry will have plenty of chances to prove himself! (plus, Higgins isn't usually a bad guy!)
Bigstu: Glad you've enjoyed it so far. Hope I didn't keep you waiting.
Jbfritz: Thanks! Hope I didn't keep you waiting either!
FireTempest: Whew! Thanks for the support on the Katie front! Hope you enjoyed the new chapter.
Wiccan PussyKat: LOL! Ok, I won't keep you waiting so long anymore. I'll try and keep to weekly updates.
The guardian charm is an interesting one. It has definite possibilities!
Yes, Bill knows something about the ring that Harry doesn't. What that is will be revealed in the fullness of time...
Sorry, no blood everywhere. A little bit of blood, though. Poor Harry, lost a tooth! Losing teeth is about the grossest thing for me...
I promise to do my best to keep the chapters fairly regular. ^_^
Prongs4: Thanks so much! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Godrick Gal: Yeah, what *is* the deal with that ring??!! *wink* I'm so pleased that the suspense is driving you mad! That means I'm doing my job well. Thanks for the congratulations. My nephew is the world's cutest baby.
Sasinak: If I didn't leave it in inconvenient places, how could I be sure that people would come back for the next chapter?
Harry/Hermione 4 ever: I definitely think there's some sexual tension there (show me a pair of 16 year old male/female friends who don't have sexual tension!) but since JKR herself has said that Hermione and Ron have a thing going on, I lean more in that direction. Sorry!