The Spaces Between Shadow & Night
by: Silver Prophet
the combined talents of:
silverphoenix & poetic licence
Chapter 11
Carpe Diem
His knuckles had gradually been turning white from gripping the toothbrush so hard for so long. Setting it down for a moment, began to rub his aching fingers, watching as the colour slowly returned to them, trying not to listen to Draco.
"Harry, that that prat was a complete and utter bastard to you, to both you and Hermione, and you just want to forgive him?" He stared, gathering his thoughts. "Will wonders never cease? And all this rubbish about luck. Harry, you are an extraordinary wizard. You have proven yourself over and over again, and still you put that down to dumb luck? Let me tell you something," he hissed.
Harry sighed. He couldn't help it. He had heard the 'you're a great person' speech from many people over the years at Hogwarts.
"You are an amazing person. You are loyal and kind and gentle and you make everyone around you want to be a better person, including me. You make a difference just by showing up and you're talented and brave and willing to go out on a limb for the underdog. You make the world a better place, make the people in it want to be better friends or wives or husbands or parents. Don't put yourself down!"
He had never heard it quite like that, though. He raised his eyes, staring at Draco in amazement.
Before Harry could comprehend the situation, he found Draco's lips firmly fastened to his.
Harry sat there in shock, his eyes wide open, and staring at Draco's closed eyelids. Realising Harry wasn't responding, Draco tore himself away, and began to scrub the floor again with his toothbrush, though not before muttering a few well-chosen spells which cleaned the floor.
Filch and Mrs Norris arrived moments later. The caretaker surveyed the bathroom with a disgusted sneer. He clearly didn't believe that Harry and Draco had cleaned it by themselves without magic. His face twisted into a scowl, he dismissed them. "Off with you, then," he spat. "Dumbledore told me not to keep you past twelve."
Harry disposed of his toothbrush as quickly as possible and fled back to Gryffindor Tower.
~~ ~~~ ~~
Sunlight awoke Harry the next morning, and he rubbed his eyes, opening them slowly. He gave a start: someone was stood beside his bed - they had been the one to pull back the curtain around his bed. He reached for his glasses, and upon putting them on realised it was Hermione.
"Out of bed, sleepyhead!" she said cheerfully.
"Am I late for lessons?" asked Harry holding back a yawn. He sat up, stretching his arms above his head.
"No, it's Hogsmeade day. I thought I'd come and wake you."
"Oh."
Hermione frowned. "I was going to go with Alena and Blaise. D'you want to come?" Harry shook his head. "Well, do you want me to buy you anything? Chocolate? Sweets?"
Again, Harry shook his head. "Okay. I'll see you later then," she said casting a last look at Harry before leaving the room quickly, the dull thud of her new black boots (a Christmas present from her parents), breaking the silence in the dormitory.
With a groan, Harry fell back onto his pillow.
The dormitory was empty, save for Harry, and after a few minutes he crawled out of bed and into the bathroom where he ran a hot shower. Hopefully the hot water would wash away any memories of the night before.
~~ ~~~ ~~
"Not going into Hogsmeade, Potter?" Harry looked up from his well-thumbed copy of Hogwarts, a History where he had been reading about the Ravenclaw Riots of 1963.
Matilda slipped into a seat next to Harry in the Gryffindor Common Room. She grinned at him, trying to evoke some sort of response from him. She frowned after getting nothing, and fiddled with the hem of her off-white robes. "Where's Hermione? Abandoned you to be with Seamus, has she?"
"How can you be so happy?" Harry asked, his voice surprisingly cold. "How can you be so happy when you know you're dying?"
Her expression darkened immediately. She spoke firmly to Harry. "I'm not happy, Harry. My total number of suicide attempts stands at eight. I spent half the Christmas holidays at home in my room crying because I knew it was going to be my last Christmas with my family. I'm anything but happy."
"But you act like it's not happening."
Thoughtfully, Matilda licked her lips, and it was then that Harry realised that she looked much paler and thinner than she had done before the Christmas break. She looked almost fragile.
There was a slight cough from the direction of the staircases. Harry and Matilda looked up to see a nervous-looking George Weasley stood there.
Matilda turned back to Harry, a smile once again spreading across her face. "Someone gave me a very good piece of advice once, Harry. That's how I get by. That's how I manage to survive each day with out trying to kill myself."
"What was it?" asked Harry curiously.
She cast a quick glance in George Weasley's direction. "Carpe diem, Harry, carpe diem." She stood up, smoothing down her robes. "I'll see you later, Harry."
She left, quickly followed by George.
~~ ~~~ ~~
Matilda's advice had been confusing. Firstly, Harry didn't understand what it meant. He had an inkling that it was Latin, but without Hermione around, he was rather stuck. Secondly, all of the Gryffindors that Harry asked didn't have a clue either. It didn't help that the only Gryffindors who were around were first and second years.
Deciding to take a walk to clear his head, Harry was surprised when the Fat Lady spoke to him. "You look a bit lost, dear. Are you all right?"
"Oh, um, I suppose."
"Now, now. I can see something's troubling you. What's the matter?"
Harry looked up at the portrait, wondering how exactly she could help with any of his problems. He wasn't exactly going to tell the guardian of the Gryffindor Common Room that he, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was having doubts about his sexuality.
Wait, there was one thing he could ask her. "Do you have any idea what carpe diem means?" he asked.
The Fat Lady arched an eyebrow. She had thought it was something much more serious than that. "It means 'seize the day'. Hmm, you know, I might consider using that for a new password."
Harry smiled. "Thanks."
"My pleasure, dear, my pleasure."
~~ ~~~ ~~
Harry had been sat in the Great Hall eating when he heard his name mentioned. He lowered his head, looking at the floor, hoping he wouldn't be noticed.
He saw three pairs of feet approaching him. The loud clacking noise that he could hear was being created by one of these pairs of feet, which were clad in a pair of high heeled knee-length black boots. The other two pairs were also wearing black boots of some description. The middle pair of legs were also wearing stripy rainbow-coloured socks that peaked out of the lip of the boots. The final pair was most definitely Hermione.
"Hi, Harry," said Hermione, taking a seat opposite the table from Harry. "What've you been doing today?"
"Not much," said Harry, looking up. He saw Blaise roll her eyes at this. "What about you?"
"Shopping!" announced Alena with a grin, dumping a bag on the table, which appeared to be severely weighed down by the amount of items it held.
"Didn't Draco go with you?" asked Harry looking around.
"That prat?" asked Blaise scornfully. "He's probably been up in his dorm sulking all day! We asked him if he wanted to come with us, but he declined." Her eyes narrowed at Harry. "What exactly happened at your detention last night?"
"We scrubbed the floor of the Prefects Bathroom," said Harry simply.
Draco chose this moment to appear. Blaise waved him over, and with a scowl on his pale face, Draco sauntered over to them.
"Had fun burning a hole in Daddy's purse, Blaise?" he asked, eyeing Blaise's shopping. Blaise grinned at him.
"Like always," she said.
They noticed then, that the Great Hall had gone very quiet. Harry looked up at the professors table, but neither Professor Dumbledore nor any of the other professors wanted to make an announcement. All eyes were, instead, turned to a large black owl which had swooped into the Great Hall.
This in itself was unusual, as owls usually delivered their letter's in the morning during breakfast.
The owl was clutching a black envelope in its talons, and the silence seemed to grow more and more tense as the owl circled lower and lower over the Ravenclaw table, trying to find the person to deliver the letter to.
Harry looked at Hermione. "What is it?" he mouthed. To his surprise, Hermione shrugged.
"It's a Mourner," Blaise whispered in horror, as the owl swooped lower and lower.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked quietly, as the owl began to slow.
"It mean someone's died," said Draco in hushed tones, as the owl dropped the letter into the lap of a very white-faced Cho Chang.
Hermione clasped a hand to her mouth. "Poor, Cho," she gasped in disbelief as the Ravenclaw Seeker stared at the envelope in shock, before running out of the Great Hall, closely followed by her friends.
Alena shook her head in sorrow, the bright pink streak in her hair looking, for once, rather odd. "I wouldn't wish that upon anyone."
"It was Voldemort," said Harry in a shaking voice. He was immediately aware of four pairs of eyes upon him. "He's started killing Wizards."
~~ ~~~ ~~
The news that Death Eaters has probably killed a student's parents rocked Hogwarts. The school seemed rather subdued for several days afterwards: the Muggleborn populus of Hogwarts had already been edgy, but now those of Wizarding parentage were just as anxious.
The Gryffindor Common Room was strangely quiet, the sounds of various games of chess and the almost-rhythmic scratching of quills punctuating the silence.
When an owl tapped at the window, a couple of first year girls fled in tears to their dormitory, dreading another attack. A third year let the owl in. It looked very familiar, decided Harry, and when it crashed into a chair instead of landing on it, Harry realised he did know this owl.
Errol.
The Weasley family's owl. And the envelope was red. A Howler.
The third year student gingerly picked up Errol, and passed the envelope, which was beginning to smoke, to Ginny who had also rushed over.
Smirking slightly, Ginny announced that the Howler was for George, who paled considerably as his sister threw the envelope to him. He winced, and, gritting his teeth, opened the envelope. Molly Weasley's angry voice filled the Common Room, making everyone looking up from what they were doing.
"GEORGE WEASLEY! HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THING? I KNOW YOU AND YOUR BROTHER HAVE A REPUTATION AT HOGWARTS, BUT I NEVER EXPECTED YOU TO DO SOMETHING AS UTTERLY OUTRAGEOUS AS THIS."
George had his head in his hands now, though Fred was looking at his brother with a look which meant he didn't have a clue what was going on.
"I WOULD HAVE EXPECTED THIS SORT OF THING FROM FRED, BUT NOT FROM YOU!"
Fred gaped indignantly at this.
"NOT ONLY DID YOU DIRECTLY DISOBEY HOGWARTS RULES BY NOT GOING TO HOGSMEADE, BUT TO GO AND GET MARRIED OF ALL THINGS. WITHOUT EVEN TALKING TO US! WE'VE NEVER EVEN MET THIS GIRL. I KNOW YOUR FATHER HAS A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THIS AND YOU SHOULD EXPECT A LETTER FROM HIM ANY TIME NOW, GEORGE WEASLEY."
Mrs Weasley's voice softened then. "OH, AND WELCOME TO THE FAMILY, MATILDA, DEAR."
The Howler burst into flames then and crumpled into ashes, and it was at that moment that the occupants of the Common Room realised that a thin-lipped Professor McGonagall was standing by the portrait hold. "I suggest that George and Matilda come with me. Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak to them."
~~ ~~~ ~~
He knew it would happen eventually and there was no way around it.
Sat across the table from, staring at the hideously patterned tablecloth, was Ron Weasley.
"Have you seen anything yet?" asked Harry quietly, glancing at the crystal ball which was sat on the table. According to Professor Trelawney it was a well-documented theory that all Wizards had at least some ability to See. And, she had added, for a class as talented as hers, studying the crystal balls once more should be no problem.
"What do you think?" grumbled Ron, not looking up at Harry, though switching his gaze to the orb. After a few more minutes of tense silence, Ron finally looked up at Harry.
"Why are you doing this?" he demanded.
Harry's brow furrowed. "What are you on about?" he asked. "Trelawney told us to..."
"Not that." Ron was practically spat his next words out. "Being friends with that Slytherin."
"His name is Draco," said Harry, quite unruffled by this.
"Oh, puh-lease. What's he doing? Is he blackmailing you? Cursing you? What? I can't for one minute fathom why someone like you would want to be friends with someone like him."
The green-eyed boy blinked. "And I can't understand how on Earth I was friends with someone like you for so long." He licked his lips, feeling that familiar feeling of anger begin to boil inside him. Until this point he had believed that he had wanted to be friends with Ron again, but this conversation was like rubbing salt into their wounded relationship.
Ron scowled. "Harry, he's changed you. We were best friends. We still could be. I'm willing to bury the hatchet if you are..."
"I'm not." Harry's tone was icy, a stark contrast to the fire of rage he could feel building up. "I see no reason for us to reinstate our friendship. You are the one who went off on one when I started showing anything but hate towards Draco and Alena, you are the one who showed no interest in my life whatsoever, and you are the one who practically killed Shilya."
"It's just a snake!" Ron's face was red with anger, his fiery temper flaring up. "It's just a fucking snake!"
Harry stood up quickly, practically seething, and nearly knocking the crystal ball to the floor. Luckily Seamus, who had been sat at the next table caught it, showing exactly why he had been picked as Keeper instead of Ron. He shook his head as he spoke: "She is not just a 'fucking snake'," he hissed, his voice low. "Shilya has been more of a friend to me than you have, Ronald Weasley." Harry stooped down, picking up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and then snatching his crystal ball from Seamus's hands, who looked surprised at Harry sudden actions.
Aware that he was being watched in complete silence by the rest of his Divination class, including Professor Trelawney who had a strange knowing look in her eyes (magnified, of course, by her large glasses), Harry proceeded to kick open the door and descend down the silvery ladder without looking back.
Barely comprehending the scenario which had just happened, Harry found himself outside the Arithmancy classroom, where Professor Vector's shrill voice could be heard from within. Feeling suddenly drained, Harry sat down on the floor outside the door, resting his head against the stone wall.
When the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, the fifth year students who emerged barely seemed to notice Harry, and if they did, they chose to ignore him. One of the number one unspoken rules at Hogwarts among the students was not to do anything which might upset Harry Potter or one of his friends.
The last two students to exit the room were Hermione and Draco, who were seemingly comparing their notes on the lesson. They stopped dead when they spotted Harry. Hermione crouched down beside him, looking anxious. "Are you all right, Harry? Is something wrong?"
"Oh, nothing," said Harry, looking up at his worried brown eyes. Behind her, Harry could see that Draco, too, looked concerned. "I just yelled at Ron and stormed out of Divination. Nothing unusual there, then."
Hermione looked slightly impressed at this. Harry wasn't sure, however, whether this was because Harry had yelled at Ron or because he had walked out of Divination. She stood up straight and held out a hand to Harry, and helped him to his feet. "Fancy going to get some lunch?" she asked brightly, seemingly able to tell Harry did not want to discuss the matter.
Harry nodded, then mutely followed Hermione and Draco to the Great Hall. They were still discussing their Arithmancy lesson, which, from what Harry could tell, had involved turning their birth date into a spell of some sort.
Their fairly bright conversation came to a halt when the looming figure of Ron Weasley appeared in front of them, a dark expression on his freckled face.
"Harry," he said earnestly, not looking at Hermione and Draco, "I know you didn't mean what you said in Divination. I did, though, and I am willing to be friends again."
"I meant what I said," Harry told him flatly. "Now would you kindly step aside so we can pass."
Ron glanced at Hermione and Draco, as if he had only just realised they were there. Hermione looked simply murderous, while Draco wore a blank expression. "Harry," he repeated. "Please reconsider this..."
"Why should I? You..."
"Ron," Hermione interrupted, "Harry is clearly too polite to tell you this, but I'm not: fuck off."
"I wasn't speaking to you," Ron told her hotly.
"Since when has that ever stopped her?" commented Draco.
"Keep your stuck-up nose out of this, Malfoy," snarled Ron, and Harry could see his knuckles beginning to turn white because he was clenching his fists so hard. "You have no business in this conversation."
"Yes, he does," Hermione said.
"Neither do you, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. Why don't you run along to your precious books or your little boyfriend?" Ron taunted.
Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. "What did you just say?" she asked.
"That's right. Perfect Hermione Granger. Prefect Hermione Granger, top of the year and a Quidditch player boyfriend. You seem to have a thing for Quidditch players, don't you? Would you be snogging me if I'd made the team, huh?"
Ron had already hit the corridor wall by the time he realised Hermione had screamed a curse at him.
"Well, well, well. I think someone might be in trouble." Professor's Snape's voice sounded particularly vindictive. The Potion's Master stepped out in front of Harry, Draco and Hermione. Obviously he had seen the entire spectacle, and his lips were now twisted into a smug smile. He turned sharply to Ron. "Weasley, get yourself to the Hospital Wing." Ron scrambled to his feet and was gone, clutching his arm in agony before Snape could say anything else.
"And you three." He studied the Slytherin and the two Gryffindors . "My office now."
"I'd rather it that they came to my office, Severus." Professor Dumbledore had now appeared. Harry was beginning to wonder if any of the other professors were going to turn up and tell them that they wanted to see them in their office.
Professor Snape looked less than please about this, but gave Dumbledore a curt nod. "Yes, Headmaster."
In Dumbledore's office, the Headmaster invited the three of them to sit down. Fawkes, who had been sat on his perch, landed on Harry's arm. His weight was rather reassuring, though Harry had to admit the bird was looked rather bedraggled. Thinking back to the last time Harry had seen the phoenix in this condition, Harry decided it must be nearing burning day.
"I do not expect students such as yourselves to conduct oneself in such a manner," said Dumbledore gravely. "And I certainly did not expect a potential Head Girl such as yourself to behave in such a way, Miss Granger."
Hermione lowered her eyes to her shoes, not wanting to see the Headmaster's piecing blue gaze. "I was provoked, sir."
"I realise that, Miss Granger, but one needs to keep a cool head in situations that arise."
"I know, sir."
"Hmmm. You broke Mr Weasley's arm in three places. Things like this cannot be so easily overlooked. Therefore I am revoking your Prefect duties and the privileges which go with them for one week." Hermione nodded morosely. She obviously agreed with Dumbledore's decision; if she hadn't, she would have been protesting.
"May we go now, sir?" asked Harry.
"Not yet, Harry. Now, Professor McGonagall has expressed her... dislike for the friendship that has been forged between the three of your and Miss Rhyson. Professor Snape has briefly mentioned his concerns, but they are not in the same degree of Professor McGonagall's. While I admit that it is extremely unconventional, I see nothing wrong with it and will not be telling you to break off your friendship. Ties like yours, between the houses, are needed in times like these, and while your respective houses have never been, and will never be, great friends, alliances can be very helpful."
Harry wasn't exactly sure what Dumbledore was saying. From the looks on Draco and Hermione's faces, they didn't either. From what Harry could gather, Dumbledore was telling them that it was perfectly all right for them to be friends, regardless of McGonagall's concerns.
"Is that all, Professor Dumbledore?" asked Draco.
Dumbledore studied the three of them for a moment longer, before nodding sagely. "Yes, Mr Malfoy. The three of you are excused. I suggest you head down to the Great Hall - I hear the House Elves have prepared a particularly nice treacle tart for pudding today."
~~ ~~~ ~~
The familiar sound of Hermione's eagle feather quill could be heard scratching away. It was an almost soothing sound in the quietness in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was nearly midnight, and the two of them were the only people still awake, the last pair of seventh years having retired to bed nearly an hour beforehand. When the scratching stopped, Harry looked up from his book. "Something wrong?" he asked Hermione, who was peering into her ink bottle, a frown on her face.
"I've run out of ink," she said, rummaging in her bag. She looked hopefully up at Harry. "Do you have a spare bottle? I don't have any with me."
"Uh, yeah, I think there's one in my bag," Harry told her.
Hermione looked around helplessly. "Um, Harry, where is your bag?"
"Oh - it's over there." Harry pointed at his battered book bag which was lying on the other side of the Common Room.
With a groan Hermione crossed the room. "What's it doing all the way over here?" shed asked, picking it up and walking back to her seat, picking things out as she did so. Rummaging deeper, she pulled out Harry's crystal ball, which was still in his bag from after Divination. "Honestly, Harry, you..."
She stopped dead, staring at the crystal ball.
"Hermione?" asked Harry, closing his book. "Hermi?"
Suddenly, Hermione dropped the crystal ball with a yell. It seemed to fall in slow motion, shattering into hundreds of shards when it hit the floor. Hermione was staring in horror at her hand which had been holding the ball, and Harry could see her visibly shaking.
She didn't even seem to notice the large shard of glass protruding from her bare foot.
Slipping his shoes on quickly, Harry was by her side in seconds. He put an arm around her: she looked as though she could fall over at any moment. He helped her into a chair.
"Hermione, what happened?"
She didn't answer, instead staring into space, still shaking.
"Hermione!" Harry snapped.
She blinked. "I... I saw..."
"You saw something?"
Hermione nodded mutely, her brown eyes wide.
"What was it?"
"V... Vo..."
"Voldemort?" asked Harry, his heart seeming to catch in his throat. Again, Hermione nodded mutely.
"Right," said Harry," quickly taking control. "We're going to take you to the Hospital Wing and go and see Professor Dumbledore."
Madam Pomfrey didn't seem best pleased to have two students visit her at nearly midnight, but, with her hair in rollers, she healed Hermione's foot in a matter of minutes using an odd-smelling ointment that smelt very similar to violets.
Professor Dumbledore was also awake when they went to his office, though Harry wasn't entirely sure if he was in his robes or elaborately decorated dressing gown. After Harry tried explaining the situation to him, Professor Dumbledore turned to Hermione, who still hadn't spoken.
"Miss Granger, please do try and say something. We're all getting rather worried about you."
Hermione licked her lips, though instead of turning to look at Dumbledore, she looked at Harry and Harry couldn't help but notice a hardness in her brown eyes he'd never seen before. "How do you do it?" She spoke in barely more than a whisper, as though she had lost the use of her voice.
"Do what, Hermione?"
"How do you see these horrible things all the time and still be the person you are?"
Harry considered this. "I think I am the person I am because I see those things."
"That's very true, Harry," said Dumbledore softly. "Imagine what you'd be like as a person if you hadn't come to Hogwarts, or if you hadn't been the Boy Who Lived."
Inwardly, Harry groaned. This was another thought he could add to the chaos that was his mind to be reflected on at some point. An internal filing system would come in handy right about now.
"Professor," said Hermione, her voice much steadier now. "Is there any way that I can forget this? I know there are potions and..."
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore's blue gaze turned steely now, "I think it would be wise if we didn't relieve you of these memories. Perhaps tomorrow you could tell me what you Saw."
"No!" Hermione sounded almost panicked. "I'll tell you now."
She began to speak, and Harry realised that he had never heard her speak quite like this. There was a her lecturing voice, her stubborn voice, her walking-textbook voice and her scared voice. But this was different. This was what Harry came to dub her 'story-telling voice'.
"There were three people, sat in a living room. Clearly it was a Wizarding household as the photographs were all moving. Photographs covered almost an entire wall, showing pictures and treasured memories of the family. There was nothing out of the ordinary: they were a very normal family, just talking about their days at work."
"And then it happened: four 'pop's' and the Death Eaters were there; three of them and Voldemort. The youngest, a girl, started to scream. She was grabbed by the nearest Death Eater. He pinned her against a wall." Hermione gave a visible shudder here. "He did things to her while the others were... tortured. They seemed to be interrogating them. It finished quite suddenly, as abruptly as it had begun. It was like a switch was flipped and they were dead."
"Thank you, Miss Granger," said Professor Dumbledore, standing up. "Now, I suggest the two of you go back to Gryffindor Tower. If you wish you can be excused from your lessons tomorrow."
Hermione spoke for the both of them. "No thank you, Professor. I don't want to dwell on it."
"Very well. Good night Harry, Hermione."
~~ ~~~ ~~
Harry was interrupted from his last minute studies (he had discovered that reading before Quidditch matches was actually rather relaxing), by a pile of scarlet cloth being dumped beside him. He looked up at see Seamus, already wearing his Quidditch uniform smiling brightly at him.
"What're these?" asked Harry, prodding the pile with his quill.
"It's a new Quidditch uniform for you. Angelina's says yours is getting a bit small."
"Oh, thanks."
"No problem. Are you nervous? Gryffindor versus Slytherin?"
"Why should I be?"
"Well," Seamus seemed a little uneasy. "You're kind of friends with Malfoy now. Last time you played Slytherin you were in third year and hated him."
"Hmmm. Hey, have you seen Hermione?"
"Nope. I thought she was with you."
"McGonagall wanted to see her." Matilda appeared behind Seamus, with what Harry recognised as Hermione's Gryffindor scarf wrapped around her neck - Hermione had charmed it so that the red stripes changed to bright pink every few minutes, seeing as the pink potion Draco had spilled was permanent.
"What for?" asked Seamus, clearly concerned.
Matilda shrugged. "I dunno. I reckon it's got something to do with Lee, though."
"Lee Jordan? What about him?" asked Harry. Lee Jordan was, of course, another Gryffindor seventh year. He was a friend of the Weasley twins, and rather infamous for his Quidditch commentary.
There was a smirk on Matilda's behalf. "Got hold of some of Fred and George's enchanted sweets, didn't he? Not only has he got a four-foot long tongue, bright blue hair and yellow skin, but there's the most horrible aniseed smell around him." She shuddered. "I can't stand aniseed," she elaborated. She changed her tone. "Come on, you two, Angelina wants you down on the pitch."
After Angelina's pre-match talk in the changing rooms (thirteen minutes - her personal record), the Gryffindor team trooped out onto the pitch. The Slytherins were already warming up, and Harry spotted Draco flying up near the Slytherin goalposts.
The team mounted their brooms waiting for Madam Hooch to start the game.
Harry was most amused when he heard who was doing the Quidditch announcing.
"Welcome to Slytherin versus Gryffindor!"
"I think you'll find that's Gryffindor versus Slytherin," interjected a second voice.
"Does it really matter?"
"Well, it's alphabetical."
"Sure. Well anyway, welcome to the match everyone. I am Alena Rhyson and this is Hermione Granger. I will warn you now that Hermione knows diddlysquat about Quidditch."
"And Alena knows diddlysquat in general." At this point Harry could imagine Alena sticking her tongue out at Hermione, and Hermione smirking.
"Anyway," continued Alena. "We're going to be commentating as Lee Jordan managed to get hold of some enchanted sweets."
There was a ripple of laughter from those in the crowd who had witnessed the events.
"Alena, we should probably get on with the commentary," pointed out Hermione, and Harry couldn't help but agree. This was going to be interesting. "Madam Hooch is... waiting for us to stop talking. Okay, now both teams are in the air and... they're off!"
"Gryffindor Captain, Angelina Johnson, has the Quaffle and... the Quaffle is knocked out of her hands by Slytherin Chaser Ricardo Leverett."
"Looks like he's been working out since the last Slytherin match," commented Hermione airily.
"Oh, he has!" said Alena. "He's got a great set of abs!"
"Miss Rhyson..." Professor McGonagall didn't sound so much angry as amused.
"Oh, right. Anyway, Slytherin score, blah blah blah. Oh!" Alena seemed to wince. "That had to hurt - Gryffindor Keeper Seamus Finnigan is knocked out by a Bludger!"
"Oh no!"
"Don't worry, Hermi," Alena reassured her, "I'm sure you'll get him back in one piece."
Harry swore under his breath. Madam Pomfrey was already attending to Seamus's injuries, as he was being carried off on a stretcher. It looked like his arm was broken. Now Gryffindor were minus their Keeper, making the job of the Slytherin Chasers a lot easier.
"Katie Bell of Gryffindor has the Quaffle now, and she's heading back down the pitch..."
"It looks like the Gryffindor Beaters, Fred and George Weasley, are waging their attack on the Slytherin Keeper," Hermione interrupted, as the Slytherin Keeper got a Bludger to the ribs.
They're trying to even the score, realised Harry, scanning the skies for the Snitch. He spotted Draco doing the same thing at the opposite end of the pitch. From Hermione's enthusiastic shouting, he had the feeling that Gryffindor had just scored.
The Snitch was nowhere in sight. There wasn't even a slight gleam from anywhere. Instinctively, Harry swung underneath his broom, a second before a Bludger would have decapitated him. Righting himself, he continued his search for the Snitch, flying in ever-increasing circles.
There was a cheer from the Gryffindor stands as Alicia Spinnet scored another goal for Gryffindor. Harry spotted Matlida cheering on the team (or perhaps just George) easily - her flashing pink scarf was easily distinguishable from the rest of the crowd.
"And I think that Slytherin Seeker, Draco Malfoy has spotted the Snitch!" Alena's voice sounded excited as it blasted across the stadium. There was a momentary hush across the stands as the spectators stopped their cheering to watch with baited breath as Draco went into a steep dive, not even caring that Gryffindor had scored once again.
Harry's eyes widened in astonishment and he went into auto-Seeker mode in an attempt to catch the Snitch before Draco. It took him a second to realise that there was no Snitch - the shining golden-winged ball was just metres from him and in a completely different place than where Draco was headed.
Wronski Feint, thought Harry. Not bad. In an almost leisurely movement, Harry put on a burst of speed and plucked the Snitch from the air, it's delicate wings beating helplessly against his fingers. Victorious, Harry raised it above his head, grinning as he did so.
"And Potter has caught the Snitch for Gryffindor!" Harry could imagine Hermione almost jumping out of her seat. "It looks like Malfoy's Wronski Feint was in vain - Gryffindor win! 190 - 20! The match is over!"
Harry didn't know what he was more impressed with - Hermione's correct use of Quidditch terminology or Alena not swearing aloud, although he did hear a loud grumble from the commentary box. He didn't have much chance to think of anything else as the rest of the Gryffindor team descended on him: if they won their next match by at least fifty points they were a dead cert for the Quidditch Cup.
~~ ~~~ ~~
Harry had already been in the kitchens for an hour. The House Elves were busy scurrying around him, preparing food for the following day and washing up the plates and cutlery from the evening meal.
In front of Harry was the remains of a piece of chocolate cake, and in a bowl was a very gloopy concoction which had once been a rich chocolate ice cream.
"You know, if you eat to much chocolate you'll get spots," a voice broke into Harry's thoughts. Harry looked up to see Draco stood across the table from him. "That's what Blaise and Alena say."
Harry spooned up some of the ice cream and tipped his spoon so that it fell back into the bowl with a plop. "Hermione says it's comfort food."
"So do Blaise and Alena. Must be a girl thing." Draco sat next to Harry as Harry finished off his ice cream with a couple of large spoonfuls. "So is it comforting?" asked Draco.
The Gryffindor shrugged. "I suppose."
"Harry, can we talk?"
"I though that's what we're doing."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Harry, we need to discuss our friendship. I mean, is all the hassle worth it?"
Looking into his now-empty bowl, the green-eyed boy blinked. He looked up at his comrade. Have his eyes always been that grey? Harry pondered.
"What is there to discuss?"
"In case you haven't noticed Harry, we happen to have kissed a few times..."
"You kissed me," interrupted Harry.
"You kissed me first!" shot back Draco.
Harry couldn't help but grin at this. Draco grinned as well. The tension between them was gone. Looking deeper into the blond-haired Slytherin's eyes, Harry came to sudden realisation. "I was given a very good piece of advice the other day," he said, his voice coming out close to a whisper.
Draco's eyebrows rose. "What was it?" he asked.
"Carpe diem," whispered Harry, before leaning over hurriedly and crushing his lips against Draco's.
~~ ~~~ ~~
TBC
~~ ~~~ ~~
Natasha's Notes:
Oooh. What's going to happen next? Erm... I'm not sure, actually. Draco's up next - which means that it's Amy's turn. I enjoyed writing that - well, the Quidditch scene was a little difficult, but I think I pulled it off. Plus, angry!Hermione is fun to write, as is Matilda in general. Speaking of Matilda, check out the Shadows Journals - http://www.livejournal.com/~shadow_journals - where you can read the diaries of Matilda, Alena and Hermione.
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Thank You's:
Lady - Sheron - Blackice - hahah. - chrisseee667 - punkpixie87 - Sheron - Kouji - and anyone else who I have forgotten in a moment of stupidity.