Harry Potter and the Staff of Slytherin

Chapter Three – Unexpected Return

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Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe. If I did, I'd be sitting in my mansion-with-a-bowling-alley counting my money.

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People think I'm insane

Because I am frowning all the time

~ Black Sabbath - Paranoid

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"Harry!" A loud voice called from Ron.

"Mmmhmm?" Harry sighed.

"Get up, Mum and Dad are home!"

Seven and a half minutes later Harry was scrubbed and downstairs facing two red-faced angry Weasleys.

"How could you be so irresponsible, boys?" asked their mother.

"Well, we got drunk and we thought it would be a laugh if we…" Started George with a smirk.

"Don't be so stupid. Harry could have been killed on the trip home!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted.

"So could we!" countered George.

"That's hardly a defence case," sniggered Fred.

"At least they didn't steal a car and fly it there," muttered Author.

"I'll owl Dumbledore immediately to see what to do."

"Can't he stay here?"

"I don't know. It's up to the Headmaster."

"Why?"

"Because…it just is."

Harry's heart sank at the prospect of going back to the Dursley's house for the remainder of the summer. Nevertheless, he had enjoyed his small trip at the Burrow and was glad he came, of course.

They spent the afternoon and evening de-gnoming and playing Quidditch. Harry had also upgraded his Firebolt using the kits he had bought from Diagon Alley.

Dumbledore's response came the next morning. He said that Harry could stay at the Weasley's house for the rest of the week, but then he must go back to Privet Drive until the end of August.

Harry wasn't entirely surprised by this knowledge. In some ways, he was quite glad to have had the news that he had been worrying about for a whole day. He was also glad he had come here at all instead of being at the Dursley's all summer.

Also, he was allowed to go back to the Burrow for his birthday and Arthur had got them tickets to see a Quidditch match. England were playing against France in a European Championship Qualifier. He could not get many tickets so it was only Arthur, Harry, Ron, the twins and Charlie going. Ginny didn't really mind, she didn't really like watching Quidditch as much as playing it.

The game was to be held in London so they were going to do a little bit of shopping before the match started.

Harry had all he needed from the Quidditch Shop but he needed to go to the Robe shop to buy another pair of tracksuit bottoms and he needed to go to the pet store to get a book about Linxas.

Diagon Alley was very crowded that afternoon. Partly because it was a hot day, partly because it was a Saturday afternoon but mostly because there were a lot of people there for the Quidditch match.

Harry wasn't sure whether he could hear more voices speaking in French or English. He recognized a few of the students who were in the Beauxbatons delegations for the Tri-Wizard Tournament but did not know their names.

The pet shop had fewer customers today than on their last visit. Possibly because everyone was here to watch the Quidditch, so they were spending their time in the Quidditch shop or the pub. In fact, Harry was the only customer.

"How can I help you, Mr Potter?" an old lady asked, eyeing his forehead.

"I need a book about Linxas, please."

"I'm sorry. We don't sell books here. However, there are a few aisles in the book shop down Knockturn Alley about animals. There will definitely be books about Linxas there.

He thanked the small old lady and walked out, on his way to the book shop on Diagon Alley instead. He didn't really want to go down Knockturn Alley unless he had no other alternative.

He met up with the Weasleys in the book shop. Ron had forgotten to get one of his books and the twins were looking for some potions books to help with their creations.

The Animal aisle was small and not very useful. There was one small book about snakes and Linxas weren't mentioned at all. He asked the lady at the counter (after she stopped goggling at his forehead) about them and she also told him to go down Knockturn Alley.

Reluctantly, he put up his hood and walked down Knockturn Alley. He didn't want people to find out that he had been in Knockturn Alley. It had a bad reputation for the Dark Arts and the general public were already unsure of Harry's loyalties.

The bookshop was a small, dimly-lit room with several aisles. He made his way to the animal section. He was glad the room was empty, as he could pull his hood down.

There were no books dedicated to Linxas but there was a huge book about snakes entitled 'Our Serpentine Cousins' in which Linxas had about forty pages.

Harry made his way to the counter, weaving between aisles when a book caught his eye. 'Wand less Magical Disguises'. Flicking through it, he discovered that he could learn to change his appearance, repel muggles and wizards, so they'd look away or forget that they'd seen him when he walked past. He could also turn invisible without a cloak.

He bought both books and, pulling his hood up, made his way back.

"Where have you been?" asked Arthur, he looked a little worried. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"I went to the book shop," answered Harry. He wasn't lying – he did go to a bookshop.

"Oh. Must have missed you," he smiled cheerfully.

"Come on, game's about to start!" Called Ron.

They made their way up the hill to the quidditch pitch. There were many other people moving up the hill, though they were going quite early. That way, they could get comfortable before the game started.

"Bugger, why are we always near Malfoy?" Complained Ron.

"Calm down, Ron. He's miles away."

Draco Malfoy was sitting with his mother six rows below them. He looked a bit scruffy and tired. Probably because of his father's prison sentence.

Harry couldn't help but feel guilty about Lucius' imprisonment. He also felt guilty about feeling guilty – as he knew he shouldn't.

"What are you thinking about, Harry?" asked Ron.

"What do you mean?"

"You've got a look on your face like Crabbe and Goyle usually have, that of complete confusion."

"Oh, I was just thinking about my guilt for feeling guilty."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, the game's starting."

And indeed it was. Ludo Bagman was not commentating. Instead, it was a short man with fiery red hair. He was sitting next to a man with jet-black hair and a moustache. Neither looked very happy about the arrangement – it seemed they would be co-commentating this game.

"He's French, the black haired one, and the redhead is English," Mr Weasley informed him, "the English and French ministries were arguing for months about which to choose to commentate, so they chose both."

Harry noticed that the red haired commentator looked a bit like Percy. Must have some Weasley blood in him he thought.

"I am going to take a look around, Harry. I have not seen any of the outside world since my birth," said Sirius.

"Sure. How old are you, anyway?"

"Around 8000 years old. Although I lived in the lake in the place you humans call Hogwarts from when I was born to my capture."

Harry was too stunned at both of these pieces of news to speak, so he gazed thoughtfully at the Linxa as it slithered off, wondering why it didn't just fly.

"And here are the teams flying onto the pitch," said the red haired commentator.

And they sure were, on beautiful brooms, in Harry's opinion.

"What brooms are they using?" Harry asked Ron.

"And both teams have got the new deluxe version of the RPM Ninja," the commentator answered Harry's question unknowingly.

"That's a damn nice broom," commented Harry, gazing upon it. Though he would never part with his beloved Firebolt – a gift from Sirius to him, he would love to get his hands on that RPM.

"Only 750 galleons, Harry," Ron snickered.

"Wow, Weasel, you'd have to sell all of your family and house to get a twig from that broom," laughed Malfoy, who had walked up behind them.

"Bit old, that one is, Malfoy. In fact, you're Dad said it last. How is Daddy, by the way? Enjoying the dementors?" asked Harry.

"You leave my Father out of this, Potter. At least I've got a Father. And mine is twice the wizard yours was before he died, begging at the knees of the-"

But he was cut off, as a bludger had hit him straight in the chest.

"And a bludger has gone off course and straight into a young man in the crowd. It just suddenly changed direction as it was attacking a chaser. How strange."

Harry looked at the bludger; it was lying dormant on Malfoy's chest.

"Good timing," smiled Ron.

"Don't listen to what he said, Harry," said Arthur, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "I'm quite sure your Father didn't beg for mercy."

"Oh I know he didn't – I heard it all because of the dementors in my third year."

"Those Malfoys are all the same. Rich, evil, and butt ugly," Fred laughed

Two medi-wizards ran up the stairs with a stretcher and put Malfoy on it. The bludger rolled off him and as soon as it did, it blasted off straight into the sky again.

The game had continued during this strange occurrence and the score was now England 60 – 0 France. England's chasers were an unbeatable team of tall well-built male triplets. The commentator had earlier said that their surname was Kitchen. They seemed to share telepathy and knew where the others were at any given time.

The French chaser trio consisted of two slight blonde women and a skinny man. They seemed uncoordinated and lost the Quaffle in the rare cases that they got it due to the talented Beaters and Keeper.

"Why weren't England in the World Cup final?" asked Harry, "They're amazing!"

"The seeker is no good. He hasn't caught the snitch for eight games now. They have kept winning because their chasers have been winning by at least 150 points."

Harry looked at the seeker. He was tailing the French seeker around. The French seeker could not see the snitch either so he was going into countless Wronksi Feints and other moves to try and get rid of him.

Harry didn't see the point in tailing the French seeker. He was a very good flier and if they both saw the snitch, the French seeker would doubtlessly get to it first. If he went to the other end of the pitch, at least he would have a 50/50 chance of getting it.

"Stupid git," he mumbled.

"Harry. Your friend with the white head that got attacked by the flying circle hasss recovered." Sirius informed him as he slithered back, weaving through the crowds of spectators.

Harry pondered this sentence before deciding that the white-headed friend was Malfoy and the flying circle was the Bludger that attacked him.

The score was now England 180 – 30 France. France had a penalty, as the seeker had handled the Quaffle, which was disallowed.

"And the French seeker has gone into a dive, has he caught sight of the Snitch or is it another feint?"

He had, indeed, caught sight of the Snitch, and was now holding it above his head in triumph.

"And the game ends as a tie. England 180 – 180 France." The commentator shouted, "The game will be decided by two chasers and the keeper from each time in a short match. No Snitch or Bludgers. First to 30 wins.

Needless to say, England won the short deciding match 30 – 0 and Harry couldn't help feeling a little bit sorry for the dejected French crowds who were walking slowly with their heads down towards the pub.

"They need to replace that seeker," commented Charlie, "They'd win every game if the seeker could catch the Snitch once in a while."

They talked about the game and Quidditch in general on their way home as well as Gryffindor's chances of winning the cup this year. Ron thought that they had a very good chance.

"Yeah, we might have lost nearly all of our players but Gryffindor always win, as it is the best house."

Harry silently disagreed with Ron. He had begun to realise that the stereotypical visions of the other houses weren't correct at all. In previous years, he had never really met anyone who was not in his own house. Also, Malfoy and his Neanderthals were his only Slytherin acquaintances and he hated them. This reinforced his prejudice that all Slytherins were gits.

Over the past year, however, he had met people in the DA meetings from all of the other three houses and they were the same as him, only in a different house.

He did, however, think they had a good chance for winning the cup this year. He was allowed to return as Seeker and the two beaters who had replaced Fred and George in the previous year had improved a lot. Ginny had also claimed one of the remaining Chaser places, though she'd have to try-out like the rest. So they only needed one more Chaser and they would have a full team.

Also Slytherin had lost a beater, keeper and chaser and Ravenclaw had lost two of their chasers and a beater. Hufflepuff were just missing a chaser, though they never had much of a chance anyway.

He found himself in the Weasley's lounge, still pondering their chances.

"What do you think, Harry?" asked Ron.

"I think Ravenclaw have a chance, but Gryffindor will take the cup again, of course."

Ron gave him a strange look. "Harry, we've been talking about the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher for the last ten minutes!"

Harry laughed. "Sorry. Who is it this year?"

"We don't know."

They talked about a variety of subjects for the next few hours before they called it a night and went to bed.

Harry didn't dream that night.

Thankyou to the reviewers.