Sorry, sorry, sorry about how late this is. I was lacking inspiration. And ideas. The good news is that I'm all caught up on Algebra. Heh. Anyways, I'm really, really sorry about the update lapse. Really.

Anyway: Chapter 21: Quidditch and Quirrell

"Headmaster," Severus slid silently into the office of his superior. "Albus?"

The room was empty. "Albus?" he repeated. He wanted to ask about Harry, but he hadn't seen the Professor since their talk a few days ago. The Headmaster of Hogwarts was Absent Without Leave, totally and completely Missing In Action. None of the other Professors had seen him either.

Snape arched a brow and looked around the office, retreating into the hidden stairwell. He shook his head. "Curiouser and curiouser," he muttered, repeating the cliched phrase. With one last look, he returned to his classroom to prepare for upcoming classes.

"Ron talk to Hermione yet?"

"Of course," Vanella responded, solemnly eating her Saturday morning breakfast. "She understands. She's even decided to forgive me—" Vanella said in a mocking, sarcastic tone, "out of the goodness of her heart."

Harry rolled his eyes and left the Slytherin table, off to prepare for his first Quidditch game. The night before Severus had taken him off school grounds to Diagon Alley to get a broom, and Harry bought a new Nimbus Two Thousand for the Quidditch season. Harry figured it would help him play the game. Faster than all the school brooms, it definitely gave advantage.

Slytherins versus Gryffindors. This ought to be a treat.

Harry wasn't really listening while the announcer, Lee Jordan, called off the names of the two Quidditch teams' players. He was a bit more focussed on the quantity of the crowd. Consisting of Slytherins and Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, it was filling the large stadium to the brink of explosion. And all of them were yelling and cheering.

On one side were the scarlet-clad Gryffindor-supporters, opposed to the green-clad Slytherin supporters on the other side. And, filling the glass box above the stadium, the teachers sat supporting their house of choice.

Looking around at the other players, Harry recognized few. Two on the Gryffindor team were the Weasley twins, Harry knew. Fred and George, the school clowns, the beaters for Gryffindor. The Gryffindor team captain, Oliver Wood, the keeper. He knew the Slytherin team captain, Marcus Flint, who had tutored Harry on how to play Quidditch, and Adrian Pucey, who had been kinder to Harry than the rest of the team.

The only one he didn't recognize from around the school was the Gryffindor seeker. Asian, she looked to be either a first or second year.

She was staring at him with a cold, contemplative look. Harry met her stare easily, not wanting enemies.

Harry was startled back into reality by Madame Hooch's voice. She was pacing in between the two groups, saying, "Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you." She seemed to be talking more to Marcus Flint than any of the other players.

"Mount your brooms," she commanded.

Harry mounted his new Nimbus Two Thousand.

Hooch blew her whistle.

Seven Slytherins and seven Gryffindors flew quickly into the air, two rising higher than the others did.

Harry and the Gryffindor seeker were scouting the stadium, looking for the small, quick-flying Snitch.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is; and she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by the Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle – that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head with a Bludger – Quaffle taken by the Slytherins – that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goal posts are ahead – come on now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

The Gryffindors' cheers were half-drowned out by the Slytherins' moans, including Harry's up above the playing field. Harry was half-scouting for the Snitch and half-watching the game.

In the stands, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and Vanella Incendie were sitting together. Two were cheering for Gryffindor and two were cheering for Slytherins, but all were keeping an eye on Harry.

Vanella leaned over and asked Draco the question on all their minds: "What is Harry doing?"

Draco was squinting to see the Slytherin Seeker while shaking his head. "I don't know."

Harry was up in the air on his broom, but his broom appeared to be trying to buck him off.

Ron was watching him by now, too. "Nimbus Two Thousands don't just try to buck their riders off like that. There's something wrong."

Next to him, Hermione nodded. "Looks like a hex. I've read all about hexes. Look around the stands for someone who isn't breaking eye contact with him."

Vanella shook her head, rolling the Sapphire eyes. "Like that'll work. Look around! Everyone's watching now, and no one will take their eyes off him."

Draco and Ron nodded their quiet agreement, watching Harry fly around the field, completely uncontrolled.

Suddenly Hermione elbowed Ron. "Look at Quirrell and Snape. One is cursing, and the other is counter-cursing."

All four began watching the two Professors. Both were watching Harry closely, no blinking, muttering under their breath.

Vanella frowned. "One of us has to do something."

Hermione smirked evilly. "Leave it to me." She got up quickly and headed to the top box.

The girl sprinted hurriedly up the stairs to the clear box, drawing attention to herself from the crowd. She pushed through the door of the room, yelling,

"Professors!"

All but two Professors looked over at her, including Lee Jordan from the microphone at the front. She rushed over to Professor Quirrell and stood in front of him, successfully blocking Harry and the game from his sight.

"What?" he snarled, no trace of stutter.

She shuffled nervously, trying to scrape an explanation out of the jumbled thoughts going through her mind.

"Er… can I get extra credit in your class?" she stammered.

In the stadium, Harry floated to the ground, coughing and sputtering. Choking.

Madame Hooch rushed over just in time to see him cough up a golden, glittering ball.

With a shaky step, Harry said, "I got the Snitch."

Cheers filled the arena just in time for Harry to hear them before he fainted.

"He didn't catch it! He choked on it! He almost swallowed it, for Merlin's sake! It was dumb luck! No skill involved at that at all!"

Wood was complaining to Madame Hooch rather loudly about the Slytherin winning method, while Madame Pomfrey was levitating Harry to the Hospital Wing.

All the Professors had their feet on the ground by now, and a few were reproofing Hermione for her burst into the top box. Quirrell and Snape just stood there scowling, sending occasional cold glances at one another.

Draco and Ron were trying to worry for Harry and laugh at Hermione at the same time, failing miserably at keeping solemn composure.

That night, Madame Pomfrey insisted that Harry stay in the Hospital Wing, even though he fainted because of lack of oxygen for too long and the recovery was quick. She said it was a mere precaution, and he'd be fine for release the next morning.

Harry was sleeping and didn't hear anyone enter late at night. All the lights were off and even Madame Pomfrey was off somewhere else, sleeping.

The black-clothed figure moved swiftly towards the bed where Harry lay. Standing over the boy, the man smirked.

"So easy," the man whispered cruelly, in a voice so unlike his usual one, dragging a pale finger down Harry's cheek.

Harry cringed in his sleep, feeling the pain even while unconscious.

The creature standing over him sneered. "Pitiful." He began to reach into the folds of his robes, searching.

"Don't even," came a voice from a corner.

"I've filed the papers already, Quirrell. From now on you're banned from the school's property. I can't let you stay. The students are starting to suspect about your loyalties. Terribly sorry."

"Dumbledore," Quirrell hissed. "Of course. I'll pack my things and be gone."

"Don't bother trying to go after the Stone tonight. I'm watching it until you leave."

Quirrell was, by now, shaking with restrained anger. "Why would I go after the Stone, Headmaster? I'm helping guard it, am I not?"

"Of course you are. I'm just stating in case you needed to know."

"I bet." Quirrell left quickly, headed off to his rooms to pack his belongings.

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and the lights came on. He walked calmly up to Harry's bedside, bright blue eyes dulled with fatigue.

He shook his head sadly, staring at the boy stretched out on the bed.

"Sleep well, Harry. It'll be better in the morning."

Albus patted Harry's hand and silently left the Hospital Wing, snapping off the lights in the process.

Author's Note: Once again, sorry it was so late. I was suffering from lack of inspiration, but I'm all set now. I was coerced into sitting down and just typing, so now I'm done with Chapter 21, even if it was slow-going.

No Translations; Six Reviews:

Black Sparrow: Yep. But that was almost four weeks ago, sorry. I'm glad Harry knows, too, and I'm guessing that's why I made him find out. Yea, Dumbledore knows; it says so in one of the earlier chapters, when she goes to see him after torturing Hermione. I love Dumbledore, he's the funniest.

shirriez: Interesting, yea. No, I made it all up. I figured that Vanella needed to talk to somebody about her history, and who better than Harry Potter? Dumbledore is by far my favorite character. I love Dumbledore. He's great. He's omniscient. Thank you! (Even though that was almost a month ago. Sorry again!)

ReflectionsOfReality: I'm very good at rambling. I've years and years of practice. Anyway: I haven't gotten around to reading anything lately. I haven't even been writing, which is odd. I plan on reading the recommended stories ASAP, though. And, again, sorry for the late, late, update.

starangel2106: Yea, and I know the keys (two years of suffering through computer classes got me that much), so I'm all set, except for when my keys don't want to work, which seems to be happening lately. Ah, oh, well. Eek, sorry about how long this took. It was forever, I know, but I just couldn't seem to get myself to just sit and write. Yea, school will be over soon (can't wait!) which is very, very good. Heh, yea, too bad I lapsed a bit after 20. That's alright, though, I'm back in the swing of things now (I hope!).

Hakai – Gojyo – Goku – Sanzo: Yea, that's the plan. They both need some good friends. Here's more! Not soon, but it's here finally.

Kayla Summers: Ah, here's the very long awaited update. Harry goes down the trapdoor soon. Severus will play a much bigger part soon, don't worry.

Lee Jordan's commentation during the Quidditch game was all taken from the book (that really big paragraph that is all one sentence). Don't sue me for plagiarism, I'm saying flat-out that it all comes from the book, and the only reason it's not quoted is because it's in the middle of my chapter.

I know, this could have been longer, but I wanted you all to know that I was still alive and capable of typing. I hope to have Harry go down the trapdoor soon, but with Quirrell exiled from Hogwarts I need a plan…. I think I've got it, though, so hopefully the next chapter won't take nearly as long as this one did.

Good morning/day/afternoon/night and I'm off to type C22!