After the Dawn: The Philosopher's Stone
Chapter Eleven: Quidditch
As November's icy breath chilled Hogwarts and the surrounding country-side, Harry found himself practicing harder and harder for Quidditch, as the game against Slytherin was fast approaching.
This was despite the fact that each morning when he woke up, he looked down on the frosted ground, saw Hagrid down on the Quidditch Pitch, defrosting broom tails. Harry smiled – he kept his own Nimbus Two Thousand in the dormitory.
He spent most of his time out of lessons doing one of three things: training for Quidditch, exploring with Sirius, or without, and doing his homework. These activities, for the most part, kept him out of the way of the school body.
Everyone had heard about him taking on a mountain troll to save Hermione, and, for a few days at least, everyone thought that Harry was either going to announce that he loved Hermione, and the pair were going out, or that they would at least become very good friends and go most places together.
As it would happen, neither of these events came to pass. If anything, Harry became more remote than ever, despite the fact that Hermione often turned up where he least expected her to, and tried to start up a conversation or a friendship.
Harry was having neither, and was becoming, by the second week of this, fairly good at avoiding her. But Hermione, rather than halting her attempts to befriend him, became all the more persistent.
Harry wasn't sure whether he was annoyed or secretly pleased with this. Obviously she wanted to be friends with him, but he was not yet ready to befriend anyone, let alone the know-it-all, bossy and (most of the time) more than a little annoying Hermione Granger.
Harry would not have survived that this fore-run to the first Quidditch match without Sirius. It was Harry's godfather who checked over his homework each day, making sure that everything was as it should be.
Harry looked over various Quidditch books, most of which he already knew. He remembered facts that he had half forgotten, such as the fact that all of the seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul had occurred during the World Cup Match in 1473.
The day before Harry's first match, he was standing outside in the courtyard with only Sirius, reading over Quidditch Through the Ages in an attempt to sooth his nerves.
Harry was ignoring the cold, though he could see Hermione sitting a little ways away with a jar of blue fire, which was obviously giving off heat. He was thinking of doing something of the like with his Wandless magic, when he saw Snape.
The first thing that Harry noticed was that Snape was obviously in a horrible temper – his scowl was even worse than usual. The second thing Harry noticed was that he was limping badly.
Harry saw Hermione quickly hide her jar of fire, obviously not sure whether it was allowed or not. But Snape didn't notice her, limping over instead to where Harry was sitting. "What's that you've got there, Protectium?" he demanded.
Harry showed him Quidditch Through the Ages.
"Library books are not to be taken out of the school, Protectium. Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."
"He just made that up," Harry muttered angrily to himself as Snape limped away. Furious at Snape's actions, Harry thrust out his magic, turning the ground under Snape's next step into ice. The professor put his foot down and slipped, landing flat on his back and cursing foully.
"Serves him right," Harry muttered, stalking away with Sirius, panting happily, padding along at Harry's side, both completely ignoring Snape, who was struggling to get to his feet.
The Gryffindor Common Room was quite noisy that evening. Harry and Sirius kept to back of everything, though more than one person once more braved Harry's temper to try and get him involved.
Harry had just finished his Charms homework, and had put it down on a stool beside him. Sirius, sitting just near the stool, could that way read over the work without anyone thinking it was odd.
Harry felt restless, but didn't know what he wanted to do. He decided that he may as well head down to the Room of Requirement, which had fast become his favourite room in the castle, and practice Kata.
Partway there, Sirius looked up at him, whined, and then padded off in a different direction. "Sirius, where are you going?" Harry hissed. Sirius jerked his head in the direction that he had headed in.
"Not coming to the Room of Requirement?" Harry asked, and the dog shook its head.
"Well, I'll meet you outside of the common room in half an hour," Harry stated, slipping a hand into the bag that he was carrying, touching the silky folds of his Invisibility Cloak.
It was not yet after-hours, so he was allowed to be out and about for a little while longer, but he still would avoid Filch if he could, and in half hour he wouldn't be allowed out of the common room. He wondered where Sirius was off to, but knew his godfather would tell him in time.
Half an hour later, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak with the Marauders Map held in front of him, making sure that he wasn't going anywhere near Peeves, Filch or Snape.
In front of the Fat Lady, Sirius was waiting for him. Harry quickly gave the portrait the password, and hurried back inside the Common Room, having taken the Invisibility Cloak off some time before.
He went straight upstairs, ignoring several invitations to join groups and hang out. He and Sirius quickly slipped through the drapes around Harry's bed and settled themselves, Sirius locking the drapes closed and casting a silencing charm, just to make sure that they weren't disturbed or overheard.
"Where did you go?" Harry asked.
"I was looking for Snape," Sirius replied delicately.
"Why?"
"I wanted to know why he was limping," Sirius explained.
"What did you find out?" Harry was interested now.
"You know when we saw him when we were going after the troll?" Sirius asked, and Harry nodded, "well, he was heading for third floor, and he got bitten. Tonight, when I was following him, he went to the Staff Room, and Filch was there, changing the dressing. Snape said, I quote, 'Blasted thing! How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?' … So, he must have been talking about the dog. What other three headed things are around this school?"
"True … So, why is he trying to get passed the dog?" Harry wondered.
"To get what it's guarding!" both of them exclaimed at once, eyes wide.
"So … We know that Snape wants what the dog is guarding," Harry said. "We know it's something to do with 'philo', we know that 'philo' is the package that Hagrid brought to Hogwarts from Gringotts, and was probably what the dark wizards were looking for when they went to the bank."
"And Snape is definitely able to be classified as a dark wizard," Sirius said, eyes narrowing dangerously – he really didn't like Snape.
"So he must have been trying to get this thing for a while now," Harry said.
"Which means that we have to find out what it is, and how to get it, before he does," Sirius finished. "I think we'd best start with Hagrid, he obviously knows something about it."
"I think you're right, after the game tomorrow. He said that he'd be coming, to cheer for Gryffindor," Harry agreed.
"Good idea," Sirius agreed.
Harry had been spending a little more time with Hagrid of late. Harry had not asked about the package, or even mentioned it again. Hagrid had made no more hints as to what may have happened to the package, nor what was contained within it.
Oh well, maybe he'd let something slip if questioned about something directly related to the 'philo' something.
That night, Harry slept easily and deeply, unaware that something that directly concerned him was going on below him in the castle proper …
Quirrell, a voice whispered in the back of the Professors mind. Professor Quirrell jumped slightly, not yet used to the voice coming at odd moments.
"How m-may I serve you, my lord?" He asked quietly, unable to stop a slight stutter. His Lord was cruel, though necessary in walking the road to power. The stutter was unfeigned.
Tomorrow, you will kill the boy Nemo Protectium … If you can, the voice replied.
"But … My lord, why would you wish that?" Quirrell questioned, unable to help himself.
He comes from a family that once hid from me, I know it. Nemo Protectium is not his true name. Whatever his name is, his family were my enemies, and one of those who fled in terror before was able to destroy them. He will die, the voice whispered in the back of Quirrell's mind. And Quirrell? You should know not to question me, your Lord and Master.
A wave of pain swept from Quirrell's upper arm across his entire body, gone almost before he was aware of it, leaving his muscles weak and aching. Do not do so again.
"Nemo, you should eat something," Fred Weasley dropped down on one side of Gryffindors new Seeker.
"Yes, just think of the humiliation you'd feel if you fainted from hunger and fell from your broom?" added George, sitting on the other side.
Harry had learnt to tell the Twins apart already, one of the few who was able to do so every time he encountered them. For Harry, it had been a simple matter of marking one of them with Wandless magic, using the Marauders Map to make sure he got the right one. He had not cast an actual spell, but had left something that his mind could somehow sense which twin had the touch of his magic.
"Oh fine," Harry said. It was impossible not to like the Weasley Twins, with their odd pranks and funny comments. Harry rarely spent much time with them, because he knew that he wouldn't able to avoid becoming their friend. He grabbed a plain bread roll and nibbled on it. "Happy?" he asked.
"Ecstatic!" Fred assured him, and he and his twin got up and wandered up to where Lee Jordan, their friend, was standing.
The moment they were gone, Harry slipped the roll under the table to Sirius. He felt terrible. In one hour, he'd be out on the Quidditch Pitch under the eyes of basically the entire school.
At least he knew he wouldn't make a fool of himself. That was a bit of a plus.
Unless he just froze …
Don't think about it, he told himself firmly.
Great … Now I'm talking to myself, he added, almost absently.
Without noticing, Harry picked up an apple and nibbled on it, lost in his own thoughts. "Come on Nemo," George was back. "Let's get down to the pitch."
Harry blinked, startled, then nodded. He hardly noticed when Sirius slipped away from him, he was way too nervous, and he knew that Sirius wouldn't be following him today anyway.
By eleven o'clock, the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many of them had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.
As a gesture of encouragement for their new team member, Fred and George had organised for a few banners to be held over the Gryffindor supports with such things as Protectium for President. They'd even organised for some of the more talented artists within Gryffindor to draw lions and such.
Harry was, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone save Sirius, quite touched by the offering of support. He certainly hadn't expected it.
Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes. Slytherin would play in green.
Wood cleared his throat for silence. "Ok, men," he said.
"And women," said one of the Chasers, named Angelina Johnson.
"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."
"The big one," put in Fred.
"The one we've all been waiting for," his twin took over.
"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred grinned at Harry.
"Yeah, we were on the team last year," George added.
"Shut up!" Wood laughed at them. "This is the best team we've had in years. We are going to win."
Or else, his eyes said.
"Right, it's time. Get out there, play your best, stay safe and good luck!"
Harry followed Fred and George out of the changing room and stepped slowly onto the pitch. The crowd was a chanting mass of green and scarlet, blurring before his eyes into a single, massive body.
Madam Hooch was refereeing, and Harry had quickly picked up that this was an accepted fact in the world of Quidditch at Hogwarts. It was only a rare occasion on which she didn't referee.
"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said once the two teams were gathered around. Harry noted, with faint amusement, that she seemed to be speaking to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, sixth year.
"Mount your brooms, please."
Harry mounted his Nimbus Two Thousand with confidence.
Madam Hooch gave a blast on her silver whistle, and fifteen brooms rose into the air. They were off!
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry Professor."
Lee Jordan was commentating and Harry knew that if he bothered to listen to what the other boy was saying, he'd find it rather humorous. Harry, however, had more things to do than listen to the commentary.
Harry shot upwards further, until he was far above the game. A flash of green behind him was the Slytherin seeker attempting to catch up, Harry turned his mind away. From here, Harry started circling the pitch, searching, ever searching, for the glint of gold that marked the Snitch.
He heard the crowd go wild, and some part of his brain told him that it was Angelina who'd scored.
"Budge up there," a voice came to Hermione and Neville. They turned to see the giant man, Hagrid, coming up to them.
"Hagrid!" Hermione had known the man for a while now, and she that Nemo was sort-of friends with him. More than he was friends with anyone else, save the dog, Ardeo.
"Hi there Hermione," Hagrid said with a slight nod. "Bin watchin' from me hut," he said, patting a pair of binoculars as Neville and Hermione squeezed together so he could fit.
"Any sign of the Snitch yet?" Hagrid asked.
"No," Neville replied.
Way above them, Harry glided through the air, searching, always searching. A dim part of his mind noted that Hagrid had turned up, though he wasn't sure why, or how, he'd managed to realise this.
This was part of The Plan which he and Wood had constructed, and which he and Sirius had embroidered when they thought it was necessary.
He caught sight of a flash of gold, but quickly realised that it was a reflection from Fred's gold wrist-watch. The Slytherin Seeker didn't work this out and hurried in the direction of the flash, while Harry kept his attention on finding the real Snitch.
A Bludger pelted in Harry's direction, and he dodged, nodding to George as the Weasley twin headed past in pursuit.
Slytherin was in possession of the Quaffle when Harry saw it. Faintly aware of Jordan cried "is that the Snitch?" Harry was already diving for it. Terence Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker, had also seen it, and they hurtled ahead, neck and neck. Everyone else seemed to forget what they were doing and stopped to watch the two Seekers instead.
Harry was the faster, now that he had his Nimbus Two Thousand, and he could see the Snitch ahead of him, he put on a burst of speed, registered a green blur to the side of his vision and spiralled out of the dive, straight in front of Terence, who braked on instinct, as Marcus Flint flashed below the pair of them.
The Snitch was lost, and the Gryffindors booed and yelled 'foul'. Madam Hooch evidently agreed with them, even if Flint hadn't actually hit Harry, he'd deliberately interfered when he'd realised that his player was losing.
Lee Jordan quickly got onto the commentary, though he seemed quite annoyed with the Slytherin captain, and was having a hard time getting back on track.
"Alicia puts away a nice pass and slimeba-I mean captain Flint tries to take the Quaffle … fails … the idio-Flint tries to grab the Quaffle – I think that's a bit of cobbling there, Madam Hooch!" Sure enough, it was.
Though a little pissed about having missed the Snitch due to cheating, Harry had returned to the higher parts of the pitch, and was once more searching for the elusive golden ball.
Harry went to dodge another Bludger, when his broom jerked, nearly sending him straight into its path. He managed to pull it away, just in time, and wondered what the hell was happening. No broom had ever done this to him, that he could remember.
It happened again, as if the broom itself was trying to buck him off. But … brooms did not try to buck their riders off – not without someone else interfering, at least.
Harry scanned the crowd, he couldn't see anyone suspicious. No one had noticed that he wasn't in control anymore. Below him, Harry saw the Snitch – a glance told him that Higgs hadn't noticed.
He kept his eyes on the ball, and, as people were starting to notice, lashed out with his Wandless magic, countering the curse, for that he knew it was, and plunging downwards.
The crowd was on its feet, cheering in astonishment as they watched him, Harry ignored it, keeping up his Wandless magic, plunging down toward the Snitch.
He snatched at it with one hand, feeling his hold over his magic weaken, his hand closed around the little golden ball, and then the broom bucked again. Harry was thrown off, managing to grab hold with one hand, the other clutching with a death grip on the broom.
Everyone was watching, and, from this level, Harry saw Snape's lips moving. So, this was who was trying to kill him …. But why? Suddenly a spell lanced in front of him, heading straight for Snape. Harry immediately thought of Sirius. Professor Quirrell, at the opposite end of the row, held a hand in front of his eyes to shield them. Snape dropped, and the brooms movements stopped also.
Immediately, Fred and George were at Harry's side. They couldn't get close before, without the broom behaving even worse. "Thanks," Harry muttered as Fred caught him and set him on his own broom.
"Welcome Nemo," Fred replied. "You caught the Snitch despite a bucking broom – you're good!"
"Thanks," Harry said again, blushing slightly. "It was nothing."
"Was not," George disagreed. "That was spectacular. My brother Charlie couldn't have done it, I don't think!"
From what he'd heard of Charlie Weasley, this was a compliment indeed, coming from his brother. Harry smiled briefly at George, thankful for the praise, though he did not want to admit it.
"Why don't you two get down t'my place," Hagrid suggested to Hermione and Neville, who were sitting next him, not having moved when the rest of the Gryffindor supporters rushed down to congratulate the team. "I'll try'n get Nemo t'join us."
"OK Hagrid," Hermione said, smiling. She and Neville had both befriended Hagrid at almost the same time. Both of them wanted the friendship of Nemo Protectium. Both of them had seen the spark of kindness and selflessness that the boy possessed, but which Nemo hid behind closed features and a general cold demeanour.
In the past month, they had become closer, until they –finally- realised that they had, in their quest for friendship with another, had become friends with each other, and also Hagrid.
The three of them had joined together in a powerful bond, to uncover the seed of goodness, the deeply embedded longing for friendship that they all three knew Nemo possessed.
Hagrid worried for the boy, seeing the pain in his past, the pain that Nemo now allowed to rule his heart, so that the only one who could ever get close to him had been the red setter, Ardeo. He knew that Nemo wanted more friends, but that the past tragedy made him keep his distance.
"I'll help yeh," he'd told Hermione, "to make Nemo realise he needs friends. I won't help yeh to force 'im teh be friends with yeh. 'E'll choose his own frien's; yeh ain't got no business choosing them for 'im, got tha?"
"Of course Hagrid," Hermione and Neville had agreed, but Hermione, at least, was determined that Nemo would be her friend, in her heart and mind she'd decided that for the both of them.
And Neville would be their friend as well. Hermione had, once she'd gotten to know Neville, realised that there was a lot behind his clumsy exterior. She'd started helping him out in class, partnering him when it was required, and giving him advice.
She'd also discovered, to her amazement, that he knew more than she did about Herbology, something that she was somewhat annoyed about. But she was learning to deal with being second best in this area, as she often was to Nemo in other areas of her studies.
Quite used to being the top of the class, as she had been since her first year at Muggle school, Hermione did not appreciate the sudden challenge to what she had almost come to see as her place.
But something in her still called to befriend Nemo; something within him that inescapably drew her to him, desiring the bounds of friendship. Now she and Neville and Hermione were making their way down Hagrid's hut, and Hagrid would bring Nemo along soon, and then all would be well!
Hermione's step almost bounced, she was that happy, and beside her, Neville seemed no less happy. Hermione put the kettle on before she sat down at the table and waited.
A moment later, Hagrid walked into the small, one-room hut, with Nemo walking, hands thrust into pockets, and Ardeo prowling by his side. The boy and dog both stopped as they saw the other two occupants of the hut, and Nemo turned his eyes coolly to Hagrid, demanding an answer.
"They wanted to talk with yeh," Hagrid muttered. "An I wanted to as well."
"About what?" Nemo asked, on his guard.
"Teh start wi', the game," Hagrid replied. "Any idea why yeh broom was acting up?"
"Snape was jinxing it," Nemo replied.
Harry felt a little betrayed. He'd started to trust Hagrid now, after a little over a months steady companionship. Now he found Neville and Hermione in Hagrid's house, waiting for him.
He liked Neville well enough, but why were they here? And what did they want?
"Snape?" three voices yelped as one.
"Yeh can't be sure o that, Nemo," Hagrid said, looking a little uncomfortable.
"Yeah I can," Harry replied. "His lips were moving, he wasn't blinking, and he was looking straight at me."
"I read that you have to maintain eye contact for jinxes," Hermione said.
"I know, that's why I know it was him," Harry said, before she could say more. Hermione looked down, disappointed. "He's been acting suspicious for awhile now."
"How so?" Hagrid inquired, Neville and Hermione looking interested, but not wanting to speak yet, in case the boy refused to answer.
"He was near the third floor on Halloween when the troll was out," Harry replied absently. "And he's been limping since. The three-headed monster-dog must have bitten him … I wonder why he was trying to get passed it."
Harry wasn't concentrating on the situation at all, lost in his thoughts as he was.
Hagrid, who'd just taken a gulp of tea, choked. "How do you know about Fluffy?" he demanded, staring at Harry in amazement.
"Fluffy?" Hermione repeated slowly, stunned out of her silence, and Harry was jerked back to reality, realising what he'd just said.
"He's mine," Hagrid said, staring at the three surprised and (in Neville and Hermione's cases, utterly terrified) faces. "Bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – lent him to Dumbledore to guard the Philo-"
"The what?" Harry asked, as Hagrid broke off with a groan.
"Ne'er mind, fergit yeh heard it," Hagrid replied hurriedly. "That's top secret, that is!"
"Snape is trying to steal it, Hagrid, he must be!" Harry pointed out.
"Rubbish," Hagrid replied. "But tha's not what I brought yeh hear to talk about," he quickly changed the subject.
Harry winced, pretty sure he knew what was coming. "What did you bring me here to talk about?" he demanded.
"Yeh need friends, Nemo!" Hagrid told him, and Harry sighed loudly. "Don give me tha! Yeh know it as well as I do! I woulda neva gotten over being expelled back when I were in third year if I hadn't a had friends!"
"You were expelled?" Neville demanded suddenly, staring at Hagrid in surprise.
"Yeah … I was," Hagrid replied, seeming a little embarrassed. "A little misunastandin', but ol' Dippet didn't want ta listen to me … Dumbledore did though – great man, Dumbledore. Got me my position as groundskeeper, actually!"
"Oh," Neville said. "Why?"
"Ne'er mind, ne'er mind," Hagrid muttered. "Bu' the point is, my friends got me through, and Nemo, yeh need friends yehself. Human ones. Nothin' against Ardeo – he's a fine beast, but yeh need to have humans yeh can connect with."
Harry sighed again. "And I suppose you want me to be friends with them two," he waved a hand in Neville and Hermione's direction. "I'm almost friends with you, Hagrid, isn't that enough?"
"Nah, I don't reckon it is," Hagrid replied. "Yeh need people yeh own age, students here, if possible, cos they know what yeh going through, and they can help!"
"They haven't got a clue what I'm going through," Harry snapped.
"Maybe we would if you let us get close to you for just five minutes!" Hermione yelled suddenly, appearing furious with him. Harry blinked.
"An' I'm not saying that yeh should be friends with these two, necessarily, but yeh do need friends, Nemo, and not just me and Ardeo. Think about it – Neville an' Hermione are ready to be your friends, all yeh have to do is accept them!"
"I'll think about it," Harry allowed, not ready to say that this had hit a nerve, for it was almost exactly what he himself had been thinking lately. Without another word, he got up and walked outside, with Ardeo, whining softly, following by his heels.
***
Well, Harry's getting closer to accepting Neville and Hermione now, for those of you who've been yelling at me to get a move on and bring them together, I'm getting there! I don't want to rush anything.
Thanks:
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