Chapter 11

Gryffindor vs Slytherin

Harry felt warm but comfortable in the soft bed with a mountain of blankets and pillows. He could hear muffled voices in the distance and buried his face deeper in the pillow in an attempt to drown out the little noise that he could make out. He was comfortable and had no intention of leaving it any time soon. He liked it here. He was safe here.

Safe.

He wanted nothing more than to drift back off into oblivion but something was stopping him. Something was touching his hair. The motion felt familiar but foreign at the same time. Confusion entered his mind causing Harry to groan in annoyance. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. Mindlessly, he tried to swat the irritation away but his arms were asleep.

"I think he's coming around."

Coming around? Why were people waiting for him to wake up? Harry was now even more confused. Thinking as hard as his cloudy mind would let him, Harry tried to piece together last night. Come to think of it, he didn't remember even going to bed. He didn't even remember entering the Gryffindor Tower.

SIRIUS BLACK!

He remembered. He remembered Black holding him against the wall, demanding entrance into the Gryffindor Tower. He remembered trying to break free and failing. He remembered something hitting the back of his head.

Harry quickly rolled on his back and sat up, panic making it difficult to breathe. He ignored the dizziness that flooded his head. Blurred people hurried to his bedside while two sets of hands tried to gently push him back down. Harry fought the hands as much a he could. He wouldn't give in. Sirius Black would never get anything from him.

"Calm down Harry," urged a familiar voice. "We're not going to hurt you. Black isn't here. You're safe now."

Harry stopped fighting but his body was still tense, still resisting the hands that were trying to make him lie back down. He was still breathing heavily as he looked nervously around. "Safe?" he asked softly. "He's gone?"

His glasses were gently slid on his face, bringing the room into focus. Harry saw Professor Dumbledore and Professor Lupin were the ones trying to push him down. Behind them were Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape. Slowly, Harry returned his attention to Professor Lupin then looked away as his eyes had started to burn with tears.

"Are you all right Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked gently.

Harry nodded. "H—he wanted to get in the Gryffindor Tower," he said in a wavering voice. "H—he kept saying that 'he was here at Hogwarts'. He was worried. He thought someone was in the Gryffindor Tower that would hurt me. I—I—"

"Its okay, Harry," said Professor Lupin. "Are you sure Black didn't try to hurt you?"

Harry nodded again as he stared at his hands. He suddenly felt like a child who had been caught playing in the street after being told not to. He felt like he had disappointed his 'family'. Harry didn't like that feeling at all. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I—I didn't think he would be in the castle. I never should have left the feast."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said sincerely. "This is not your fault. However, the fact of the matter is you are not as safe here as we had originally believed. Sirius Black may have been trying to gain your trust but until he is caught, I must insist that you not venture anywhere alone."

Harry could only nod as tears fell. He didn't like the feeling that he was being punished for something that Dumbledore had just said wasn't his fault. It wasn't fair. "Does everyone know?" he asked in the same shaky voice.

There was a brief silence. "The ghosts informed us just as we were finishing dinner," Professor Lupin said carefully. "I know you don't want the attention, Harry, but there's nothing we can do about it now. Your classmates need to know the threat is real because we can't be with you all the time. Do you understand?"

"It will calm down after a few days, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Get some rest. It's still quite early in the morning."

The adults slowly filtered out of the room but when Professor Lupin stood up, Harry instinctively grabbed his sleeve and looked at him, silently pleading him to stay. Harry couldn't explain it but he just really didn't want to be alone right now. Lupin seemed to take the hint and sat back down on the edge of the bed. Lying back down, Harry only now felt the dizziness swarming his head again. He had plenty of practice on blocking pain so it was almost second nature now.

Lupin gave Harry a soft smile as he covered the boy up. Harry's eyes were already starting to droop so he removed the glasses and watched as Harry slowly drifted off to sleep. "Don't worry, cub," Lupin said softly. "We'll get through this."

It had certainly been a long Sunday and an even longer week. Everyone wanted to know all the details about what was now classified as an attempted kidnapping but what Harry refused to say was told by the Fat Lady portrait (at least the portion that she had seen). By Sunday evening, everyone had their own version of what really happened and how Sirius Black had gotten in the castle.

Professor Lupin had been right about the students taking the threat seriously. The entire Gryffindor Tower had taken it upon themselves to serve as bodyguards whenever they could which ended up being a good thing more often than not. With the Quidditch game coming up, the atmosphere between the Slytherin and Gryffindor house was certainly tense. Several fights had broken out and it had become a daily challenge for the Slytherins to do anything and everything to scare Harry Potter. Some had tried to convince Harry that they had seen Sirius Black in the castle again while others conversed about how the Quidditch Pitch would be an easy place to kill someone just as Harry happened to be walking by.

Professor McGonagall had joined Madam Hooch in supervising the Quidditch practices which were longer and more grueling than ever before. Oliver Wood was pushing his team harder than ever but no one dared to complain. Every member of the Quidditch team wanted to beat Slytherin as much as Oliver. No one cared how bad the weather was getting or that they came in every night soaked to the bone.

The day before the match the weather was so bad that lanterns were needed in the hallways. Entering the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Harry was starting to get a bad feeling about the game. He really wasn't looking forward to playing in this weather. How would he even be able to see the snitch? Would he be able to see the Snitch?

Harry took his usual seat in the front with Ron to his right and Hermione to his left while the remainder of the class slowly filled in. They pulled out their supplies as the door slammed closed making everyone jump. Turning around, Harry's eyes widened as he saw Professor Snape walking towards the teacher's desk, his robe billowing behind him. Professor Lupin must be really sick.

"This is not happening," Ron muttered. "Please tell me this isn't happening."

Harry didn't risk answering as he watched Professor Snape flip through the textbook to the very last pages. "Turn to page 394," he said coldly. "Today we will be discussing werewolves."

Not wanting to be the subject of Snape's wrath, Harry obediently opened his book to the correct page. He could feel Professor Snape's stern gaze as the Potion's Master watched and waited for someone to defy him. This was a test, plan and simple. Harry was determined not to be that person that Snape made an example of.

Unfortunately, Hermione was unable to restrain herself. "But sir," she objected. "We're not supposed to do werewolves until of next term. We're supposed to start Hinkypunks today."

Professor Snape glared at her as he slowly approached. "Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, Miss Granger," he hissed. "Now, can anyone tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" He ignored Hermione's arm in the air. "Anyone? Pity. It appears that the favored Professor Lupin is slacking in his classes."

This time it was Dean who spoke up. "He's the best Defense teacher we've ever had," he said boldly. Several people nodded in agreement but no one was brave enough to voice their opinion.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Thomas," said Snape. "If you all continue this Gryffindor will have no points left to give, not that I'm complaining. Now can anyone answer my question?"

Hermione still had her hand in the air. "Please, sir," she said. "The snout of a werewolf is shorter—"

Professor Snape slammed his hands down on Hermione's desk and glared at her. "Speak out of turn again and you will have detention for the remainder of the term," he snapped. "Ten more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione put her hand down as her gaze fell. It had to hurt deeply to hear such a thing from a teacher regardless of the fact that everyone called her that at least once a week. Harry could see that Hermione was near tears. He bit his lip to keep himself from saying anything in front of Professor Snape. Retuning his attention to his text book, Harry could see Ron out of the corner of his eye. The redhead was seething with anger and was about to defend Hermione so Harry did the only thing he could think of…he stomped on Ron's foot.

Ron instantly turned to Harry, his eyes flashing, demanding an explanation. Harry gave Ron a pleading look, hoping that his friend would understand or at least take the hint. After a moment, Ron rolled his eyes and retuned his attention to Professor Snape.

For the rest of the class, no one said anything and they didn't do anything besides taking notes about werewolves out of their textbooks. As Harry took his notes, he was surprised to find many similarities to Professor Lupin. Werewolves had a hard time keeping weight on due to the transformations and appeared ill up to two weeks before the transformation. Professor Lupin was incredibly thin and had been ill but that didn't make him a werewolf.

Right?

The more Harry learned, the more unnerved he became and the more realistic his fear was becoming. There were just too many similarities to ignore. But if he was a werewolf, why didn't he tell me? He's supposed to be my guardian! Harry instantly paled. What if that was why Professor Lupin didn't say anything? What if no one was supposed to know?

At the end of class, Professor Snape assigned two rolls of parchment on the ways to recognize and kill werewolves. The entire class was outraged at the assignment. There was a Quidditch game this weekend! Gryffindor vs Slytherin no less! The moment Snape dismissed them, everyone hurried out of the classroom. Everyone but Harry.

Cautiously, Harry approached the teacher's desk where Professor Snape was packing up his things. "Professor?" he asked softly. Professor Snape quickly turned around forcing Harry to take a frightened step back. "I don't mean to disturb you but I was wondering," Harry said uncomfortably as he avoided looking at Snape in the eyes. "I read that it is against the law for werewolves to have children." Slowly, Harry looked up at Snape, his eyes pleading for reassurance. "What about adoption?"

Professor Snape looked at Harry for a moment then grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. After dipping the quill in ink, Snape quickly wrote down something then turned back to face Harry. "I don't know every law there is, Potter," he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice as he handed over the piece of parchment. "That book should tell you what you need to know but sometimes it's better to ask someone who would know."

Harry's gaze fell as he pocketed the note. He didn't even know if it was true so he wasn't going to accuse Professor Lupin of something like this. "I wish I could," he muttered. "Thanks Professor."

He left without even looking up at Professor Snape. His entire world had been turned upside down. Professor Dumbledore had warned him this had been a temporary arrangement but Harry had hoped that would end up being permanent. Harry felt that Professor Lupin knew and understood him better than anyone else. The thought of losing that was more than Harry could take.

Harry didn't sleep well that night, if he slept at all. His mind was too preoccupied and the thundering storm outside didn't help. Flashes of lightning lit up the room and the harsh winds pounded against the castle. This is going to be a great game, Harry thought sarcastically. He finally gave up the thought of sleep in the early morning hours and retreated to the Common Room with his Charms book. If this weather was going to continue, he would certainly need some help.

It took him a little less than an hour to find a charm to make his glasses repel water which was essential. This way he would be able to see…well…as much as someone could possibly see in this weather. He didn't want to risk casting any other charms, fearing the Slytherins may accuse him of cheating. At least now he and Malfoy were on even ground, so to speak.

With really nothing else to do, Harry ended up starting his werewolf essay. He still wasn't allowed to go anywhere alone which was starting to get annoying. During his month alone at Hogwarts, Harry had grown accustomed to roaming the halls whenever he needed to think. During the two months after school began Harry had also grown accustomed to venturing to Professor Lupin's office whenever he needed to talk.

He couldn't do that now for a variety of reasons.

Harry had checked a calendar and discovered that Lupin's illnesses had coincided with the lunar cycle. It was like the pieces kept falling into place in spite of how much Harry wanted them not to. He had to assume all of the teachers knew since they had participated in convincing Harry during the summer. If he told them why couldn't he tell me?

As Harry's luck would have it the storm remained at full force. The entire school was huddled under umbrellas that appeared to be one gust of wind away from being torn apart. Dressed in their scarlet robes, the team fought against the fierce wind as they made their way out onto the field. Rain seemed to be coming from every direction but amazingly he could see clearly. The charm was working remarkably.

The Slytherin team appeared on the opposite side of the fielding their green robes. It seemed…wrong to see the team without their smirks but it was clear that the Slytherins were just as worried about playing in this weather as the Gryffindors. The Captains approached the middle of the field and shook hands then returned to their teams. Harry could see Madam Hooch's lips move saying something that resembled "Mount your brooms" and quickly, yet discreetly cast a heating charm so he wouldn't freeze to the bone before swinging his right foot over his Nimbus and took off the moment he heard the distant whistle.

Rising fast, Harry kept a firm grip on his broom, ignoring the swerving it did as a result of the wind. It only took minutes for Harry to be completely soaked but thanks to the heating charm he didn't feel the cold. Blurred red and green shapes flew all over the place but Harry paid them little attention. He was completely focused on finding the Snitch.

The storm grew worse. It was becoming difficult for anyone to keep their broom straight. Harry had two close calls with the Bludgers before the sound of the Madam Hooch's whistle pulled him out of his concentration. Looking around, Harry saw his team lowering to the ground and followed suit. They landed, ignoring the mud splashing up on their robes, and hurried under a large umbrella for cover.

"What's the score?" Harry shouted over the wind.

"We're losing by ten!" Oliver shouted back. "We need you to catch the Snitch soon or we're all going to freeze to death!"

Looking around, Harry noticed that everyone but him was shivering. Without another thought, Harry quickly pulled out his wand and cast several heating charms. Everyone stopped shivering and looked at Harry, making him feel incredibly uncomfortable. "What?" he asked nervously. "It's just a simple heating charm."

The girls on the team looked like they wanted to kiss him. "Brilliant Harry!" Oliver shouted. "Let's go team!"

Everyone was still completely soaked but at least they weren't freezing anymore. That didn't stop Harry's determination to catch the Snitch as soon as possible. He didn't want to be out in this storm any longer than he had to. There was another rumble of thunder followed by a quick flash of lightning but it was enough. Harry saw the small golden Snitch heading for the teacher's box and immediately took off.

Harry was almost there when all of a sudden all of the noise around him vanished. The wind was still there but there was no roar. The crowd wasn't making a sound. It was almost like someone had muted all sound but that was impossible. Wasn't it?

Forget it! Catch the Snitch!

Harry reached out for the small flying ball when a familiar feeling of intense cold filled his body, like the heating charm had suddenly been removed and he was trapped in subzero temperatures. Ignore it! His vision started to fade as it became difficult to breathe. Harry knew what was happening when a familiar scream filled his ears. He felt the Snitch in his hand and immediately wrapped his fingers around it. The cold was too much. He couldn't ignore it anymore.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…"

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead —"

He slumped forward as his grip loosened. Before Harry knew it, he was falling; falling into the darkness; into the bitter coldness that was waiting for him. There was nothing he could do.

"Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…"

A high pitched laugh filled his ears. It was familiar, hauntingly familiar. Another scream and darkness consumed him.

Distant voices filled his ears. Harry wanted nothing more for them to stop so he could go back to sleep. He was exhausted and extremely sore. Every inch of his body hurt. Moving was out of the question. A distinct aroma was in the air. Harry let out a groan as he tried to place it. It didn't take Harry long to figure out that he was in the hospital wing. Wait a minute…what am I doing here?

"I can't believe this."

"I can't believe he still caught the Snitch with them there."

"I've never been so terrified in my life."

Terrified? Why would anyone be terrified? Catch the Snitch? What were these people talking about? Slowly, Harry's head started to clear and the memories came back. He remembered the Quidditch game, his mother pleading and Voldemort's voice. Harry's eyes snapped open to see blurry faces gathered around his bed.

"Harry!" Fred cried out. "How're you doing?"

Harry turned his face towards Fred's voice only to hiss in pain. Someone grabbed his right hand and held it tightly while someone else slid his glasses on his face. The faces suddenly came into focus. The entire Gryffindor Quidditch Team, (still caked with mud and completely soaked) Ron and Hermione surrounded him. From the worried looks on their faces Harry figured he had to be in rough shape.

"What happened?" Harry asked at last in a rough voice. He had a general idea what happened but for some reason Harry needed confirmation. He needed to know if the nightmare had been a reality.

"Er—well—you fell, Harry," Oliver said nervously. "It had to have been at least fifty feet; right after you caught the Snitch. There were so many Dementors…"

"Dumbledore was furious, Harry," Hermione said as she squeezed Harry's hand. "All of the teachers ran onto the field and tried to slow your fall and shot some silver stuff at the Dementors, sending them away. They weren't supposed to come anywhere near the pitch."

"You still hit the ground hard though," added Ron. "We thought you were dead. Then there is the matter of your broom."

There was just something about the tone of Ron's voice that made Harry's stomach tighten. Harry closed his eyes but couldn't do much else. "What happened to my broom?" he asked.

"It was blown into the Whomping Willow, Harry," Hermione said nervously. "I'm so sorry."

Harry felt like he was going to be sick. He had plenty of experience with the Whomping Willow to know the sort of beating that tree could give. His broom, his Nimbus Two Thousand, stood no chance. "It's destroyed," he said as he opened his eyes and looked at Ron. "Isn't it?"

Hands touched his limbs and gave reassuring squeezes. Ron looked at Hermione who picked up a bag off the floor and set it on the edge of Harry's bed. "Professor Flitwick just brought it back," Hermione said sympathetically. "I'm sorry Harry. There's nothing that anyone can do to repair it. Professor Dumbledore already tried."

Harry could only stare at the bag that now contained the splintered pieces of his faithful broomstick. He had never known how much he had actually cherished it until now. It was his second gift ever. Now, it was nothing more than firewood.