Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Would that I did!
Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews! Also, I realize that I would get more reviews if I turned off the 'Block Anonymous Reviews,' but I would also lose my main way of getting new things to read.
"Draco, you have to eat!"
"Shut up Granger!" Draco snarled.
"Well," she gasped, "if you want to faint and fall off your broom, go right ahead!"
Draco muttered something about "overbearing women" and started to eat.
Hermione smiled and turned to Harry: "How did the meeting with the Headmaster go?"
Harry grunted, "The old fool wanted to congratulate me on making friends with people from other houses; then he told me that if I didn't stop hexing Weasley, I'd be banned from Quidditch."
Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "How else are we supposed to spend our time away from the library?"
Harry smiled. "We lure him into the dungeons. Old Salazar placed so many privacy words that even Merlin would be hard pressed to find them all."
Hermione smiled but was cut off from replying when Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, stood up and yelled out, "Team! Suit up!"
Harry and Draco nodded toward Hermione and Neville, and then they left with the rest of the team.
"All right…we haven't lost to Gryffindor in more than four years; if we lose now, I'll have your hides, understand?" he smiled sadistically and the team gave hasty nods. "Good…let's go."
Harry stepped behind Marcus and Draco. The ceiling was shaking from all the noise. Suddenly a voice shouted out, "AND NOW THE SLYTHERIN TEAM!" They walked out to where the Gryffindors were already standing and faced Madam Hooch.
She smiled at Harry and said in a loud voice, "I want you to play a clean game." She seemed to be looking at Flint as she said this. He just smirked. "Now captains, shake hands."
The two boys approached each other and shook hands…sort of; it seemed to be more of a competition to see who could squeeze harder. They finally let go (the winner undecided) and went back to their respective teams.
Madam Hooch gave the signal to mount up, and with a blow of her whistle, they were off.
"Quaffle is taken immediately by the Slytherin chaser, Harold Black! He's rushing toward the Gryffindor goal post. Come on Oliver! He goes in and—oh no! He makes it—ten points to Slytherin."
Harry waited while the Keeper retrieved the Quaffle. Just as Wood was about throw it out, he rushed toward the goal post. Wood, caught off guard, dropped the Quaffle right into the Flint's waiting hands.
"Wood drops the Quaffle, Flint catches and flies up toward the goals, he shoots…and Wood saves the Quaffle! Gryffindor now in possession! Katie Bell flying toward the Slytherin goal posts, Black approaching from behind…watch out, Katie!"
Harry sidled up alongside Bell, who was shooting him nervous glances out of the corner of her eyes. She tried a few barrel rolls to lose him, and when that didn't work she tried to go faster. Just as she was getting ahead him, he gave a short burst of speed and grabbed the Quaffle right out of her arms.
"Black has the Quaffle! He passes to Flint, who passes to third chaser—can never remember that bloke's name—who passes it back to Black…Black flies toward the goal post, shoots…and scores! Twenty—Zero Slytherin!"
It continued like this for a while, and then Harry's broom gave a jerk. He tried to fly down, but his broom gave a bigger jerk. "Flint! Something is happening to my broom!" Flint tried to approach him, but as he got closer the broom started to buck up and down.
In the stands, Hermione and Neville were watching worriedly as Harry lost control of his broom.
"What's happening?"
Hermione shook her head fearfully: "It looks like a Jinx, a dark one."
"What do we do?"
"I don't know."
"Flint! Send a Bludger toward the Professors' box!"
"What? Why?"
"Because, you big idiot…" his broom twisted weirdly in the air "…only a teacher could possibly—oomph!" another jerk "…only a teacher could enchant a Nimbus!"
"If you're sure." He nodded towards the Beater. In a few seconds, Harry was on a calm broomstick again.
Draco, who had been looking for it during Harry's predicament, caught the Snitch just as Madam Hooch was about to call a penalty for the Bludger toward the stands.
"And Malfoy catches the snitch! Slytherin wins—three hundred and fifty points to ten!"
The Slytherin stands erupted into cheers. The rest of the school clapped half-heartedly (which is to say that only Hermione and Neville were clapping).
"How did you find this room anyway?" They were in a room very much like their own common rooms.
"It was the Slytherin common room for about a hundred years before the European Migration of Eleven-oh-Nine. This common room is notably smaller, as you can see."
"How'd did you find it?"
"The portrait of Slytherin told me."
"Oh. So do you know who was jinxing the broom?"
"Only three teachers could possibly have the ability to cast that jinx: Snape, Quirrell, and Flitwick"
"Flitwick?" Hermione asked, shocked.
"He's one of the most powerful wizards ever to walk this earth. He didn't get that way by studying only the light arts…but he wouldn't cast it. And Snape has too many connections to my family to have any motivation. That leaves Quirrell."
"But…he's an idiot!"
Hermione shook her head: "It makes perfect sense; at the match, the few times I looked at him, his eyes were always on you."
"Just as I thought."
"But why would he want to kill you?"
That question remained unanswered.
A/N: Did you like it?