Chapter 23 – Gryffindor vs. Slytherin
"Let it go, Harry." Ginny tried to keep her voice as stable as possible as they went to the changing rooms. She caressed his hand with delicate strokes like she always did when he was in a bad mood to make him relax, but this time it wasn't working.
"Of all people, you're telling me to cool it? That scumbag is way out of his league, hurting Hermione like that! That filthy son of a-"
In an instant, Ginny flew her hand out and sealed his mouth. Harry kept on raving but the words came out muffled, making Ginny's hand press even tighter.
"I get it. Seriously. We have to knock some sense into him, but later. You can't expect to win a Quidditch match with overly hormonal teenagers who wanna knock the stuffings out of people in their own team," Ginny came closer, "Now, are you ready to behave?"
Harry nodded and as soon as she retrieved her hand, he goaded into speech, "Why are you so calm about this? He hurt her, he actually physically hurt her. Did you see those lines on her neck? And people think I'm losing my mind-"
"Eh, eh, eh!" warned Ginny. She pointed ahead to the entrance of the changing room, which was now only a few yards from them.
"Just relax! Forget about Ron for now. That's my order."
Harry shot her a this-is-not-the-time-to-be-joking-look, but as much as he didn't want to admit it, she was right. They couldn't win the match if the Seeker's mind wandered off every second and the Snitch flew away forever. He inhaled deeply and counted to ten as they stepped inside the room.
Everyone's heads turned to the door when they heard it open. The Quidditch players were settled rather anxiously on the benches from what Harry could gather from their faces.
"Finally," spoke Mason, getting to his feet, "I thought you two skived off."
Ginny rolled her eyes, "Don't be an idiot. Did you actually think we would skip Quidditch?"
"And you were telling me to chill out," Harry said to Ginny out of the corner of his mouth and then turned to his team members, "Gather around, everyone." commanded Harry. His teammates gathered around in the changing room with determination but also apprehension on their faces. The boisterous noises all the way from the field echoed in his ears as silence filled the room.
When he spoke to his team, he pretended that Ron wasn't there so at least he would have somewhat focus in the most important Quidditch match of his life, but the fact that he was the tallest person standing was not contributing to his goal.
"…keep goaling your first priority but watch out for Crabbe and Goyle." Harry instructed Ginny, Colin Creevey, and Mason VanCuren, the Chasers of the team. Then he turned to Andrew Kirke and Jack Slooper, "This is our day, guys. Keep the Bludger away as best as you can. Pretend it's Snape."
Harry didn't give Ron encouragement and instruction and no one really expected him to. He was just about to round off his speech when he heard someone say something.
"We're late as hell."
Harry's neck cricked to the source of the voice and with no surprise, saw that it was Mason. He took a deep breath to control his emotions and said calmly to Mason, "That's alright. We can make a special appearance and hype up the crowd.
"I don't think that crowd needs more hyping up, but we do!" Ginny shot her arm in the air, "Come on team! We have to win this! The Slytherins are just a bunch of cabbage heads who can't tell the difference between Quaffles and cupcakes! We will definitely win!"
Only Colin Creevey cheered loudly at this, and without further ado, they headed out to the pitch in a scattered pattern.
The sun's radiant light hit Harry's face as he walked outside. The immense crowd whistled and hooted as the Gryffindor team came out. The Slytherins were standing in the middle of the field next to Madam Hooch with haughty expressions on their faces. Harry spotted a head of silvery-blond hair and he could just picture knocking Malfoy's teeth out, every last one of them.
"It's perfect weather." announced Ginny, as she straightened out her Quidditch robe.
She was right. It was the perfect day for a Quidditch match. There were no gusts of wind to push him off his broom or the pouring rain to blind him, but that didn't necessarily mean a good thing.
"It could be the calm before the storm. The storm being Slytherin of course."
"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine! Cheer up! Think positive!"
"I'll try." Harry kissed her and mumbled, "Love you n good luck."
He approached Madam Hooch with his Firebolt held tightly in his hands.
"Captains shake hands." she ordered, as Malfoy came face to face with him. With reluctance, Harry held out his hand. Malfoy shook it for about a half a second, giving him a vicious glare with it. I can't believe Hermione think he's good, what a-
"Mount your brooms…"
All fourteen brooms rose slowly as Madam Hooch released the balls and blew her whistle. And they were off. Ginny threw the Quaffle to Mason as Harry steered off to one side.
Harry soared across the border of the Quidditch field and took in the fresh air that felt refreshing as if he was on the peak of a mountain. It felt good to be back in the air and even though he didn't realize it then, all of the animosity towards Ron did fade away slowly.
As best as he could, Harry searched the skies for a glint of gold, often descending and ascending to get the full perspective. He stole a look at Malfoy for a second and perceived him doing the same thing on the opposite side of the field. For some reason Malfoy seemed to be flying slower than usual but his astute eyes were compensating for that.
A booming voice distracted him from Malfoy and it was Dennis Creevey with the commentary: "And Colin, I mean, Creevey throws the Quaffle to Mason, now back to Ginny! What a game this'll be! Oh-intercepted by Slytherin Chaser Wickam-"
Wickam, a tall and husky blond-haired guy, advanced to the Gryffindor Pitch and Harry caught a glimpse of Ron wavering left and right in front of the goal posts.
I hope he misses.
Wait, what am I thinking? He wanted to win and it was such bad luck to think that for the team. Ron could block it but the Quaffle should knock him out. Yes, that would fit perfectly.
"And Wickam's about to shoot as Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley readies to block-come on Ron!"
When Harry heard this, he smirked, knowing that the more Ron was encouraged into doing something, the higher the chance that he would fail.
Wickam hurled the Quaffle at the right goal hoop as Ron dived hard to the left. Cheers erupted from the Slytherin crowd but the Gryffindors settled down with disappointment written all over their faces and Harry knew why. Gryffindor was almost always the first to score. This was not a good omen.
The match went on for another hour and by then, Harry was ready to forfeit the game.
"The Slytherins score once again," announced Dennis in a monotonous voice, "The score is a hundred to twenty."
Harry felt like he was back in his 5th year when they had had their first Quidditch match of the season. Ron had done terribly then and he was doing terribly now. Harry had the urge to go over to him and give him confidence, but his pride overran that wish. No matter how much he wanted to make up with Ron, he wouldn't because it was Ron's fault that they had stopped talking, not his. He had not done anything wrong.
The adrenaline pumped back into him as he put all those thoughts aside. Harry hunted the sky for the Snitch like he had never before, zooming across with recklessness in great strides.
He was not going to lose to the Slytherins. Not a chance. His eyes riveted left and right for a catch of gold, but all he could see was the Gryffindors and Slytherins juggling the Quaffle. Come on, come on, where's the damn Snitch!
Suddenly, an unbearable pain seared across his forehead. He cried as a hand went to his scar to stop it. His body slid to the left and almost detached itself from the broom but Harry took both hands and took a firm grip on the broom.
Harry's scar was on fire, as if it was going to split apart his head into two. It hurt this much only when he was around Voldemort. Voldemort…What if he was around here somewhere? The Forbidden Forest…
Cheers rang out in the Slytherin crowd once again as Wickam scored. The score was now hundred ten to twenty and if Harry didn't catch the Snitch soon, they would lose.
He looked back and forth in frustration, and in spite of the game, he twirled to face the Forbidden Forest.
He stared at the top of the thick copse of trees but saw nothing unusual. His gaze trailed down to the barks and he doubled back. Squinting, he observed a dark shadow stir. Rested in midair, he looked even harder and caught a glimpse of the face he had not seen for three years. Wormtail.
Harry flew across the field to get a closer look of who he had just seen and make sure he wasn't having hallucinations. All of the voices and noises surrounding him ceased as he saw Wormtail's face. He was smiling. A wicked but cogent smile with his rotted teeth sticking out. He fluctuated his arms and made a circular motion with both of his hands as if he was using a method of hypnotizing.
Harry stayed there motionless on his broom, completely unnerved. A circular motion…did that mean-
"HARRY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GO!" Ginny shrieked from behind him and brought him back to reality. Harry swerved and sprinted across the field. Malfoy was way ahead of him and the Snitch was almost in his grasp.
Go, go, go! His Firebolt charged with energy and flew at the speed of a cheetah, dashing across the field until he was a few feet close of Malfoy.
He had to get it, he just had to. He was so close! Harry reached his arm out and grabbed a hold of Malfoy's robes regardless of the consequences. Malfoy increased speed and left Harry's arm in midair.
Harry's scar shook with burning pain but he ignored it and went after the Slytherin. The Snitch lay only a few inches from Malfoy's hand and Harry' anger riveted to the max, "NO!"
The broom seemed to have understood him because it darted forward until he was side to side with him. Harry went to shove Malfoy off his broom but something struck him first. With his wand sticking out of his robe pocket, Malfoy muttered a spell. A flame of blue light shot his chest, causing him to lose balance, and his body rocked sideways and loosened from the Firebolt. His eyes widened with surprise as he soared down helplessly. He felt his consciousness drifting away as a force winded at him and grabbed him. His body slowed down gradually but his eyes drooped until he knew no more.
Harry opened his eyes and witnessed patches of green grass in front of him. He was sprawled on the ground back face up and as he pressed his hands against the earth to get up, his body trembled and ached and thumped back down. He opened his mouth to utter a sound but nothing came out and it felt like his chin had cracked.
"Where's Madam Hooch?" Harry heard Ginny's frantic voice, and an unfamiliar voice said, "She's with Malfoy-"
"Dumbledore! Go get Dumbledore!" Ginny yelled, "He's not waking up! Oh god…"
As a sign of protest, Harry raised his right hand and smacked the ground a couple of times so Ginny would hear it.
Immediately, a pair of arms surrounded his torso and turned him over. Ginny's blurred and tear stricken face hovered above him and a slight smile appeared on her face as she saw Harry's opened eyes.
He glanced around with his body still flat on the ground and saw a fuzzy picture of people scrambled around him. Past them, he saw other people scattered about the Quidditch field. From what he could tell of the goal posts to his right, he was on the Gryffindor side of the field.
"Here." said Ginny, who was now sitting next to him, "Reparo!"
She handed him his glasses and he put them on. Harry made another attempt to get off the ground but it didn't work.
Ginny patted him and slowly put him back down, "Just stay still. Andrew went to get help. Where's Hermione when you need her…" She added as an afterthought.
"It's a good thing Ron was there to break his fall." Harry heard someone from the crowd whisper.
Ron saved him…from what? It took quite a while for realization to hit him. Malfoy…blue flame…the Snitch…the Snitch!
"Where's Ron? And did we…did we win?" Harry choked out.
"I don't know where he is. Oh Harry, I'm sorry, but-"
"Move it, move it!" a voice interrupted Ginny as the crowd around Harry dispersed. Colin Creevey and Andrew Kirke walked up to him, followed by a tall wizard with a snowy white beard.
"Professor Dumbledore!"
"Excuse me, Ms.Weasley." said Dumbledore. Ginny moved out of the way and he kneeled down next to him.
Dumbledore locked his eyes briefly with Harry. He looked past those crescent-shaped spectacles and frowned. There was something different about those eyes…he couldn't spot that lively glint in his eyes that he always had. But then he thought he was just being panicky from the effects of whatever spell Malfoy had struck him with.
"What happened? You did not fall flat down so what hit you?"
Harry coughed, feeling like his mouth was filled with dirt, and spoke, "A blue light, I think…"
Dumbledore nodded and it seemed that he ha figured out what kind of spell it was. Harry got that unusual feeling again and suspected that something wasn't right. It was just a natural instinct.
Dumbledore raised his wand, "Do not move while I articulate the spell, Potter."
Harry stared at the Headmaster for about two seconds before he realized what he had just said. That was the first time Dumbledore had called him 'Potter'. He always referred to him as Harry, which meant that…
"Ginny! Get him away from me! That's not-"
"Calm down." said Dumbledore serenely, and turned slowly to Ginny, "It must be the effects of the spell."
Ginny nodded and she knew not to protest against Dumbledore, but Harry did. He prodded his body to go up with all his might but red sparks from Dumbledore's wand made contact with him and he blasted back down.
All of the potential pain inside his body transferred straight to his head. Harry felt alert as if he'd drank a hundred cups of coffee. He bolted right up with wide eyes darting from Ginny to the crowd.
"Where's the Snitch? Did Malfoy get it? Did we win? Did we lose? We had to win, Malfoy cheated!"
Harry was on his feet and Dumbledore made no attempt to stop him. Ginny looked worryingly at him as she gave him half a hug.
"Now don't get angry Harry…but we lost…they figured out that Malfoy had the Snitch before he attacked you so they won."
"What?" said Harry with disbelief. They couldn't have lost, they were the best Quidditch team!
Harry parted from Ginny and took a few steps. Suddenly, a thought hit him, "Where's my Firebolt? What happened to my Firebolt?"
Ginny's eyes trailed to the Forbidden Forest and she didn't need to say it out loud.
Intense rage electrocuted through him. His Firebolt was destroyed. The symbol that represented Sirius's love for him was gone.
In a flash, his wand was out and he ran across the field in search of the bastard. He was dead.
Ginny followed him, "Harry! What are you doing?"
"I'm going to kill Malfoy! Where is he!" His head was ready to explode and he couldn't handle it. Harry had to get the anger out now.
"Harry, stop!"
He spotted Malfoy sitting on the front bench and approached him hungrily as if he was his prey. Malfoy's head turned to face him, fear spreading across his face, and stumbled up to his feet.
"Harry, don't!"
Harry pointed his wand at his enemy, and before Malfoy could move, Harry bellowed, "Crucio!"