Part Eight

Erin, Ron, Hermione, Dean, Neville and Seamus sat in the stands with a sheet that they had painted that said 'Potter for President'. Dean had drawn a Gryffindor lion beneath it and Hermione had performed a charm to make the paint flash different colors. They finally came out. "GO, HARRY!" Erin yelled. He looked toward them and they all waved. He waved back a little as the players lined up for the balls to be released. Madam Hooch was refereeing, she blasted her whistle and they were off. They saw the Snitch for a second before it zoomed off. Lee was commentating.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is and rather attractive, too—"

"JORDAN!" McGonagall was right next to him.

"Sorry, Professor." He cleared his throat. Angelina still had the Quaffle. "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—"

"An eagle on its last wings." Erin said and everyone laughed.

"—He's goin to sc—no, stopped by an excellent move by 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 by a Bludger—Quaffle taken by 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—"

"YEAH! GO, GEORGE!" Erin yelled. She was sure most of the stands must have heard her, because there was some laughing going on.

"—Yes, nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, who I now know is George Weasley, thanks, Erin! Anyway 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, Angelina—Keeper Bletchley dives—misses—GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

They all cheered. "ANGELINA!" They chanted. "ANGELINA! ANGELINA!" She looked a little embarrassed but kept her composure.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!" They called as they squeezed together to make room for him. Erin couldn't help herself and she hugged him.

"Oh, off with ye now!" Hagrid said growing red. "Bin watchin' from me hut. But it isn't the same as bein' here in the crowd."

"Heard Erin at your hut, did you?" Ron asked.

Erin smiled blushing. "I'm not that loud!" she protested.

"As a matter of fact, yes." He said. "Healthy set o' lungs, there."

"Slytherin in possession." They looked back at the game. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the—wait a minute—was that the Snitch?"

Adrian Pucey had dropped the Quaffle because of the little gold ball flying past him. Harry and the Slytherin Seeker Terrence Higgs had both dived downward toward it. "Go, Harry!" Erin whispered then started yelling. Marcus Flint had blocked Harry—on purpose! He made Harry fly off course. "WHY YOU NO GOOD, EVIL, BLOODY SON OF—" (The next words have been edited for the sake of impressionable minds that may be reading this.)—The others were arguing amongst themselves. Erin was yelling insults and Lee was slightly more heard with his comments. Professor McGonagall could silence him or try too, but Erin on the other hand, the closest adult was Hagrid and he wasn't about to stop her. "I HOPE YOU'RE BROOM SPLINTERS AND YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO SIT DOWN FOR A MONTH!"

"All right! All right!" People could hear Lee again. "Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Erin happened to look up. "Harry!" Her voice was almost non-existent. Harry's broom was bucking underneath him. Erin screamed; he was going to fall! She was sure of it! She couldn't say anything or do anything, except watch in terror.

"Slytherin in possession—Flint with the Quaffle—passes Spinnet—passes Bell—hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose—only joking, Professor—Slytherin score—oh no…"

No. Erin watched as his broom was carrying him up higher. "Hagrid, Harry…"

Hagrid looked up. "Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," mumbled Hagrid. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom…but he can't have…"

Erin gave another scream as Harry was rolling over on his broom again and again. He was only just managing to hold on. "HARRY!"

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus asked.

"Can't have," Hagrid said keeping a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Erin!" He felt her start to lunge forward. "Yeh can't do nothin'! Dark magic—no kid could do that!"

Erin watched Harry struggling with his broom. "NO!" She shrieked as the broom bucked Harry completely off. Hagrid had to pull her back again. Harry was still holding on by one hand though. Fred and George were trying to pull him to safety but the broom just went higher…without anyone on it…Erin closed her eyes. You can do it, Harry I know you can. Keep holding on! I believe in you, Harry.

Erin opened her eyes and thought Harry looked right at her before his broom stopped and he was able to swing back on. Erin cheered. Harry was suddenly speeding toward the ground. He clapped his hand over his mouth and then coughed…something gold fell into his hand…"YEAH! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!"

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee shouted. "170 to 60!"

Hagrid knew that all of them needed a nice cup of tea and invited them back to his hut for one. Harry caught up with them on the way. They sat down at Hagrid's table while he poured the tea. "I don't know who needs it more, Harry or Erin."

Erin grinned blushingly and looked down. "What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Erin knew you were trouble, from the moment it began." Hermione explained. "I heard her cry out. She went all white and, I don't know, she didn't really seem to be there completely."

"It was Snape." Ron said. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing Harry's broom, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off it."

"Rubbish." Hagrid said. "Why would Snape do something like that?"

They all looked at each other. Harry sighed. "I don't know. Why'd he try to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween? It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

"Who told you about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?" Erin grimaced.

"That thing has a name?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, he's mine—bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year—I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—"

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"Now don't ask me anymore questions!" Hagrid said gruffly. "That's top secret, that is!"

"But, Hagrid! Whatever Fluffy's guarding Snape's trying to steal it!" Harry tried to make the man see reason.

"Rubbish! Snape's a Hogwarts teacher."

"Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a spell when I see one, I've read all about them." Hermione said. "You have to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking."

"Now listen, all four of yeh! Yer messing in things that you ought not be messing with! Whatever Fluffy is guarding is between Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel!"

"Nicolas Flamel?" Harry asked.

"I shouldn't have told yeh that…I should not have told yeh that."

"Who's Nicolas Flamel?" Harry and Ron were looking at the girls.

Erin shrugged and Hermione said, "I don't know."