Hey im back. i still dont feel very good but its been a while since ive been on here so i figured id put up another chapter. its kinda short but im still in a lot of pain. anyways here u go.


Chapter 13 The Final Quidditch Final

"Nervous, Harry?" asked Lupin the day of the last Quidditch game of the season and Harry's last game at Hogwarts.

Harry was silent a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie and say he wasn't or tell the truth. He settled for the latter. "Yeah," he laughed.

Lupin clapped him on the back and chuckled. "Don't be. You've got nothing to worry about, except the weather of course."

Harry knew he was right. He'd drilled his team harder than anyone thought possible. He believed they were ready but again he was not looking forward to playing in these conditions. The weather seemed to have something against Gryffindor winning the cup this year. It was almost exactly as it had been the day Mark had filled in for Harry.

"Trust me, your father would be proud," finished Lupin with a pained expression. He looked at Harry a moment and sighed before striding away.


"Captains shake hands," shouted Madam Hooch. Harry stepped forward and tried not to get blown away. He extended his hand to Malfoy and was surprised at the cold way it was received. Harry knew he wasn't acting. Apparently Malfoy wanted to win this match.

Watching for the whistle to be blown, Harry mounted his broom and tried to kick some of the mud and muck off his soggy shoes. The whistle went to Madam Hooch's lips and Harry kicked off hard from the ground.

Harry straightened his broom and soared higher. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Malfoy shooting off down toward the other end of the pitch. Harry made sure he wasn't zooming toward the Snitch and then turned back to his own search.

For a moment, Harry thought he heard a roar rise from the crowd. He flew over to Ron who was guarding the goal posts and didn't have much to do at the moment. "Who scored?" Harry shouted.

"Dennis, I think!" Ron bellowed back.

Grinning, Harry once again set off through the pelting rain. He searched high and low for near half and hour, every once in a while pausing to vent his feelings depending on who scored, before he spotted a tiny glint of gold near the ground. Making sure Malfoy wasn't near, he dove toward the ground at top speed. Paying attention to nothing but the sound of the wind rushing by his ears, Harry reached forward with one hand but over balanced. He flipped over the end of his broom and rolled head over heels through the mud.

Sitting up, he stared at his hands in his lap. He didn't move for a moment and play continued above him. Opening his hands, he saw the tiny Snitch lying in the palm of his hand. Slowly he raised it up over his head.

At first no one noticed him, but as he finally made it to his feet, a dull roar started in the Gryffindor section and worked its way around the stadium. As his teammates heard the cheering, they looked down to Harry, covered from head to toe in muck and mud, waving the Snitch over his head.

Harry suddenly found himself being pelted by scarlet blurs. Ginny was kissing him; Hermione was hugging him and jumping up and down, squealing shrilly in his ear while Ron thumped him on the back. All the while, Harry stared in disbelief at the Snitch in his hand.

"We've won, Harry!" Hermione screeched joyfully.

"What?" Harry asked quietly.

"You did it! We've one the Quidditch cup!" Ginny exalted.

"I did?" Harry asked dumbfounded, as the cup was passed to him. "We did!" he shouted after a moment.