Sorry this took forever to post; school started up so naturally I've been somewhat distracted.
Chapter 26: The Quidditch Cup
When Harry returned to the common room late that night, Hermione was awake waiting for him.
"How'd you know what happened?" he asked her, remembering that boys could not go up to the girls dormitories.
"I think everybody knows, Harry. But that's not important, what is important however, is what you saw. How did Voldemort get into your mind anyway? Haven't you been practicing your Occlumency?" Harry looked down at his feet; Occlumency had been the last thing on his mind for quite a while. "I see," she said, reading his expression, she sounded thoroughly disappointed in him. "But I guess we shouldn't go on about that; what's done is done. We should worry about the Serpent's Stone now."
"Dumbledore said there's nothing we can do," Harry said, and continued to explain the rest of what Dumbledore had told him. When Harry reached the point where Dumbledore had informed him of the possibility that he could have gone into Dark Magic, Hermione mouth hung open. She quickly regained her composure, however.
"You? Dark Magic? Never!" she gasped.
"Hermione, I don't think that's as important as the Serpent's Stone," Harry said.
"Oh…of course…but it's still something to keep in mind. I mean, imagine if you had gone into Dark Magic," she said.
"Let's not, because we both know that that would never have happened," he answered. Hermione nodded.
"What are we going to do about the stone?" she asked him.
"What can we do?" Hermione bit her lip.
"I…don't know," she sighed. "Wait to see what happens, I suppose."
Harry shrugged in agreement, though he didn't really want to.
"I hate it how we cant do anything…goodnight," he said, turning and heading up the boys dormitories.
"Goodnight," Hermione called from behind him.
In the days following Harry's dream there was a noticeable difference in the school security, Aurors were stationed at every entrance and at various points throughout the castle. Harry had imagined Voldemort to attack immediately, but as each day passed, he considered Dumbledore's theory that Voldemort was bluffing to might be true. Soon enough, Voldemort was somewhat driven out of Harry's mind by one thing: Quidditch.
Before he knew it, the match for the Quidditch House Cup was upon him. His team had practiced every night that week; they could afford to make no mistakes against Slytherin. Harry needed to win the cup, not only to defeat Malfoy, but also because Gryffindor needed the points to earn the House Cup at the end of the year. The morning of the match Harry found himself awake earlier than ever. Harry was feeling more than tense as the minutes ticked by on his bedside clock; this match was personal. He'd be face to face with Malfoy for the first time since the duel; sure he had seen him in classes, but never too close. Harry quietly got up and began to dress, careful not to wake his fellow Gryffindors. Once he had finished, he crept down to the common room and out the portrait hole. He knew that no one would be in the Great Hall yet, but decided to go there anyway to eat some porridge that was already prepared by the house-elves. Harry sat alone at the Gryffindor House table, quietly eating in the odd silence that rarely inhabited the Great Hall.
"Mister Harry Potter, sir!" it was Dobby.
"Hello, Dobby," Harry said to the house-elf. Harry had known Dobby since before his second year, which Dobby spent trying to send Harry home during by any means necessary. Dobby had proven his worth during Harry's fourth year by supplying him with the gillyweed that enabled Harry to participate in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament.
"Good luck today, sir! I hear Harry Potter is playing Quidditch today!"
"Yes, that's right."
"Good luck, sir!" Dobby said again. "Dobby hopes you do well, Dobby hopes to see Harry Potter play, sir, but Dobby can't."
"Why not?" Harry asked.
"House-elves are forbidden to see the games, sir. House-elves mustn't be seen by students." Harry's mind flashed to S.P.E.W. and couldn't help but chuckle slightly. As if on cue, Hermione came into the Great Hall accompanied by the rest of the team. Harry looked back to where Dobby was, but he had gone.
"Hey there, Harry. We couldn't sleep until a decent hour and we figured you'd already be here," said Neville as they reached him. Harry gave them a strained smile, suddenly feeling so nervous he felt as if he'd be sick. The rest of the team looked the same; everyone appeared pale and unkempt. The team sat down and started serving themselves some porridge, but Harry noticed that nobody was actually eating it.
"Eat up," he said. "We'll all need our strength today." Everyone nodded, but still couldn't seem to down more than a few spoonfuls.
They waited for what seemed like an eternity in the Great Hall for the other students to join them. Harry, having nothing better to do, stared at the ceiling, which reflected a bright cloudless morning. Slowly, students started walking in to have breakfast; many of them stopped to wish Gryffindor good luck. Whenever this happened the team could only nod or sometimes manage a kind of grunt in gratitude. When the Slytherin team entered, their house table erupted in cheers. Malfoy cast a smirk in Harry's direction and sat down between Crabbe and Goyle.
"Let's go," Harry said. His team rose from their seats and headed for the exit; many students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff joined the Gryffindors in applauding them as they passed. Harry put a smile on his face as they went by, but it quickly diminished as he made it outside. They put on their Quidditch robes in utter silence; the tension was suffocating.
"We'll be fine!" Ginny suddenly burst out. Everyone stared at her in disbelief. "What? We're the best ruddy team here!" It was as if she turned on a light; the team became energetic and ready for the match.
"Too right we are," Ron said. The team spent the remaining time they had left till the start of the game talking happily of their chances to beat Slytherin. Finally, Harry told his team to follow him onto the pitch.
The applause were deafening as the Gryffindors strode out onto the pitch. The Ravenclaw, Hufflepuffs, and most of all, Gryffindors were yelling loudly as they clapped to cheer on Harry's team. The Slytherins, however, hissed and booed; waving their green flags in favor of their own House team. The Slytherin team was already waiting in the center of the pitch with Madame Hooch. When Harry arrived, he did as he was told and shook hands with Malfoy, the entire time trying to maybe break one of his fingers. When the whistle blew, Harry set off like a bolt of lightening into the sky searching for the Snitch.
"And they're off!" came the voice of Dean Thomas. "Slytherin is in possession, moving up the pitch! Come on, Gryffindor, get the Quaffle!" Harry heard the voice of McGonagal scolding Dean for obviously being biased during his commentary. "So…Slytherin is moving up the pitch like any team should when they have the Quaffle. Gryffindor's Longbottem sends a Bludger towards the Slytherin Chaser! It misses by a hair…Slytherin shoots!" Harry could hear most of the crowd groan. "Slytherin scores," Dean groaned with absolutely no enthusiasm. "The score is 10-0 towards Slytherin as Gryffindor takes the Quaffle towards the goal posts. Brown is in possession…aw, Bludger sent by Goyle knocks the Quaffle and Frillet of Slytherin gets the Quaffle."
Harry looked down and could see the emerald blur that must have been Frillet racing up the pitch. Three scarlet streaks were close behind him.
"Gryffindor attempts to steal the Quaffle, but fails. Frillet is closing in on the goal posts…he shoots…Weasley saves the Quaffle. He passes it over to Brown…intercepted by Frillet! Frillet shoots again. He scores…20-0," he groaned. "Okay, Gryffindor has the Quaffle, hopefully they'll score, eh?" he muttered sarcastically. "Weasley has the Quaffle, she sends it to Granger…Granger throws it to Brown…Brown shoots!" another moan from the crowd. "Caught by the Slytherin Keeper. Slytherin now in possession, Jones is flying up the pitch with the Quaffle. He passes to Frillet; Frillet back to Jones…Jones shoots…and scores. 30-0 to Sltherin."
Harry could hear the excitement of the game slipping away from Dean's voice as Slytherin continued to beat them. Harry suddenly saw it; the Snitch was hovering directly below him near the ground. Harry dove, frantic to get there before Malfoy even had a chance to notice.
"Potter has seen the Snitch!" Dean yelled. Harry wished he hadn't; suddenly there was a Bludger sent by Crabbe coming straight for him. Harry rolled over on his broom and it went soaring past him. Another Bludger by Goyle came flying in out of nowhere and hit Harry squarely in the back. Harry and his broom did a sort of somersault, and in that time, the Snitch disappeared. Harry gritted his teeth as he once again gained altitude to look for the Snitch.
"The Snitch is lost during Potter's run-in with a Bludger sent by Goyle of Slytherin," Dean sighed, clearly disappointed. "Slytherin is in possession of the Quaffle…stolen by Weasley! Weasley is heading up the pitch…dodges a Bludger and shoots! WEASELY SCORES!" Dean had regained his manic love for the game and commentating as he announced the score. "30-10, still in favor of Slytherin! Slytherin has the Quaffle once again…Jones gives it to Frillet, Frillet back to Jones. Jones feigns a shot and passes to Frillet…Frillet shoots, come on Ron! Weasley dives for the Quaffle…but misses, Frillet scores…40-10 to Slytherin. Weasley passes it to the other Weasley. Weasley is darting around Bludger after Bludger! The Slytherin Chasers are closing in on her…go Ginny, go!"
"Mister Thomas, I am warning you…" came the voice of McGonagal.
"Ah, right professor," he said carefully. "Weasley is almost to the goal posts…she tosses the Quaffle over her shoulder to Brown! Brown shoots and SCORES! 40-20 to Slytherin!"
Harry smiled that his team was earning points, and continued searching for the Snitch. He saw it again, near the opposite end of the pitch where Malfoy happened to be. Harry didn't know what to do except go into another dive to hopefully distract Malfoy from the Snitch. It worked, even though another Bludger was pummeling Harry, he was smiling as it became obvious that Malfoy completely bought Harry's bluff. Once again, the Snitch was gone.
"Potter saw the Snitch, but it got away!" Dean announced. Harry squinted his eyes through the bright sun, trying to see the Snitch. "Jones in possession of the Quaffle…passes it to Frillet…Frillet shoots! Frillet scores again…50-20 to Slytherin."
Harry had a sudden, horrific idea: Slytherin winning the game. Harry had been so sure he could beat Malfoy the first time they dueled, and he had lost. This game could be no different…Harry eyes caught a glint of gold from halfway down the pitch. Snapping out of his dismal thoughts, Harry urged his Phoenix forward. Somewhere far off he heard Dean announce that he, Harry, had once again seen it. A Bludger was speeding behind him, coming quickly to catch up. Harry had no idea how to dodge it and not lose time. Harry rolled over and rode his broom upside down just as the Bludger caught up to him. The Bludger soared above him and streaked off. Harry rolled back onto his broom right side up, never taking his eyes off the Snitch. Somewhere off to Harry's right, Malfoy was trying to gain enough ground to get to the Snitch before Harry. But he couldn't; Harry felt his fingers clasp around the tiny gold ball.
"HE'S GOT IT! HE'S GOT IT! GRYFFINDOR WINS! 170-40…GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Dean was shouting at the top of his voice. Harry's ears were ringing as he slowly started to descend to the ground; the applause were enormous. Before long, Harry was grabbed into a bone-breaking hug by his teammates. They slowly went to the grass together, never letting out of their embrace. All three of the Chasers were sobbing while Harry swore he saw Neville wiping his eyes on his sleeve. The silver Quidditch Cup was presented to Harry, who gripped it tightly as his team picked him up over their shoulders. Harry smiled as they carried him past Professor McGonagal was crying happily and Dumbledore applauding politely. Students from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw crowded around the team, cheering and congratulating the team on their magnificent performance. For a single moment in Harry's life, he forgot about the war. He forgot about Voldemort, and he forgot that he was destined to either live or die at the hands of the man who had murdered his parents. For the first time in his life, Harry Potter was just a sixteen-year-old boy who had won the Quidditch Cup.