Chaser Potter did not think of himself as a violent person. But sunrise practice on a Saturday, well, it does things to a person.
Seeker had commiserated with his fellow player, as they jogged around the pitch, before Marigold joined the link and blearily asked them to shut up. Apparently, they did not have as much control over the link as they had thought.
Spellforged, who was jogging around the black lake just then, told them not to worry about it. When Chaser asked if he had finally joined the Ravenclaw team, he responded that no, he was just jogging because he had no training pits available to him. The shock that he would be up this early voluntarily was enough to get Rose yelling at them, too.
Finally, just as the sun was beginning to rise, Chaser reached the official's bench, where Wood was already waiting for them. "Can I talk to you, Oliver?" asked Chaser.
"Sure, Harry," responded the Gryffindor captain. Closing his playbook, Wood pulled Harry aside.
Once out of earshot of the team, Harry began talking about something he had overheard in the hallways. Apparently, the story went, Lord Malfoy was not confident in his son's ability to make the team - so he went out and bought seven brand new Nimbus 2001's for the Slytherin team. It would surprise no one to learn that yes, Draco Malfoy had indeed been given the position of seeker. Had he tried out? No, of course not, no one else tried for the position.
Chaser hoped that the story was as true here as it was in Rose's world, where the Malfoy scion had strutted around the Slytherin common room, bragging to all who would listen. He had stopped when Rose threatened to fold his precious broomstick in half and shove his new Nimbus 1000 and a half straight up his robes. As Draco had stood there, sputtering, the quiet Blaise Zabini had speculated that his future wife would probably have to compete with his broomstick for affection.
That comment broke the ice, earning chuckles even from the upper years who would normally stay out of such a conversation. It also sent the newly minted seeker fleeing to his dorm.
Idly, Chaser wondered who would keep his own Draco Malfoy in check. He had little interest in the job, but no one else seemed willing to step up. Add to that the fact that, for whatever reason, the boy seemed cockier than ever this year, and you have a recipe for conflict.
Oliver Wood looked at his team, considering their brooms and skills. The only open position on Slytherin had been seeker, hampered as they were by a head of house that let them keep girls from trying out. Short of injury or expulsion (or, occasionally, graduation), no one quit the Slytherin team. So they would have veterans, alongside their shallow bench.
And faster brooms. But fast brooms were not always the best choice. Beaters, for example, needed to hold a precise position to set up the correct shot on the bludger - for they did no good if they could not hit the thing in the correct direction. Chasers needed some speed, yes, but they also needed to turn on a knut, at will. That sort of responsiveness was hard enough on a standard broom, and it was damn near impossible when going full out on a Nimbus.
Only the seeker would be able to make the best use of such a broom, but even then they would need an almost instinctual level of control. Either you had it, or you didn't. Alicia had an eye for the snitch, and the iron grip necessary to pull off a sloth roll while reaching for the tiny gold orb, but she was overcautious in her turns at speed. When she made seeker, her uncle in the US had given her a Quodpot broom called a Starsweeper XI, and it worked fairly well - a good blend of speed and control, ideal for the faster pace of Quodpot.
But if she had to race, flat out, against the new Nimbus? The edge went to the Nimbus.
Wood gathered the team, all of whom had now returned from their run. Getting out the playbook, he began adjusting their plays.
oOoOoOoOo
Chaser was ready for the Slytherin team, when the snakes tried to take over the pitch. He had kept an eye on the locker rooms, so that he could see them approach. Rose's warning had helped, as well.
Seeker had Ron, Hermione, and Neville with him, just in case things turned nasty. Chaser took the opposite approach, and had asked his friends to stay inside. Susan had put up a bit of an argument, at first, before Chaser pointed out (correctly) that she would have to tell her Aunt if she saw him throwing hexes at Malfoy. And then Amelia would eventually mention it to James. And then Chaser's life would be forfeit.
Lord Potter was a loving father, who had taught his son to live by the eleventh commandment - Thou Shalt Not Get Caught. A fight on the pitch, in full view of Madame Hooch and others, was not in the cards today.
As Chaser came in for a landing on the grass, he heard a clicking sound on his left. Colin Creevey was taking his picture, again. He resolved to ask the first year for a picture of the upcoming confrontation, and Malfoy's face.
Wood and the others saw the Slytherin team walk into the stadium just as Chaser landed, the first to greet the six older players. With amusement, he noticed that Malfoy had followed behind them - hoping to shock the lions with their new seeker.
Chaser would have none of it. "Flint, you seem to have misplaced your seeker," said Chaser. Wood and the Weasleys had arrived now, standing beside him - waiting for trouble.
"No we didn't, Potter." Marcus Flint replied, sneering as only a Slytherin could. "Professor Snape gave us the pitch to get our new seeker up to speed."
Wood started to protest, but kept quiet when he saw Chaser's grin. "Mister Flint, perhaps your team does things differently - but in Gryffindor, we actually bring our players to the pitch if we want them to train."
Flint stepped aside, revealing Draco Malfoy in his Quidditch gear. The boy lost his smirk when Chaser began giggling. Fred and George, reading the moment, laughed as well. When the girls started chuckling as well, Wood had no choice but to grin himself.
"Oi, Potter, what's so funny? Think I can't beat you?" Malfoy almost hissed his retort, such as it was.
"Merlin, no, Draco. The only way you could get on the Slytherin team is if your dad bought Nimbus 2001's for everyone." Chaser sighed. "I out flew you on a school broom last year, remember?"
Wood saw Flint look at Bletchley, the Slytherin keeper. Both looked angry. Chaser saw the look as well, and laughed out loud.
"He did, didn't he? He bought his way on the team?" The Slytherin beaters both looked down at the Nimbus 2001's in their hands, a thoughtful expression on their faces. "Ha! I can't believe it."
"I earned my spot, Potter!" Draco snarled.
"When did you have tryouts?" Chaser spat right back. Draco went pale. "How many tried out?" Now Draco looked at Flint, whose reddening face was quite the sight.
Chuckling to himself, Chaser turned to Wood. "I guess that answers my question. Come on Oliver, let's let the rookie have the pitch. He'll need to learn the game if we want him to make it a fair contest." He could tell that Oliver wanted to fight, but Harry met his eyes and shook his head.
Reluctantly, the Gryffindor team collected their water bottles and their gear and made their way to the locker rooms. As they walked past the Slytherin team, Chaser saw Flint and Bletchley arguing heatedly, as the remaining two chasers talked animatedly with an upset Draco Malfoy. Whatever they were saying, the second year didn't like it one bit.
"Mischief Managed," Chaser said to himself. He did not notice the sudden look he got from the twins, who heard his comment.
oOoOoOoOo
The following Monday saw a very annoyed Susan Bones sitting at the Gryffindor table at lunch. Chaser and Neville saw her as they entered the great hall, and shared a look. Neville chuckled, before gesturing toward the table. "She's all yours, mate."
"Right, thanks Heir Longbottom." Chaser said with a chuckle. "I will remember your courage when next our Alliance stands together." Neville's laugh was the only response, as the Longbottom Heir went to the Hufflepuff table and the seat next to Hannah Abbott.
Not wanting to be in arm's length of his friend, Harry sat across from her at the table. "Good afternoon, Susan." Her glare caused him to wince - this would not be good.
She slid a sheet of parchment over to him. "I'm going to kill that man." Chaser looked at it, seeing the DADA quiz Lockhart had given them on Thursday. Susan and her fellow 'Puffs had their DADA class on Monday, which meant that their first session had been that morning.
"It could be worse, Susan," said Chaser. "I mean, he does have a winning smile."
She pointed a quill at him, and for a second he wondered if she could still cast a stunner with it, such was her anger. "You listen to me, Harry, DADA is the most important class here, especially for a certain young heir who wants to become an auror some day." She turned to the staff table, and saw that Professor Lockhart was busily chatting up Professor Vector, the Arithmancy Professor. She looked back at Harry. "And this peacock is going to waste an entire year teaching us about HIMSELF!"
There's really no correct response to that, thought Chaser. But he tried anyway. "You and I have probably learned more from my dad and your aunt than anything he would be teaching us," Harry tapped the quiz. "Even if he were a proper teacher."
Susan huffed. "So every Monday, I get to waste a double period reenacting his books?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But surely they would not have hired a total idiot as a professor, right?" Susan raised an eyebrow, and then nodded toward the quiz.
Before Chaser could respond, Hermione sat down at the table, book already open. It was one of Lockhart's works, though he could not tell which one. Really, they were interchangeable at this point, if he were honest. Chaser's eyes met Susan's for a moment, before the pair looked back at their friend.
"And a very good afternoon to you too, Hermione!" Said Chaser, brightly. Hermione looked up from her book, surprised.
"Oh, hi Harry, hi Susan." She closed the book, putting it back in her bag. "Sorry, I just wanted to be ready for our next defense class."
"You mean the one on Thursday?" asked Susan.
Hermione nodded. "Professor Lockhart has done so many things, it's hard to tell what story we'll hear next."
Susan huffed at that, but Chaser looked thoughtful. "Hermione, did you ever read the books they wrote about my life, when I was a kid?"
Hermione had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "My parents may have gotten some of them for me over the summer, yes."
Chaser smiled at her. "Great. Remember the time I fought off the Nundu in Kenya? The summer of by ninth birthday?" She nodded; that had been the first boy-who-lived book she had read. "Great, do you remember what it said for the dedication?" She shook her head.
"That's alright, I can quote it." He cleared his throat, getting a chuckle from Susan. "Quiet, you."
"Go on, then." said Susan.
"Fine. Whoever wrote the books dedicated them to their family or kids or whomever. But the series was "Dedicated to the victims of the Blood War - all of them, rich and poor, old and young, magical and not. Lest we forget." And then a portion of the profits went to the orphan wing at Saint Mungo's."
"That was very nice of you, Harry," remarked Hermione.
"Dad thought so - and so did his solicitor, when we had to sue the publishing house." He chuckled again. "See, some bright lad in an office decided to start putting out short stories about a young wizard's adventures in the world. And when I was hailed as the boy-who-lived, well - he knew he had his hero. The fifth book was already out before we learned of it."
"But, didn't they come out with more than five of them?" Hermione asked.
"Of course they did - but every copy, and reprints of the first few, now has a big old disclaimer. 'This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely accidental. None of what you are about to read ever happened.'" Harry spread his hands out in an exaggerated shrug. "Despite all that, including a letter to the Prophet from Lord Potter himself, some people still think I fought off a Beholder alongside the Norse Pantheon, or visited Atlantis with Newt Scamander, or whatever they came up with after that."
Hermione was lost in thought, so Susan decided to take the bait. "What does all this have to do with Lockhart, Harry?" She asked, a smirk on her face - she knew the answer.
"Professor Lockhart, Susan," said Hermione, automatically. She was watching Harry.
Chaser looked back at Hermione, and then tapped the quiz. "The books about my life were nonsense, but ultimately harmless. And rather than putting the writers out of work, we used them to raise money for charity. Professor Lockhart, on the other hand, has done no such thing."
"You mean…" Hermione was shocked at the accusation.
"I do." Chaser looked at her evenly. "Look through his books. Some of the incidents he describes have known dates and places, documented in the Prophet. Maybe the Quibbler, if a creature was involved. But go over those dates and places, because I'll bet five galleons you find two of the good Professor's adventures that happened at the same time."
"That's not possible," said Hermione, looking less sure than she sounded.
"No," Chaser agreed. "It's not."
oOoOoOoOo
"Do you think she'll do it?"
Susan and Harry were walking toward the rear of the castle, where they would walk outdoors for the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff session of Herbology. They had left Hermione with the assurance that yes, Madam Pince had access to back issues of the Prophet.
Chaser shook his head. "I think she'll dive into what looks like a research project. But I can't tell if she is doing that to prove us wrong or to confirm what we think happened."
Susan chuckled at that. "Does it matter?"
"No, probably not." He eyed her, thoughtfully. "Though it might get interesting if a certain Head of the DMLE heard about some of the concerns Hogwarts students were raising about the appointment of Mister Lockhart."
"Oh, oh really?" said Susan.
"Yep," Harry replied.
"I did tell her I'd write her," Susan continued. "Maybe I'll mention it tonight." Then she realized that Chaser was not next to her anymore, and turned to see the gryffindor frozen in place. "Harry?" she asked.
He looked very pale. "Do you not hear that?" he asked.
"Hear what?" She walked back over to Harry, who was looking up and down the corridor. He could hear the movement, hear the hissed words.
Rip, tear, feast…
Almost without thinking, Chaser summoned his mage sight using the incantation he had learned over the summer. Nothing was amiss in the hallway, nothing was there that should not be. The walls, in particular, were normal. He could still hear it, however, a soft scraping sound moving along the wall, along with the quiet words of something enormous. Something that was clearly hungry.
Chaser continued to look for the source of the noise. "That sound…" He looked at Susan. "There's something in the bloody walls."
A/N: The response to this story continues to amaze me - over 200 Follows, 114 Favorites, 123 reviews. Thank you, to every one of you, for reading and enjoying this story. Even if I don't get a chance to respond directly to your review, know that your feedback is always appreciated. Don't forget to tell your friends.
I posted a side story in July called Inside Man, which was well received. I've since added a follow-up, called The Prisoners' Tale, focusing on that version of Harry Potter and his, er, companion, as they try to rebuild their lives. Infrequent updates are planned, so no worries about taking time from this story to work on that one. Feel free to have a look, if you want an alternate take on the boy-who-lived.
Feedback, as always, is welcome.
