Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
FIRSTLY: thank you guys so much for 100,000 views and 150 reviews!
SECONDLY: if anyone has any particular preferences for ships now would be a good time to say - to clarify, nothing will really happen until at least the end of fourth year. I can go down any route to be honest but I don't want to write this as a Harmione fic or Hinny - preferably Harry with a Ravenclaw/Slytherin.
"Today the final match in what has been one of the most tight-neck competitions in years takes place. Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff," Lee grumbled something under his breath about the lack of Gryffindor success, "are all still in the running to take the trophy home tonight. Currently, with a game in hand, Slytherin are in the lead on goal difference, but a Ravenclaw win today would guarantee their chance to win the trophy. Underdogs Hufflepuff will only be able to win if they completely thrash Ravenclaw who have so far had a perfect season, already beating both Gryffindor and Slytherin."
Ravenclaw - Hufflepuff matches were normally the least anticipated of the bunch. The two sides in the past had lacked the pure passion, or animosity of the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams, they were less likely to foul, less likely to pull of tricks, and preferred to just get the job done. Today, however, was different. The entire stadium was packed full of people, not a single seat empty as the entire school turned out to watch the match. Even Dumbledore sat atop the professors' tower.
The crowd was also firmly split on which team to support. Whilst it was clear that the 'Claws would support the 'Claws, and the 'Puffs would support the 'Puffs, the other two houses each firmly chose one team. The Slytherin contingent was amusingly decked out with yellow and black signs, roaring badgers and chants of 'o Diggory, my Diggory' or some slightly more crude ones insulting the Ravenclaw team. The snakes knew that a Ravenclaw win meant that their winning streak would be over, whilst a 'Puff win - unless the Hufflepuff team won by some freak score line - would lead to Slytherin retaining the house cup, yet again.
The Gryffindors, whilst not personally invested in the same way, were anxious to see Slytherin get knocked off their perch. It was always nice when the reds supported your team, they were easily the loudest bunch and surprisingly creative too. Dean Thomas, who Harry was quite friendly with via Art club, had drawn a huge eagle (the Ravenclaw mascot) beating the crap out of a badger, which was definitely amusing to see.
Grant Page and Cedric Diggory shook hands and Madam Hooch, who was refereeing the match, released the balls. Harry didn't even bother to watch the snitch - he'd done that in his first few games, and later realised how futile it was - instead choosing to stare down Diggory as menacingly as he could manage. Diggory just smirked. Asshole.
"I know I'm pretty Reynolds, but don't you know, it's rude to stare."
"Very cocky for someone who's about to lose their... twelfth? fourteenth? I've lost count... quidditch tournament." Hooch blew her whistle and Harry flew up and away, trying to get a better vantage point where he could seek the snitch. He knew that the best game plan would involve him winning it early - all Ravenclaw needed was a win. That would guarantee them the trophy, but it would be better if Hufflepuff scored less points - just in case.
"Cadwaller, Applebee, quick pass back to Cadwaller who opens up his arm to shoo- OOF! What a tackle by Ravenclaw's captain and keeper Grant Page, who rushed forwards out of his goal to win the ball for his team - reckless, but it paid off - now Ravenclaw are counter-attacking.
"Davies with the ball, feints to the left and easily turns past Applebee, Davies to Chang, who quickly moves it on to Stretton, who ducks to avoid the bludger which Inglebee quickly picks up, firing it at Hufflepuff's keeper causing him to duck - OH! What a play! The bludger distracts the keeper whilst Stretton neatly places the ball into the right-side goal. 10-nothing, Ravenclaw lead."
The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors leapt into an applause as the Slytherin and Hufflepuffs groaned into their seats.
The score was 110-80, Ravenclaw's chasers combining effortlessly to take the lead. It was the first time they had ever performed so well together, they seemed to finally connect, and had a good passing chemistry which cancelled out the rugged, and tired Hufflepuff chasers. Harry was completely convinced that their lead would only broaden over the rest of the game, and if the snitch didn't make a premature appearance they would be able to win it even if Diggory beat him to the snitch. Not that Harry would let that happen.
Lee Jordan seemed to agree: "The Ravenclaw chasers are flying rings around Hufflepuff, if it stays like this its looking like Ravenclaw will have a perfect season, and finally beat those damn snakes to the cup." He sounded positively gleeful, dancing around in his little commentary booth as McGonagall looked on with pursed lips clearly divided on whether to reprimand Lee or not.
"Ten more points and Diggory catching the snitch would be suicide." Lee continued, alluding to the goal difference that Hufflepuff needed to even come second.
At these words Diggory's back visibly straightened, his eyes snapping around almost violently as he looked for the snitch. Then, suddenly, with a sideways glance towards Harry he zoomed towards the Ravenclaw's goal.
Harry's eyes darted around the area Diggory was flying towards, but he couldn't find even a speck of gold. He couldn't see the snitch Diggory was racing towards. If Diggory caught the snitch now Slytherin would win the trophy, but despite the growing anxiety bubbling in stomach Harry didn't move.
"Diggory's shooting off like he's seen the snitch, racing towards Ravenclaw's own goals, with Reynolds nowhere near him..." Lee trailed off, mumbling incoherently under his breath. "Where even is Reynolds?" He asked. "Fucking hell Reynolds." He cussed loudly even as McGonagall forcibly dragged the microphone away from him.
Suddenly Harry could feel the entire stadium's eyes on him. The Slytherin contingent jeered gleefully whilst the Hufflepuffs cheered for their captain. Then Diggory abruptly pulled up.
"Diggory stops. Has he got the snitch?" Lee reclaimed the microphone, ignoring the rest of the team as Cho Chang slotted a Quaffle into the left goal. The scoreboards flipped over: 120-80. "I don't believe it!" Lee Jordan exclaimed as the crowd buzzed around him. "Diggory does NOT have the snitch! He was feinting." He half-screamed in excitement, his hope of the Slytherin dynasty dying resurging.
Harry surveyed the field, but he still couldn't see the snitch. Diggory returned to higher ground with an unattractive scowl forming on his face.
"Ravenclaw force a change of possession, Davies to Chang to Davies to Stretton... GOAL! Ravenclaw lead by fifty."
Fifty turned to sixty, which soon turned to seventy then eighty. The old scoreboard creaked the new scores over which seemed to be changing every minute. Hufflepuff looked exhausted as Ravenclaw looked energised. "170-90. Ravenclaw are completely dominating a deflated Hufflepuff. Well... there's always next year guys." He said, addressing the Hufflepuff contingent who looked half-depressed, some with their hands in their heads as they watched what was now becoming an embarrassing display.
The Slytherins were the only ones still cheering on their players, aware that if Diggory still caught the snitch now that Slytherin would win. Ravenclaw would have to fight to the end to get the cup - their cup.
Harry quickly ducked out of the way of a bludger, sent his way by a increasingly angry Hufflepuff beater. That was when he saw a gold glint in his peripheral.
The race to the snitch was realistically only thirty seconds, but as Harry flew, neck to neck with Cedric Diggory it felt like hours. He could hear the crowd roaring in excitement as him and Diggory jostled for the lead. Lee Jordan's profane commentary was so loud it felt like the microphone was right by his ear.
"Reynolds catches the snitch to win the Quidditch Cup for Ravenclaw - their first trophy in six years! Mere centimetres between Diggory and Reynolds as he reaches hold of the snitch, the Ravenclaws unbeaten this season as Slytherin is pipped to the cup." Lee moved the microphone away from his mouth but everyone in the stadium could still hear his shouts of joy at Slytherin's reign ending.
The small golden snitch fluttered angrily in Harry's hand, its wings beating furiously against his palm as he clutched it tight holding it up in the air for the entire crowd to see. They'd won. He'd won.
Harry's euphoria at winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Cameron had snuck down to Hogsmeade and gotten multiple boxes of Butterbeer (and some Firewhisky for the older students) which, despite their best efforts, the 'Claws hadn't managed to finish on the first evening. This had seemed like a good excuse to continue the festivities on Sunday... then Monday... then Tuesday and so on. In fact it had taken until the following Sunday for Flitwick to not come rushing over to the Tower and send them all to bed. Unfortunately for the Charms professor, the Ravenclaw tower wasn't an easy trip from his office and his short legs didn't make the journey any easier, which meant the 'Claws only had to wait five minutes until he'd stumbled back down stairs before they could resume their celebrations.
Then the realisation that exams were impending had hit and any jubilation had been beaten out of the Ravenclaws in the form of Potions essays and Charms practice. This had driven Terry into full-blown exam mode - which for the brunette meant three cups of coffee a day, broken quills from stress and extremely detailed and structured revision timetables.
Harry had, on multiple occasions, been driven to the library to spend time with Neville - who was hiding from Hermione - though that was usually accompanied by Ron, who Harry found less than calming. He also wasn't helpful for Harry's endeavours, not to be skiving from revision, but to work in peace, and be able to be calm without frantic mutterings and textbooks being angrily hurled at walls (or heads) - something which was surprisingly common in the Ravenclaw tower. Ron however preferred to vent about how 'insane' Hermione was for wanting to revise so excessively, as well as confused rants about how many subjects she was taking - something Harry also didn't understand, he just didn't care enough to want to find out.
This meant that whenever Ron was with Neville, Harry went over to the Slytherins instead. He'd become quite fond of them - well, the ones who studied in the library anyway. Daphne, Tracey and Blaise all brought a calming energy with them, and approached revision in the same way Harry did. Seriously (unlike Ron) but calmly (unlike Terry, or Mike) and regularly (unlike Anthony - he was the king of leaving things to the last minute).
Though occasionally Tracey and Blaise did get distracted into gossiping about Slytherin sixth years or magical bands. Harry and Daphne would always exchange a bemused look and return to their textbooks. Sometimes Malfoy would join in, sitting at their table - he didn't talk much. Harry got the impression Malfoy was almost intimidated by him.
To be fair, Harry did break his nose.
It was a similar set-up today, the five of them occupying a large table in the library across from a frantic group of Hufflepuff fifth years, preparing for their OWLS which started on Monday - tomorrow. "Heard your dad was coming to school." Blaise said, cracking his knuckles as he leaned back in his chair. His quill was poignantly put away.
Malfoy looked up slowly, as though surprised Blaise was talking to him. "Yes. In two weeks." He answered shortly, before returning his attention to his notes.
"For that hippogriff's execution?"
"Buckbeak." Malfoy corrected firmly, his hand absent-mindedly rubbing his arm, where Harry could still see the faint scars - Madam Pomfrey's work was good, but not perfect. "And yes. Straight after our exams are finished."
"The sixth?" Blaise affirmed. Malfoy nodded.
"So Hagrid's appeal didn't work?" Tracey half-asked, half-stated.
"Obviously not." Malfoy said, before putting down his quill. "You know my father." He explained with a small shrug and the other Slytherins nodded. Harry too had seen Lucius Malfoy before, strolling the corridors of Hogwarts as if he owned them. He'd immediately sensed he was a despicable person, every conversation where he was referenced only seemed to reaffirm that fact. Even Malfoy himself had seemed to imply a certain distaste for his father back in Hogsmeade.
"Have you tried talking to him?" Tracey asked somewhat scornfully. "Explain that you don't want the hippogriff - Buckbeak - to be executed."
Malfoy turned to her, his eyes aflame in anger. "What do you take me for?" He spat. "Of course I have. I've told my dad," he hissed the title bitterly, "a thousand times how it wasn't the hippogriff's fault but bloody Goyle's, but he doesn't listen to me. Never has, never will. He just wants to assert his power over Dumbledore - get the creature killed on his own grounds."
"Sorry." Tracey replied, taken aback by the force with which Malfoy replied to her. Malfoy blinked furiously, before standing up and going to a shelf.
"No." Malfoy said after a pause, with a brief shake of his head. "I'm sorry. I'm not angry at you, just at him, and this entire situation." He walked back to the table and reached for her hand. "Forgive me?" He asked.
"'Course." Tracey replied, and a small smile finally worked its way onto Draco's face.
Harry always found it curious to see how the Slytherins interacted. There was always this underhand political element to every interaction, this need to make sure that any potential future political alliances weren't hindered by school ground squabbles. It was interesting, to say the least. Perhaps the equivalent to watching the kids of the highest MPs in parliament and CEOs of multi-millionaire companies interact at Eton. Slytherin was the house of the future Ministers of Magic, or department heads - or the likes of Lucius Malfoy who held seats on the Wizengamot and the Hogwarts' Board of Governors. The house of powerful people.
Not that they were the only house with powerful children, Susan Bones, a Hufflepuff third year, was the Head of the DMLE's niece. It was just that Slytherins approached each interaction carefully. Harry rarely saw them completely let their guards down - it was a secret challenge of his to get them to trust him enough to talk to him properly.
Then again, not every Slytherin did. Harry still wasn't sure how the likes of Crabbe or Goyle got into that house, they showed no sense of ambition, or cunning, only thick-headed comments and an astonishingly large appetite. At least Nott - whilst one of Harry's least favourite people in the castle - knew to not say insults to the wrong people, or in front of teachers, well, now they were in third year at least. In first year, as one would expect, they were more immature, and foolish.
"Two weeks." Daphne mumbled, completely detached from the conversation which had just occurred beforehand. "Two weeks and then we'll be free."
Two weeks later and the exams were over and they were finally free from the late night revision sessions, essays which made your hands cramp and bloody exam timetables.
It always seemed ironic to Harry that a year's worth of studying and homework, essays and practicals could be consolidated into an hour long exam which told you your worth. Though Harry had to admit, he did quite enjoy Lupin's lesson. Perhaps it was just that it was Harry's last exam, and he'd felt gleeful that due to his subject choices he finished his on Thursday morning, instead of Friday like the other third years who were taking Divination, Care of Magical Creatures or Muggle Studies.
The exam had been the most interesting though - Lupin's classes tended to be - for one, it had been taken outside. Whilst this might be expected for a Care of Magical Creatures exam, it was certainly unusual for DADA, and it only got more unusual from there. Lupin had somehow managed to combine every creature that they had studied this year (bar werewolves, of course) into an obstacle course.
They'd had to wade over a paddling pool with a grumpy Grindylow in, before crossing potholes, each brimming with Red Caps, fierce little creatures of only four foot who attempted to bludgeon anyone who crossed their abides to death. Next they had to bypass a Hinkypunk in a marshland - the marsh had proven to be the biggest contest there for Harry, who'd definitely chosen the wrong footwear - before climbing into a small shed and racing a Boggart.
The first time Harry had been introduced to one, near the start of the year in September, he'd been fearful that it would have been of Voldemort, or Tom in the Chamber, then he'd considered how dreadful it would be if it was something which revealed his identity, such as Dumbledore sending him off to fight Voldemort with his name on a tag on his chest... That would have been hard to explain. Instead he'd been faced with a blistering Vernon Dursley, in the peak of his rage. Initially Harry had been stumped as the class of Hufflepuffs and 'Claws watched on in confusion, but just before Lupin, who wore a sympathetic and understanding expression, stepped in Harry had said the magic words ("Riddikulus") and turned Vernon into a flowery beach ball.
He did a similar thing on Thursday, taking extra glee in transfiguring Vernon into funny objects, to the point where he had tears of laughter when Lupin came to get him. It had felt as therapeutic as his sessions with Dr Jackson. Though Lupin had initially been worried that he was upset from facing his abuser, he'd soon realised what had actually happened and all but told Harry he was receiving top grades - which had only made the day better.
His other exams had also gone quite well, except maybe Astronomy which Harry never had the patience for. His Cheering Charm had successfully brought Terry to a grin - which Flitwick was extremely impressed with, given the distressed state Terry was in from all the exams - and he'd managed to transfigure his teapot into a tortoise relatively well, though it still had the same ornate flowery patters to it, it wasn't as bad as Neville's which had apparently had a sprout for a tail. Herbology - whilst dirtier than necessary - had gone 'ok' with Harry successfully identifying the plant, but failing to remember he had to pinch it's root to stop it from emitting a slightly poisonous gas. He'd recovered well enough though - but he definitely wasn't getting an 'O'.
Arithmancy went relatively smoothly, with Harry knowing straightaway which one's he'd got right and wrong - something he later confirmed with Terry after the exam - whilst Ancient Runes and History of Magic took a similar route. Harry's Confusing Concoction had gone relatively well, though when they'd tested it on a toad the poor creature seemed a little bit too confused (he'd over stirred it).
The only thing which had been able to knock Harry's happy mood was when he saw Lucius Malfoy in the castle on the 6th, accompanied by a man who was almost certainly the executioner - his all-black outfit and long, sharp axe made him easily identifiable. He'd accidentally caught Lucius Malfoy talking to his son, in an extremely expressive, and furious-seeming conversation, the two arguing about something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on - though he heard them talking about Buckbeak, so perhaps Malfoy was trying to express that he didn't actually want the creature killed. Or perhaps it was just some little family squabble.
Either way, it didn't do any good. Anthony had come up to their dormitory with a mournful expression which didn't require any questions later that night.
"C'mon, this one's free." Terry opened the compartment doors. The train was always excessively busy on the final day, with excited first years running around and seventh years acting similarly, exchanging their final goodbyes to friends and year-mates who they'd spent the last seven years with - some whom they'd likely never see again.
The four loaded their trunks on the racks above and sat down. "I think Peru's going to win." Michael resumed their conversation. The group stages for the Quidditch World Cup had just been announced, with the actual tournament due to start in a week. For the first time in decades it was going to be hosted in England.
"No way." Harry rolled his eyes, there was no way Peru was going to win. "They've got great beaters, sure, but the likes of Brazil or Ireland would fly rings around them."
"So you're placing your bets on..?" Terry asked.
"Brazil. Their chasers are better than Ireland, so unless they get unlucky with an early snitch catch they'll probably win."
"Hey," Blaise greeted, peering his head in. "everywhere else is full."
"Alright." Terry answered the unasked question, moving up in his seat to allow room for the Slytherins. Anthony glared at Malfoy as he tentatively walked in, still upset about the hippogriff situation.
"What were you talking about?"
"Quidditch World Cup. Mike thinks Peru's going to win."
"My bet's on Scotland - after last time they're going to be even more anxious to win." Blaise replied, referencing the 1990 cup, in which Scotland reached the finals to play against Canada. The finals had lasted five days, amassing unprecedented score totals and ending in Canada's victory.
"No way, now that Finnick's retired they stand no chance." Mike shot back. Finnick was the previous Scotland seeker and captain, widely believed to be the best seeker in the world before he retired after the last Quidditch World Cup.
"Besides, teams which revolve around seekers rarely win - no offense Harry - the more important players are the chasers and the keeper. Especially if it's a long game." Terry affirmed, clearly agreeing with Mike who looked surprised - the two normally disagreed on everything. A small grin crept onto Mike's face.
"Who do you think's going to win Draco?" Blaise asked the blonde who'd been pensively staring out into the corridor.
"Huh? Oh right. Brazil, maybe Ireland if Moran starts playing well again."
Terry laughed. "That's what Harry said." Hedwig hooted, giving Harry an excuse to turn his attention to the cage and her piercing amber eyes. Malfoy shuffled uncomfortably - they were still a bit at odds. Probably always would be... some people are just destined to not get along.
"How about Bulgaria?" Daphne asked. "I've heard they've got a new seeker."
"Krum." Terry said wistfully. "He's the next Finnick - maybe better. But," he sighed, "seeker driven teams never win the cup. You can't get lucky that many matches in a row." Hedwig hooted again, this time more insistent.
"Okay, okay - fine!" Harry raised his hands in defeat. He walked over to the window, opening it, before going back to Hedwig's cage. "Meet me at my dad's, ok?" Hedwig pecked his fingers affectionately before flying off into the roaring greens of Scotland's highlands. "I still can't believe you've all got tickets to the final."
"Not all." Tracey replied.
"Didn't you turn doing going so you could holiday in Spain?" Harry asked pointedly and Tracey just shrugged with an amused grin.
"I'm sure it will be just as fun listening to it on the radio..." Terry jested, but there was a glint in his eyes as if he knew something Harry didn't. "It will be as if you were right in the stadium..."