To Mikol- You have got to be my most faithful reviewer. I need to make you an award or something. You mean there's a computer with internet access in your very own house? You lucky little something-or-another! I have to march my happy ass to the next apartment complex over and use the computers in their community center! And I can only go Wednesdays, between 2:30 and 5:00 PM!
"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I-"
"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."
Under normal circumstances, Duo would have found the look on Harry Potter's face hilarious, but Professor Snape always seemed to suck the fun out of things.
"Where's Professor Lupin?" Harry asked without moving.
"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," Snape said with that weird-looking smile of his. "I believe I told you to sit down?"
"What's wrong with him?" Harry ask, and Duo wondered if the kid was trying to get himself detention.
"Nothing life-threatening. Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."
Harry sat, Snape made snide comments about Professor Lupin, and Gryffindor rose up as one to refute him in the voice of Dean Thomas. Duo decided there was definitely something wrong with British people.
"Today," Professor Snape informed them, "we will discuss werewolves."
"But, sir-" Hermione protested, half-rising out of her chair before Duo could restrain her. "Sir, we're not due to start-"
"Hermes, be quiet!" Duo hissed, pulling her back into her seat by the neck of her robes.
"Miss Granger," Snape said in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394."
Duo did so with a sigh. Apparently, werewolves weren't as big a problem in Great Britain as they were in the good ole US; Duo had learned all he needed to know about werewolves before he even started school.
"Which of you can tell me how to distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" Snape asked. Duo debated raising his hand, but Hermione beat him to it. Again.
"Anyone?" As usual, Snape was ignoring Hermione. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between-"
"Give it a rest, Professor." Duo heard himself saying. "They don't know, and insulting someone who's not even here to defend himself isn't gonna make them suddenly learn."
He could have hit himself. He almost did, but he had to concentrate on Snape, who was towering and glowering and trying to look intimidating.
"I don't recall giving you permission to speak, Mr. Maxwell." Snape said slowly. "I must say, I am appalled at the lack of discipline in American schools."
"I'm more appalled by the conditions here." Duo informed him, not the least bit off-center from Snape's petty attempt at scaring him. "In America, we don't let psychotic snakes in human skin teach class."
The room fell silent, so quiet that Hermione's little gasp sounded loud as thunder.
"Detention, Maxwell." Snape said, unaware of the fact that he was only making himself look like a fool with his posing and posturing. "See me after class."
"It's a date." Duo told him with a smile. "In the meantime, don't you have a class to teach?"
Heero wasn't much for watching sports. He much preferred to play, but there were no openings on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Heero didn't like broomsticks besides.
Probably the whole school had shown up, despite heavy rain and strong winds that could knock you over if you weren't careful. The stands around the Quidditch field were packed with chattering students. Heero normally wasn't comfortable in large crowds, but it was highly unlikely that anyone would try to harm Harry in this mess; they'd probably give the weather first shot at it.
The teams, barely visible from the stands, shook hands and mounted, then kicked off to an inaudible whistle. Someone was probably keeping a running commentary, but he would never make himself heard over the storm, so the game was pretty uneventful for those in the stands. There was a short break when the lightning started, during which Hermione disappear and came back looking very pleased with herself.
It was nearly full night when the dementors showed up.
The roar of storm and crowd alike faded, dwindling to nearly nothing, and the temperature seemed to plummet to below freezing. Heero's vision clouded, grayed, cleared, and clouded again. His head began to ache, and he thought he heard someone talking, far away in the distance.
"I'm taking Mary for a walk."
"Meiran? Meiran! Answer me!"
"No! It wasn't supposed to be this way!"
"I'll take his name."
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead –"
Who- he didn't recognize her voice, but she was going to die. He wanted – needed - to help her… Who was she?
"Iria, don't go!"
"Solo!"
"I'm nobody."
"Not Harry!"
"See, Wufei? I protected your field of flowers."
"I love you, Father…"
"I'll be Duo now."
"Nataku!"
"Please… have mercy… have mercy…"
:Heero: Kero's voice penetrated the overwhelming horror and despair, drowning out the shrill, unfamiliar laughter and the screaming, and darkness claimed him.
"Lucky the ground was so soft."
"I thought he was dead for sure."
"But he didn't even break his glasses."
Harry could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was that every inch of him was aching as though it had been beaten.
"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."
Scariest… the scariest thing… hooded black figures… cold… screaming…
Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around his bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.
"Harry!" said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath the mud. "How're you feeling?"
It was as though Harry's memory was on fast forward. The lightning – the Grim – the Snitch – and the dementors…
"What happened?" he said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.
"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been – what – fifty feet?"
"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.
Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.
"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?"
No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into Harry like a stone.
"We didn't – lose?"
"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square… even Wood admits it."
"Where is Wood?" said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn't there.
"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."
Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.
"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."
"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.
"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points, right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"
"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.
"But if they beat Ravenclaw…"
"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff…"
"It all depends on the points – a margin of a hundred either way –"
Harry lay there, not saying a word. They had lost… for the first time ever, he had lost a Quidditch match.
After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.
"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."
The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron and Hermione moved nearer to Harry's bed.
"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away… He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him –"
"Then he magicked you all onto stretchers," said Ron. "Walked you up to the school. We –"
"All?" Harry repeated sharply.
"Yes," said Hermione, slightly taken aback. "You and Heero and Quatre all fainted. Duo had some kind of seizure, and Wufei and Trowa were looking pretty shaken when Madam Pomfrey sent them back to their dorms…" She glanced off to the side, at the bed next to Harry's, and he followed her gaze.
Heero looked even worse than Harry felt. He was pale under his tan, sweating and shivering at the same time, and he looked like he was in considerable pain. The blue-eyed kyree lay on the bed with him, and looked up to meet Harry's gaze. She blinked enigmatically, then turned to lay her head on Heero's chest, looking worried.
On Heero's other side, Madam Pomfrey was fussing over Quatre, who had apparently just woken up. The blonde's face was tear-streaked, and he was shaking violently despite protesting that he was fine. Duo wasn't anywhere to be seen.
Ron and Hermione were looking at him so anxiously that Harry quickly cast about for something matter-of-fact to say.
"Did someone get my Nimbus?"
Ron and Hermione looked quickly at each other.
"Er –"
"What?" said Harry, looking from one to the other.
"Well… when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.
"And?"
"And it hit – it hit – oh, Harry – it hit the Whomping Willow."
Harry's insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.
"And?" he said, dreading the answer.
"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It – it doesn't like being hit."
"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Hermione in a very small voice.
Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.
I'll just go ahead and end it where J.K. Rowling did.
Wow, this was a quick update. Only one week!
Review!
