Hey y'all! How's everyone doing?
So for those of you who were wondering, timeline wise, I'm doing a combination of the films and the books in that all the general events are there but the specific details and sequences of occurrence are the parts I'm messing around with. Mainly cause I feel like any school, magic or otherwise, worth their salt wouldn't immediately toss their students into the deep end until after doing syllabus and intro classes. But also cause this is fanfiction and I just felt it'd make more sense if some stuff happened at different times.
In regards to Seth's shadow charmer abilities, please remember that he's mentally 21 while in his 11-year-old body so he has a lot of control over his abilities now. He doesn't "fade away" because of his abilities and the shadows just make it easier for people not to notice him so they wouldn't notice him "fading away" either. Plus if he doesn't want to be invisible in the shade then he won't be.
As for everything else, I'm trying to establish a solid foundation first before doing more personalized touches and in-depth castle exploration cause I need a solid base before adding all the details in. Otherwise the whole thing will collapse and I'll just make myself confused while I write this. Hope this helps/made sense and doesn't sound defensive cause I'm really not trying to be and I really hope it didn't come across like that.
Like always, I enjoy comments, in fact I thrive off of positive comments and love constructive critique ones cause it shows an author that their readers are actually paying attention and enjoying their work. Thanks for reading this story! Virtual hugs and cuddles to y'all.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except any OC's that may come up, any world building that has not yet been officially stated by the books and any plot points/structures that have not been used in the books.
Warning: No beta, we die like Stingbulbs.
Chapter 7: Talk Quidditch To Me
XXXXXX
Seth rolled out of bed, muttering curses under his breath as his feet met the ice-cold wood floor of the dormitory. He looked out the window as he quickly pulled on socks, seeing the grey overcast sky and some frost fogging up the clear glass.
He went about his daily routine as the rest of his roommates slowly left the warm comfort of their blanket burritos. Thankfully as a Shadow Charmer, Seth developed a strong immunity to the cold. Unfortunately, that still didn't stop the cold from biting his toes whenever it damn well pleased.
A soft thud caught his attention. He turned to see Harry shuffling across the floor like some sort of snail with only his messy hair poking out from underneath his many blankets. Apparently he'd just rolled out of bed like that and decided it was too much effort to get up and walk to the bathroom like a normal person.
Now usually Seth would make some sort of joke because that's what friends do, poke fun at each other's weird habits. But considering it was November and thus, the start of the Quidditch season, he decided to cut the poor boy some slack.
The first match of the season was this Saturday, two days away - Gryffindor versus Slytherin - and a lot of expectations were riding on this game. If Gryffindor managed to win, then they'd automatically be shot up to first place for the House Cup. If they lost, then it'd take winning both games against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff just to break even with the point difference.
Also, despite everyone's best efforts, the secret of Harry being the Gryffindor's new seeker somehow leaked out. Probably because another student overheard an overzealous Gryffindor and then it only took a few days for the rumor mill to work its magic before everyone in the castle knew.
Harry was constantly being bombarded on both sides with people either wishing him the best of luck or hoping he'd break a few limbs.
Seth worked overtime jinxing students who got particularly pushy in their sentiments and making sure exactly how piss poor they were acting by treating an 11-year-old kid like the next Babe Ruth.
Ron spent most of his time figuring out new ways to drag Harry out of uncomfortable situations and being his emotional support rock.
Hermione was a welcome addition to their little trio, having relaxed her rule following stance ever since the Halloween incident. She would find informational books on Quidditch for Harry to read and hopefully ease his stress.
Basically, it was a lot of pressure on an 11-year-old boy.
On one side, you had the group of people being so encouraging it was almost suffocating as they eagerly awaited the chance to raise their new champion up into the air and say 'I did that!' As if their words of encouragement were what made Harry a better athlete and not the hundreds of hours of hard work that he put in.
On the other, you had the people salivating at the chance to tear the poor boy down. To find reasons to pick at all his fears and insecurities like a scab they refused to let heal over. They all acted as if it were a personal offense if their own house didn't win and it was all the team's fault cause they didn't try hard enough even though there were literally hundreds of thousands of variables that affected a sports game and didn't just boil down to 'I support this team that I don't even play on and thus they will win because of my support.'
All in all, Seth was really starting to get sick of it. He was never much of a sports guy anyways and now he really wasn't a sports guy. Honestly, what the school really needed was a free-for-all prank tournament instead of a house v house broom flying competition where the rules didn't make any logical sense.
But that would have to wait because Harry was now coming out of the bathroom looking like the walking dead. Mom friend duties waited for no one!
XXXXXX
Seth lounged on the couch in the common room, idly flipping through the pages of 'Jinxes for the Jinxed'. So far the pimple jinx seemed like a good way to deter teens and prepubescent kids from doing anything unsavory.
Acne was the enemy of youth after all.
Hermione was checking Ron and Harry's charms homework, leaving red ink marks across each incorrect answer. Ron was snoring away where he'd curled up by the fire.
Suddenly the portrait door slammed open, startling everyone out of their respective activities as they looked up to see Harry barreling in, hunching over to try and catch his breath.
"Where's the fire?" Ron asked, blearily staring at nothing in particular.
"It's about a couple inches to the right of your face, bro," Seth remarked, prompting Ron to look to his right and immediately scramble away from getting his face burned off. Ron threw the pillow he'd been laying on at Seth when he snickered at him.
"Is there something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, pointedly ignoring the other two boys.
Harry straightened up, took in a deep breath and blurted out all in one go, "I saw Snape getting Filch to help him bandage a really nasty bite mark on his leg and heard him complain about the three headed dog!"
"The three headed what?" Hermione asked, bewildered.
Harry looked at her like she just asked him a stupid question. Then he slapped himself on the head in realization. "Oh, right! You weren't there when all that happened. So on the night of the duel with Malfoy-"
"Which was a trap by the way," Seth interjected.
Harry gave him a dirty look that he shrugged at. "Just saying."
"Anyways, long story short, we ended up in the forbidden room on the third floor corridor where there's a trap door leading to something being guarded by a three headed dog."
"You were in the forbidden corridor!" Hermione exclaimed in alarm, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't tell the professors that you broke such an important rule."
"Because I know you're curious about what's hiding behind it as well," Harry retorted.
Hermione relented with a sheepish expression. "Fair enough. But what does that have to do with Professor Snape?"
"It means that he was trying to get past the three headed dog during Halloween! I'll bet he let the troll loose as a diversion while he swept off to steal whatever the dog was guarding!" Harry exclaimed.
Hermione's eyes widened. "What? There's no way he would. I know Snape's not a very nice person but he wouldn't steal something under Dumbledore's protection."
"Honestly Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," Ron snapped, "I'm with Harry. Snape's a greasy snake so I wouldn't put anything past him. But what's he after?"
Seth sighed in exasperation. "I think the more important question would be why the hell an established potions professor would decide to steal from Dumbledore. He wouldn't risk his position like that because I'm pretty sure the Headmaster of the school and greatest wizard to ever live would know who stole it the minute Snape got his hands on whatever it is. He was probably injured from checking on the defenses or something." He shook his head at them. "No, I think if anyone should be a suspect, it'd be Quirrell cause of that DADA curse."
"DADA curse?" Harry parroted back in confusion.
"Yup, I asked a bunch of fifth years about it when I overheard them talking Quirrel. They were hoping that next year's DADA professor would actually teach and not piss themselves from fright."
Ron frowned, brow furrowing as his brain worked overtime to figure out Seth's reasoning. "No way, it can't be Quirrell. He's such a coward that he's more likely to be eaten by the dog because he'd have fainted from seeing all three heads."
Seth shrugged. "Or he could just be a great actor. All the best conmen and thieves are. And no one would think twice about him leaving at the end of the year because all the DADA professors do anyways."
"Well I still say you're wrong because Snape is a greasy miserable git," Ron firmly rebuked.
"And I say that's a stupid reason to suspect someone of planning a heist," Seth retorted.
"Boys! Boys!" Hermione called out, getting their attention, "We don't even know what the dog is guarding so we can't make any assumptions as to who would actually steal from it. Besides, we should be focusing on helping Harry prepare for his first Quidditch match tomorrow."
And just like that, the conversation died as Harry immediately paled at the thought of the Quidditch match. He turned a little green as his stomach churned from the anxiety bubbling within him.
They spent the rest of the night trying to reassure the poor boy but that only seemed to make things worse. So they just gave up and called it an early night in the hopes that getting a good night's sleep would help him out.
XXXXXX
Much to everyone's disappointment, sleep did not help.
In fact, it probably made things worse.
The bags under Harry's were rather impressive and his pale complexion could rival any of the Hogwarts ghosts who flitted on by, doing absolutely nothing to help the situation.
"I hope you know how much we're betting on you to give Slytherin a good thrashing, young Harry," Nearly Headless Nick said, twirling his mustache with a serious expression.
"I may be a pacifist but even I grow tired of the Bloody Baron's peacocking sometimes!" The Fat Friar exclaimed, "I hope you'll be able to show them that their place is to be on equal standing with everyone else!"
The Grey Lady could care less about Quidditch but the Bloody Baron made sure to drift on by and glare at the young boy, the blood on his clothes displayed like an ominous threat.
Harry turned green as more and more people stopped by to give either threats or encouragement. It reached a point where the Gryffindor team would surround Harry like a protective shield and older students would send stinging hexes to anyone coming their way, be they friend or foe.
"You should really eat something, Harry," Hermione urged, shifting a plate of plain toast over to him.
"Or at least drink some water or pumpkin juice if you don't think you can stomach anything," Seth insisted, holding a goblet out towards him.
Harry gratefully took the goblet and a slice of toast. He chugged the pumpkin juice down and spent the rest of breakfast nibbling on the same piece of toast.
Ron, Hermione, and Seth could only glance worriedly at each other and hope for the best as they watched Harry leave early with the rest of the Gryffindor team.
"So where do you think we should sit to get a good view of the pitch?" Ron asked, scarfing down the rest of the plate of toast.
"We should sit in one of the middle stands so we'll have a wider view of everything that's going on and near the front rows so Harry can spot us if he needs the extra encouragement," Hermione suggested, delicately sipping at her pumpkin juice.
"Sounds good, but we'll have to be extra careful if we're sitting at the front," Ron warned, "Bludgers can get out of control real easy and sometimes players fly into the stands."
"I'm not gonna be joining you guys," Seth suddenly announced.
Ron and Hermione looked at him in shock.
"You're not going to support Harry at his first game? What kind of mate are you?" Ron asked, incredulous.
"Oh no, I will be watching the game but I'm not going to be sitting in the Gryffindor stands," Seth elaborated.
"Where will you be sitting then?" Hermione tentatively asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Seth hummed. "I was thinking of sitting with some other first years...in the Slytherin stands."
Ron spat out his sip of pumpkin juice. "You must be joking! You're going to sit with the snakes! How could you?"
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Hermione asked, highly concerned, "I know you've softened the houses a bit with your study hall table hopping...but interhouse tensions seem to be rather high when it comes to Quidditch..."
"And you'll get jinxed within an inch of your life by the other houses if they see a lion supporting the snakes!" Ron exclaimed.
"Which means it's the perfect time for me to do something like this," Seth rebuked, "Besides, everyone's going to be too busy watching what's going on in the field to care about a single Gryffindor in Slytherin territory. And I'm going to be sitting next to Draco so the Slytherins can't complain either."
"That's even worse!" Ron roared in outrage, "How can you even stomach sitting next to that little death eater in training?"
Seth deadpanned. "Uhh...newsflash, he's 11. What you call a death eater in training I call a spoiled little shit."
Hermione placed a placating hand on Ron's shoulder, giving him a pointed look. Ron deflated and pouted, grumbling petulantly as he returned his attention to his food.
She sighed. "As long as you know what you're getting into, we won't try to stop you. But I really hope you know what you're doing."
Seth gave the two a winning smile and thumbs up. "Don't worry your little heads off guys. I know exactly what I'm doing."
XXXXXX
As Seth slowly made his way through the Slytherin stands, ducking and dodging various jinxes and hexes thrown his way, all he could think about was that one bird meme he'd come across way back when.
The one that went 'The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math.'
Cause it was a calculated risk, he just didn't realize how much more calculation should've gone into it. He also didn't think all of the Slytherins who were not first years, would take this much personal offense to his red and gold presence in their stands.
Like come on!
This wasn't even the Quidditch World Cup or anything. None of the house teams were even recognized national teams so get over your petty little school rivalries, geez. The adult world could give less of a shit over which house won what competition cause that sure didn't pay the bills.
Finally, after dodging his hundredth something spell, Seth managed to make it to where the Slytherin first years were congregated. He plopped himself down between a surprised Draco and an unfazed Blaise.
"What in Merlin's beard are you doing here?" Draco hissed at him.
"Hello Draco, hello Blaise. Lovely weather we're having today," Seth greeted cheerfully, completely ignoring the bristling Slytherin.
"Hello to you as well, Sorenson," Blaise casually greeted. "Is there any reason why you're sitting here instead of with the other Gryffindors?"
Seth shrugged nonchalantly. "Just felt like it. Also, I have a feeling I'd get a better, more in depth lesson into Quidditch if I sit by you guys."
Blaise hummed thoughtfully. "Well, we do take our Quidditch seriously."
"And everyone would know that too if our team wasn't led by that spineless git, Flint, who lets talentless fools use their family influence to buy their way in," Draco grumbled.
"Are you planning to try out for the Slytherin team next year?" Seth asked, genuinely curious.
Draco scoffed. "Of course. Unlike half the team, I don't need to go crying to mummy and daddy just to get on. I'll be joining with my own talent and eventually I'll become the Captain and pick only the best of the best so then no one will be able to dismiss the talents of the Slytherin Quidditch team."
Seth whistled, impressed by the passion he was displaying.
Draco blushed in embarrassment and immediately turned his head away with a huff. "Why am I even telling you this? It's not like we're friends or anything."
"Wow. I never thought I'd meet an actual male tsundere in real life and yet here we are," Seth breathed out in joking awe.
Draco glared at him. "What in Merlin's beard are you blathering about, Sorenson?"
Seth waved him off. "Oh, nothing, nothing. So...anyone wanna give me the rundown of Quidditch? A crash course for dummies? Everything I've heard so far makes zero sense."
"Most likely because you've been relying on Weasley for such information," Draco sneered. "I'm surprised your brain hasn't rotted from mere exposure to him."
"So then educate me, oh wise and clearly superior pureblooded wizard," Seth mockingly bowed.
Before Draco could retort, a loud whistle rang throughout the pitch and their attention turned to the start of the first Quidditch game of the season.
"And the quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too," Lee Jordan, a friend of the Weasley twins announced before getting the stink eye from Professor McGonagall.
Seth listened intently as Draco explained the various team members and their positions on the field. He watched as Alicia Spinnet, a Gryffindor Chaser, rushed off with the non-flying ball until the Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint stole it from her with a sharp body bump. Flint flew off and tried to toss the ball in the Gryffindor hoops but got blocked by the Keeper, Gryffindor Captain Oliver Wood, who tossed the ball to another Chaser, Katie Bell.
"It's a quaffle," Draco explained, "The only non-magical ball in the sport. Every goal scored by it is worth 10 points."
"A quaffle? Who the hell names a ball a quaffle?" Seth asked.
Draco shrugged, turning his attention back to the action just as Katie got struck in the back of the head with a violent streaking ball. Slytherin retook the quaffle as Katie struggled to stay adrift and the magical ball went zooming back into the air with the express purpose of taking out anyone in its way.
"And what the hell is that?" Seth asked, a bit perturbed by the health and safety hazards zipping around violently through the air as the four Beaters smacked them back and forth like ping pong balls.
"That's a bludger, an iron ball enchanted to knock players off their brooms," Draco explained.
"And no one has a problem with having something that could clearly kill a player or even an audience member without hesitation?" Seth asked, a bit horrified. Cause what the hell? Even American football and fighting tournaments weren't this blatant about their violence. If a non-magical sports committee caught wind of this game, they'd shut that shit down and have it banned before you could even say 'quaffle!'
"It's always been like this," Draco explained, "No one ever really thought anything of it and safety rules are only added when it's clear that a certain element needs to be restricted. Besides, the risk of death just adds to the thrill of the game!"
Seth shook his head in disbelief. "You wizarding folk sure have insane definitions for thrill and safety."
Draco shushed him as a Slytherin Chaser, Adrien Pucey, sped off for the goal posts but was stopped by a bludger sent by Fred Weasley. Angelina was back in possession of the quaffle and she sped across the field like a bullet, tossing the ball that Slytherin Keeper Miles Bletchey missed by a mile.
The Gryffindors cheered loudly with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws joining in their applause. The Slytherins groaned and griped about how terrible of a keeper Bletchley was.
Seth frowned when he heard the clear favoritism of Lee Jordan as he announced Gryffindor scoring. Game announcers shouldn't be voicing such clear bias during games as that went against the neutrality of their roles. They should be quick and concise, detailing what was happening on the field for those who couldn't see while injecting a sense of humor to keep their commentary interesting. He shook his head. Nothing he could do about it now…but maybe in the future?
Seth lightly nudged a scowling Draco. "So is Bletchley one of those players who bought their way onto the team?"
Draco scoffed. "Of course he is. That dunderhead spends too much of his time trying to mess with opponents before matches instead of actually putting his energy into training. He thinks that by jinxing enough players on the opposing team, he'll somehow manage to get them to forfeit which is absolutely stupid and unsportsmanlike."
Suddenly a hush fell over the crowd as Lee announced, "Wait! Was that the snitch?"
Everyone scanned the field until their attention was drawn to Harry and the Slytherin Seeker Terrence Higgs going neck and neck for a small, flickering gold ball. Suddenly, Marcus pulled up and slammed into Harry, intentionally blocking him.
The Gryffindors booed and jeered at the blatant display of unsportsmanlike conduct. The other houses joined in jeering at the Slytherins. Meanwhile, the Slytherins were pretty evenly split on their reaction to the foul. Half of them jeered right back while the other half groaned and face palmed at their team's inability to shut down the competition without cheating.
Gryffindor took a penalty shot, scored, and then the game resumed. However, everyone's attention was fixated on Harry whose broom was jerking around violently, bucking back and forth to try and knock the poor boy off.
Seth snatched Theodore's binoculars from his hands.
"Hey!"
Theodore protested but they fell on deaf ears as Seth used the binoculars to see Harry clinging on for dear life as his broom went completely out of control. He directed his attention towards the nearby stands where his gaze fell upon Professor Snape, mumbling under his breath with unbroken eye contact directed towards Harry's broom.
Seth frowned, and then shifted his gaze to see Professor Quirrell with his head completely turned away. He was speaking with a shocked professor who was seated behind him and not even bothering to turn around to see what the commotion was all about.
Suddenly, the edge of Snape's cloak caught on fire and in his haste to quickly stamp it out, he knocked Quirrell over the bench and into a messy heap. Then immediately afterwards, Harry's broom was back under his control and he's zooming off into the air like it hadn't just tried to kill him.
"What the bloody hell just happened?" Theodore exclaimed.
"Potter's broom tried to kill him and now it's not," Draco responded, completely bewildered before growing angry. "Did someone in Slytherin house try to jinx it because I swear on Merlin's name, the only way we should be winning the game is by completely crushing the competition, not literally killing it."
"I don't know but I think Quirrell might've been jinxing it," Seth observed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Draco and Theodore looked at him like he'd lost his rocker while Blaise hummed thoughtfully. Suddenly a commotion on the field drew everyone's attention back to it. Everyone watched as Harry landed clumsily onto the ground, falling off his broom and landing on all fours. He coughed and dry heaved for a while before something gold fell into his hand.
"I've got the snitch!" Harry giddily announced as the entire Gryffindor team descended upon him.
They raised him high into the air as everyone in the stands cheered. Except for the Slytherins who sulked and pouted as Flint repeatedly protested over Harry having actually swallowed the snitch, not catching it. Regardless, Gryffindor won the match one hundred and seventy points to sixty.
"Whelp, that was fun. Let's do this again next time!" Seth cheerfully crowed as he slapped Draco on the back. "Thanks again for the crash course, please don't hex me as I leave."
He quickly bounded away before anyone could react, leaving the Slytherins a bit dazed and confused at the whirlwind that was Seth Sorenson, confounding Gryffindor extraordinaire.
XXXXXX
The quartet of friends sat in Hagrid's hut, each nursing a warm cup of tea.
"It was Snape! Hermione and I saw him muttering under his breath, not even taking his eyes off of you for a second," Ron said.
Hagrid frowned. "That's absolute rubbish. Why would Snape be cursing Harry's broom?"
"It's probably because he knows that I know that he's trying to steal from the three headed dog so he's trying to take me out before I can snitch on him," Harry explained, eyes widening as it all started to come together for him.
Hagrid jumped in shock. "How do you know about Fluffy?"
"Fluffy?" Ron exclaimed incredulously, "Who would name a vicious three headed dog Fluffy?"
"Well I named him, he's mine and he's a fine fluffy fellow," Hagrid vehemently defended, "I got him off a Greek chappie. Lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"
"Guard the what?" Harry eagerly asked.
"Never mind that, it's top secret so you can stop asking me about it," Hagrid waved dismissively.
"But Snape's trying to steal it!"
"Snape wouldn't try to steal anything. He's a professor!" Hagrid firmly denied, "And he wouldn't try to hurt you either, Harry."
"But he was muttering a jinx, Hagrid. I know a jinx when I see one, I've read all about them!" Hermione exclaimed, now thoroughly on the 'Snape did it' train. "Jinxes need direct eye contact and Snape didn't blink even once!"
"So do counter jinxes," Seth calmly remarked, "If we're looking for a culprit then it's obviously Quirrell! He didn't even turn around once to see what the commotion was all about."
"Well if he was turned around the entire time, then how could he have direct eye contact with Harry's broom?" Ron rebuked.
"There's this thing called a mirror. I don't know if you've seen it but we have one in our bathroom if you don't know what it looks like. It's a square above the sink, shows your reflection and everything," Seth retorted.
"Alright, that's enough of that! You're all wrong! No professor would steal something from this school," Hagrid interjected, "I don't know why Harry's broom acted like that but no professor would try to kill a student! Now listen here, all four of you, you're meddling in things that don't concern you. It's dangerous. Forget the dog, forget what it's guarding, that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel-"
"Aha!" Harry exclaimed, pointing at Hagrid in triumph, "So a Nicolas Flamel is involved, is he?"
Hagrid looked upon them thunderously. "Out!" he shouted, swiping their teas away and ushering them out of his hut.
The quartet suddenly stood outside of Hagrid's hut in the chilly air as the sun set in the horizon. Hagrid's door slammed shut.
Seth gave Harry a flat stare that the boy turned red in embarrassment from.
And we're finally picking up more on the plot! Also, if you guys sensed a bit of bitterness in the breakfast scene, that's just some of my feelings as a student athlete myself carrying over. Athletes already have it hard enough, feeling guilty and ashamed when they don't win. What? You think those tears after a defeat are just for show? There's nothing more frustrating than losing when you know you could've and should've done better. The fans and sports watchers don't need to dog pile onto them like it's all the athletes fault for not winning when they ALREADY KNOW IT'S THEIR FAULT, CHILL! GEEZ!
Ahem. Anyways, next up is the Christmas chapter, which I'll be able to interject more of my own personal touches in. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to the next one!
