And a chapter in a timely fashion. Miracles can and do happen. Thank you for all your support, despite this fic having been on hiatus for so long. I'll aim to complete another chapter in a week or so, all things going to plan.

And pretty please do review. I do love getting reviews!


Chapter 9: Headache of a Bludger

As Amelia had anticipated, the newspaper headlines announce the upcoming trial of Quirrell for the world to see. I don't know where they got their information from on the crimes he is supposed to have committed, but Amelia is clearly not the only leak in the Ministry. The young Potter boy is getting more than his fair share of attention from his house mates, and not because of the upcoming Quidditch match this morning. But then, for all I know it could have been Fudge himself who released information about Quirrell's attack on The-Boy-Who-Lived. It is certainly noticeable that the possession is described only as a dark entity, rather than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself and the charges laid upon Quirrell are vague regarding his relationship with the entity.

Oh, for the want of a time-turner. Although, I'm not sure quite what I'd have to change.

As expected, the Great Hall is buzzing with excitement and interest. It isn't every day one of your old Professors is charged and tried for attempted murder after all. I glance across the table to Severus and wince at the fire in his eyes as he glares at the newspaper in front of him. Despite discussing what could be done about Fudge for what seemed to be hours, none of us came up with any worthwhile suggestions. It would be one thing if Black were healthy enough to be tried, but as it stands, we are helpless.

And yet, despite everything that is going on, it is of course imperative that I watch the first Quidditch match of the season. Slytherin vs Gryffindor or, as some of the second years have started calling it, Potter vs Malfoy. To make matters worse, it looks like it's going to rain.

There's nothing for it though but to troop out to the Quidditch fields along with what looks to be the entire student population at Hogwarts at eleven o clock. Severus joins me as I reach the outskirts of the stadium and we walk the final distance to the staff box together. In any other circumstance, this would be an interesting game to watch. My Gryffindors play well together and Harry's the best seeker I've seen in many years, whilst the Slytherin team have something to prove after last year and all have top of the range broomsticks thanks to Lucius Malfoy. Who says bribery doesn't get you anywhere?

I wouldn't normally wish to miss the first match of the year for anything, particularly one that promises to be as close as this one could be. But if I could skip this match to sort out the Ministry, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But that comes back to the issue of there being nothing I can do. The problem is that there is nowhere better for either of us to be and both of us know it. If we even stop foot in the Ministry, we put Amelia's career – and our only line of communication – in jeopardy. And so, we have little choice but to sit here and watch Quidditch.

The stands around us erupt in cheers and shouts as the Gryffindor team make their way onto the pitch. Most of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs will be rooting for them in this match, and not simply because the Slytherins are less popular. With their new broomsticks, the team of snakes are a serious contender for this year's Cup. If my lions can build up enough of lead even this early in the season, it could seriously damage their chances of that coveted Quidditch podium.

Even from above the grounds, it is clear to see the sparks flying as the two Captains glare daggers at each other, but that's nothing particularly new. The enmity between Wood and Flint is well known. And then the fourteen players are in the air and for the briefest of moments, I lose myself in the chaotic dance of Quidditch. Both the Malfoy and Potter boys soar higher still, darting above the main action to begin their sweeping circuits of the pitch in search of the elusive golden glimpse that will end the game.

I don't think anything of the high turn I see the Potter boy make out of the corner of my eye as Lee Jordan announces the first Slytherin goal, but I glance back towards him as he veers down in a hard dive only to twist and shoot across the pitch at speed. Leaning forward, I frown slightly. That's unusual. He surely can't be watching for the Snitch at that speed. I'm peering so intently that I miss the next couple of goal announcements, but I catch a glimpse of the black ball following Potter and then the swing of the Beater's bat as either Fred or George knocks it off course towards one of the Slytherin Chasers.

Rain starts to pelt down heavily around the field, obscuring my vision even more than the distance had. But I can make out Potter putting on another burst of speed. I follow him closely, squinting to make out the red hair of what appears to be both Weasley twins flying in a close circuit around him. I mutter a quick Impervius Charm on my glasses and focus once more. The smallest figure of the three darts down again, only to veer left then right in quick succession. The two Beaters follow him. I can't make head nor tails of it. The Beaters should be harassing the opposing teams Chasers, not sticking to their own Seeker like glue.

"What is going on with your Beaters, Minerva?" Severus asks, his low voice breaking my concentration and I catch Lee Jordan announcing the sixty point lead to the snakes. "At this rate, Slytherin won't need to catch the Snitch to win the game."

"Something's not right," I mutter, just as Rolanda calls a time out. The two teams dive back to the ground and huddle together on opposite sides of the pitch. "Why would the Weasley twins be shadowing Potter?"

Severus taps his wand against his thigh briefly in thought, before conjuring a heavy set of glasses out of thin air. I glance at him in surprise as he watches the players mount their brooms and take to the sky again.

"Not quite as fancy as proper Omnioculars, but good enough in a pinch," he says shortly, his attention on the players. "I think you're right Minerva. Your Potter boy is having to spin circles around a particularly intent Bludger by the looks of it."

He passes me the thick rimmed glasses and I peer through them, ignoring the slight distortion caused by my own glasses in conjunction. I watch as Potter does a particularly steep diving before spinning sharply and zooming off at an angle, followed closely by the blur of the Bludger. The Weasley twins have clearly been instructed to leave their Seeker to it. With the sudden clarity of the magnification glasses, my heart leaps into my chest as Potter is forced to spiral, zig-zag and roll in order to keep one step ahead of the rogue Bludger. It looks almost like an airborne dance, but it's one with hefty stakes involved.

"That Bludger must have been tampered with!" I hiss, standing abruptly. "I don't know how, but there is no way a Bludger would focus solely on a single player like that otherwise. We need to halt the game."

"Are you willing to forfeit the match to Slytherin, Minerva?" Severus asks, standing more slowly but following me down to the field. "Slytherin are now 80 points in the lead, after all."

"The game will be re-scheduled," I snap back at him. "That lead is only due to the distraction caused by the Bludger after all."

By the time we reach the Quidditch Pitch, Rolanda seems to have caught on to the increasingly desperate manoeuvres the Potter boy is making to stay one step ahead of the Bludger and is flying up to the two Seekers to investigate. Judging by the howls of disbelief and contempt from the Gryffindor side of the stands, I suspect she just missed a foul. Lee Jordan's creative commentary moments later cements that suspicion.

Before I can send up sparks to attract her attention, Potter stops suddenly. The Bludger's next attack smashes into his side and through the glasses I see him slide dangerously to the side, almost falling off the broom. My heart in my mouth I send a stream of sparks up, just as Potter swerves to avoid a second Bludger strike and dives directly at the Malfoy boy. I see the almost comical look of shock register on the Slytherin Seeker's face just as Rolanda's whistle blows and the youngster's hand closes around the sparkling golden ball just above Malfoy's shoulder.

The field erupts into chaos as Potter careens down to the ground, the Snitch safely ensconced in his working hand but only controlling the broom with his legs. I can see his other arm dangling uselessly, clearly broken by the collision with the wayward Bludger. I aim a hasty Cushioning Charm at the ground, just before he hits the floor hard and rolls. I wince automatically. Even with the soft-landing space, that must have jolted his injury badly.

Running onto the pitch, I catch snippets of the heated argument going on around me as both teams scream at each other, with Rolanda forcibly pushing the two team Captain's apart.

"Potter caught the Snitch, Flint! The game is ours!"

"The whistle blew first, idiot! It doesn't count!"

"It was on top of your Seeker's head and he still didn't catch it!"

Trusting Severus to handle the players if Rolanda can't, I zone the shots and insults out and continue running towards Potter. He's frightening still on the ground. Reaching him just before the small crowd of Gryffindors from the stands, I kneel beside the prone boy, wincing once more at the unnatural angle of his arm and the pallor of his face.

"Mister Potter? Mister Potter? Can you hear me?" I glare at the crowd of pressing bodies suddenly surrounding us and fixing them with a glare, snapping harshly. "Stand back and give the boy some room! If I have to tell you twice, I'll be taking points from my own House! And put that camera down, Mister Creevey! Mister Potter has not given consent for his picture to be taken!"

The look in my eyes gives even the Granger girl a moment of pause, and they hastily step back, nearly knocking each other over in the process.

"Mister Potter?" The boy's eyes flutter slightly, and a flood of relief goes through me. He moans slightly and opens his eyes, his gaze unfocussed. "Don't try and move please, Mister Potter. You've broken your arm, but Madam Pomfrey will be able to sort that out quite easily. Does anything else hurt at all?"

The boy glances down at the Snitch in his hand and looks back up to me.

"Did we win?" He asks, and I don't know why it surprises me that this is his first question. "I caught the Snitch, so we won, right?"

"Of course we won!" The excited shout comes from the youngest Weasley boy, who is beaming from ear to ear. "You were bloody brilliant, Harry! I can't believe you -"

"Language, Mister Weasley!" I snap, before turning back to the injured child. "I don't know, Mister Potter." Exasperation leaking into my tone. "I believe that is currently being discussed by the Team Captains. Have you injured anything other than your arm?"

The boy shakes his head slowly and I stand, raising my wand slightly.

"Can you stand?" I ask, casting a critical eye over the boy. "I can conjure a stretcher if you'd prefer, but…"

"No, no," he says, rolling onto his knees and rising unsteadily. "I'll be fine. I can walk."

"Well then, let's get to the Hospital Wing then," I say, before glancing back over at the gaggle of students around us. "Nothing to see here! Miss Granger, Mister Weasley and Longbottom, you can accompany us if you wish."

I turn to guide the three students towards the castle, catching Severus's eye as I go. Someone tampered with that Bludger and I want to know who. I won't be the only one. Bathilda will have my guts for garters, which is a wonderfully descriptive muggle turn of phrase, if I don't find out who broke her new charge.

As we walk, the conversation turns of course to the Quidditch game and the Potter boy's frankly brilliant catch of the Snitch. I ignore young Weasley's excited commentary and his colourful descriptions of the hell Mister Malfoy is going to get from his House. The Granger girl is the first to raise the troubling issue of the Bludger.

"I want to know how Malfoy fixed that Bludger," she say, scowling as she cuts into the other boy's excited ramblings. "That was some trick."

I open my mouth to speak, but it is the Longbottom boy who responds first.

"I don't think it could have been Malfoy," he says thoughtfully. He glances up to me and continues at my slight nod. "The Quidditch gear is always locked up securely; an Alohomora won't get you in. But even if Malfoy managed to get to them, it would take some complex magic to mess with it like that. Well beyond what even you would be capable of, Hermione, and I don't think Draco is that advanced."

"But…"

"Five points to Gryffindor, Mister Longbottom," I say with a smile, ignoring the shocked look he shoots me. "For an excellent deduction and relying on logic rather than emotion. Mister Malfoy could not have tampered with the Bludger, Miss Granger. I imagine I would be hard-pressed to overcome the extensive protections on the Quidditch gear without significant planning. Professor Flitwick would have the skill, but it is far beyond the realms of second year magic."

"But then, who did?" Miss Granger all but wails.

"Believe me," I say darkly, with a thin smile. "I will certainly be finding out. Whoever is responsible for it will find the consequences greatly distasteful."

She nods silently, still frowning, but we have reached the doors to the Hospital Wing before anything further can be said.

I leave my students in Poppy's capable hands once she's confirmed that it's a bad break but can be fixed quite easily. Heading back to the grounds, I pass several groups of excited young Gryffindor fans. Clearly Rolanda has made her decision and the Snitch catch was allowed. Severus is going to be thrilled. I allow a small smile to emerge as I cross the field to where he is standing, coming into earshot of their conversation. They've clearly moved the players away and Severus stands, his arms folded tightly around the now dormant Bludger.

"This would never be permitted in a professional match," he growls at Rolanda.

"There is a fraction of a second in it at best, Severus," Rolanda replies easily, collecting the remainder of the balls and packing them carefully away. "The whistle and the catch were all but simultaneous. I'm allowing the points and that's final. I consider it more than fair, considering most of the Slytherin points were scored due to the distraction of the Gryffindor Beaters. Do let me know what you and Filius discover about that Bludger."

"Fine," Severus all but snarls, turning sharply. He stops when he catches sight of me. "Don't you say a word, Minerva!"

"My lips are sealed," I reply with a slight smirk. It won't do either of us any favours if I enrage the man further. "Where are you taking that?"

"I'm meeting Filius in his office," he says shortly and stalks back across the field. "If anyone here can decipher the confounding mess of magical signatures on this thing, it's him."

From that I can deduce that Severus has already made some attempt to discover the cause of the Bludger's strange actions, with no joy. That won't be improving his already foul mood, I suspect. We cross the castle in silence, and I allow Severus to seethe in peace until we reach Filius's office. The door stands open and Filius waves us in cheerfully.

"Excellent game, Minerva," he says affably, ignoring the slight tightening of Severus's jaw at the reminder. "That was quite some flying on Mister Potter's account. So, what do we have here?"

"The Bludger that was marking Mister Potter so intently," I reply. "We need to know who tampered with it."

"I've done some basic tests," Severus continues, his dark gaze lingering on the ball. "There are multiple magical signatures, old and new. It is difficult to distinguish between the various layers."

"Hmmm," Filius waves his wand over the ball, muttering as he does so. "Interesting. Interesting." He stops with a frown and repeats his previous wand movements again. "Now that is very interesting indeed."

"What have you found, Filius?"

"As Severus confirmed, there are a great number of magical signatures here. The original spellwork has been layered with a great number of renewal charms. Rolanda's signature is clear. But…"

"But what?" Severus snaps sharply.

"Don't take that tone with me, Severus," Filius chides distractedly, not looking up from the Bludger as he continues to cast at it. "I am not one of your students and I will not be spoken to as such. You asked me for my assistance and I am providing it."

"My apologies." Severus's tone is still dark, but it's lost that biting edge. "What have you found?"

"The main spells are intact," Filius says simply, but raises a single finger as I start to interject. "However, there is an additional magical signature here. One that is unrecognisable. I would hazard a guess that…"

He trails off, staring at the Bludger contemplatively.

"Can a Hogwarts House Elf attend please?" He speaks to the air and I turn to Severus, about to ask him to call Silvia, but there's with a crack a small House Elf appears before us.

"Master calls?"

"Yes, I did," Filius says, before pulling a bronze coloured watch out of his drawer. "Would you be able to use your magic on this, please?" He asks, holding the small-time piece out to the elf. "I don't really mind what you do to it, I just need to register your signature."

"Todpy would be glad to," the little elf remarks happily and points a finger at the watch. The hands spin wildly for a second before settling to the correct time. "Master's watch is working again. Is that all that Master needed?"

"Yes, yes," Filius smiles slightly and nods a dismissal at the small creature. "Thank you for your help, it is much appreciated. I've been meaning to fix that thing for a while…"

"Todpy is glad to help, Master!"

And with that it cracks off again, leaving Filius staring at the watch.

"Curious and curiouser." He looks up at me. "The magical signature is similar. Not the same, but similar. I've never had a chance to study House Elf magic before."

"The barrier," I gasp, putting the dots together. Filius looks at me questioningly. "A House Elf charmed the King's Cross barrier. It's why Longbottom, Weasley and Potter all arrived on the Knight Bus."

"Well, it's not that House Elf in particular," Filius says softly. "I'm not a betting man, Minerva, but I'd put a galleon or two on it being a House Elf that charmed the Bludger. It's got the same hallmarks. We don't just have a rogue Bludger on our hands. We've got a rogue House Elf."

I'm saved from trying to formulate a response by the sudden appearance of Albus's head in the fireplace. Only Severus manages to refrain from jumping.

"Filius!" The voice from the disembodied head is tense, urgent. He starts slightly at the sight of myself and Severus standing in the room. "Oh, Minerva! There you are!"

"What is it, Albus?" We move closer to the fireplace.

"Come to the Hospital Wing," he says sharply and my heart plummets. What could have gone wrong now? "Come quickly. There's been another attack. This time it's one of the students."

"Who –", I start, horror rising in my chest.

Albus's head disappears and for a long moment we all just look at one another in horror. Without any of us saying a word, we all bolt for the door.