AN - Thank you for the review deathwing17, rest assured we are nearing the end of the Sirius arc. I am very excited to hit 13,000 views, thank you all. As always, please leave a review on what you like/don't like. Enjoy!
"Harry, make sure to win," Percy Weasley said in almost a whisper. Harry was seated with Ron and the rest of the Quidditch team at the Gryffindor table, his Firebolt in the center of the table like a shrine. "I don't have ten galleons...yes, coming Penelope!" Percy was off like a rocket after his girlfriend.
"You reckon you can do that?" a voice sneered from behind him. Harry recognized it immediately...where was Mike when you need him? He glanced at the operators table, where Hermione and the rest of the operators were eating and chatting happily. Harry signed inwardly and turned to see Malfoy, who was impressive in his ability to look disgusted at such a fine broom.
"Yeah, I think I can manage," Harry replied curtly, hoping that Malfoy might call it good with that. He didn't walk away, however.
"Loads of features...too bad that there isn't a parachute for you to use the next time the dementors come." Malfoy smirked at Harry, and the offended looks by the rest of the Gryffindor team, who had finally realized he was there.
"Bugger off, Malfoy," Fred called out.
"Your're just jealous that Daddy didn't buy you one." George continued the comment as though it was all one sentence. The brothers smiled at each other as Malfoy glared back at them.
"It's too bad they can't attach an extra arm to yours Malfoy," Harry retorted. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you." The Gryffindor team all laughed loudly and Malfoy didn't stand around for another round.
They enjoyed their breakfast, and then the team went out for a light practice. Flying around a bit, tossing a Quaffle back and forth. No real action, they'd save their energy for the game. At a quarter to noon, the entire team was assembled in their locker area. They could hear cheering from outside and the excitement was palpable.
"This is it, boys and girls." Wood was starting his traditional inspiring speech. It was something of a joke at this point. Though no one dared say it to his face, the Weasley twins grinned at each other, likely doing their best to guess what was coming next. "We were out of the running, but not anymore. We can still win this thing, we can still get the Cup!"
"Anything for you, Wood!" Fred called out. Wood just gave him a brief dirty look at the mocking and continued.
"We are a great team this year, and Harry's Firebolt just gives us that much more of an edge. Let's get out there and show the school that Gryffindor means business!" They cheered and everyone headed outside. It wasn't terribly bright out; the sun being blocked by clouds. Harry was just glad that it wasn't going to be a dark, stormy game like last time.
The Ravenclaw team, all dressed in blue, were already standing at the middle of the pitch. It was difficult to hear Madame Hooch over the roar of the crowd. Harry chanced a look around. He saw the camouflage uniforms in the Gryffindor section that could only be most of Reaper team. Brad, he assumed was among the uniformed individuals around the pitch on the ground level.
Harry glanced back at the Ravenclaw team and spotted their seeker, Cho Chang. She was the only girl on the team, just a little shorter than he was and he couldn't stop a small smile at her. She was very pretty. To his embarrassment, she caught him smiling at her and smiled back, an equally nervous look on her face.
Harry spotted movement and saw the two team captains walking forward to shake hands. Harry was pleased to see it was an amicable handshake, none of the aggression he was used to getting from Slytherin. It wouldn't be a brawl, it'd be a sport, the way he preferred it.
"Moun-" Madame Hooch called out to them. He couldn't hear her words over a sudden roar from the crowd in the Ravenclaw stands, who were doing some kind of chant. He was familiar with the process though and was pretty certain it was time to mount his broom. He did so and saw her bring the whistle to her lips. She gave it a hearty blow and he thought that maybe he heard it, but wasn't sure. Everyone kicked off, so he did the same and the game began in earnest.
Harry's kick off sent him higher and faster than anyone else and he heard Lee Jordan, announcer for the game mentioning his Firebolt. Right after was McGonagall, trying vainly to keep him on task. Harry zipped across the field and came to a sudden stop, nice and high so he could scan for the Snitch. He was moving faster than he needed to in order to get from place to place, but the speed and handling were still new to him and he couldn't help but enjoy it.
He watched on as Katie Bell soared across the pitch with the Quaffle in her arm, half of the Ravenclaw team chasing her madly. A glint of gold. Harry zipped down after it, the rush of cold air past his ears painful and exhilarating all at once. He glanced behind himself and saw that Cho was keeping close, or trying to. She was smart about her moves, weaving just right between other flyers in order to keep close.
"Show her your acceleration, Harry! She can't keep up!" Wood called out from somewhere, Harry wasn't sure. He glanced at Cho again and could swear she was grinning. He looked forward again for the Snitch just in time to see a Bludger coming straight at him. He broke off and was amused to see that Cho had already done the same. She'd spotted it before he did.
The course change had thrown him off and he lost sight of the Snitch, so he started patrolling the pitch from high above the game. He heard that Gryffindor was in the lead, eighty to zero. Katie and Alicia were clobbering the Ravenclaw Keeper.
Another glint of gold, down by the Gryffindor goals. Harry rushed down and out of nowhere, Cho was in his path. He swerved to avoid hitting her and by the time he righted himself, it was gone. He glanced at her and she winked at him and took off. She knew he'd spotted it and couldn't hope to beat him in a race, so she blocked him. She was a smart one.
"NEXT TIME KNOCK HER OVER!" Wood cried out, "YOU'VE GOT THE MOMENTUM!" Harry smirked at the competitiveness of his captain. There was no way he was going to do that, but he had to admire the passion.
Harry searched around the game for another ten minutes, acutely aware of Cho keeping paces with him. He made a sudden dive, almost straight down. Cho, thinking he'd spotted the Snitch, dove after him. She struggled to keep pace as he pushed his broom to its max, then pulled up as he reached closer to the ground. Cho, knowing she'd been fooled, struggled to pull up as well, shooting off in another direction.
Harry, as he leveled out, spotted the Snitch for the third time in the game, glittering along toward the other end of the pitch. He pushed forward as fast as he could, relying on his broom's speed. He was obvious in his effort and knew that a well-placed Bludger would knock him off course in a dangerous way.
Harry could only explain what happened next after speaking to Brad about it after the game. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. He heard shouts from nearby and saw some of the soldiers on the ground raising their rifles, toward the snitch of all ridiculous things. He saw one of them pulling at one of the boxes and immediately recognized it as a Patronus Pack.
The only reason to pull one was a dementor though. Harry felt his heart sink even before he looked back toward the Snitch. When he did, he saw not one but three dementors streaking across the ground level toward him. His response was automatic, even as the blast from the Patronus Pack started. Harry pulled his wand as fast as he could and pointed it directly at them.
"Expecto patronum!" he cried out. He saw a silver streak shoot from his wand, but didn't stop to watch. His mind felt clear and out of the corner of his eye, he could still see the Snitch. He shot at it and, after stowing his wand, plucked the golden sphere out of the air, then streaked down to land his broom.
It was almost like when Dudley got the remote control and started turning up the volume for his favorite show. He hadn't realized that he wasn't hearing anything until it started coming back. He glanced over toward the dementors and saw them laying in a heap, several soldiers running forward with their rifles aimed in, shouting commands. Harry was surprised to see some very human looking hands pop out of the heap. It was then that his hearing was back to the point that he could understand words.
"I have never seen such a COWARDLY act of sabotage!" McGonagall shouted as the soldiers grabbed, and roughly pulled out of the pile, several Slytherin Quidditch players. She continued shouting at them as the soldiers bound them and confiscated their wands. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus Flint, the team captain.
Harry didn't hear more of the commotion as scarlet blurs came running up to him, his team all shouting congratulations at him. He lost focus on the pseudo-dementors and grinned widely at the rest of his team.
"Well done, Harry!" Wood clapped him on the back. They took turns congratulating each other, and soon the rest of the crowd was on the pitch.
"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron shouted as he closed in. Hermione was there, along with Mike. He was the only operator there, the rest dealing with the attempted sabotage of the game. Harry greeted them happily, everyone exchanging comments.
"Quite a Patronus you managed, Harry," a voice said behind him. He turned to see Lupin. The tall Professor was standing right behind him, looking pleased as well as shaken. He'd clearly been thinking what-ifs.
"They weren't real dementors," Harry said. For a moment he was excited, they hadn't had any effect on him. Only now was he piecing together that it was because they weren't real.
"They weren't real, but that Patronus was, Harry," Lupin said, giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "Magnificent work, now go celebrate." He nudged Harry toward his friends, who engulfed him with praise and celebration.
Brad watched as Harry streaked toward the Ravenclaw goals, low and fast. It was really an incredible sport, fun to watch. He looked for any sign of the...whatever...it was. He couldn't keep track of his own sports, let alone wizard ones. He caught movement just behind the goals. It took him a moment to identify it. Three tall, black robed, hooded figures.
"Dementors, east goal!" Brad cried out, leveling his rifle at them. He wasn't currently equipped with a Patronus Pack, so the rifle was all he had. He knew that there was a man with a pack closer to them anyways.
Crack, crack, crack, crack! The sound of rifle fire was loud as he and several others started taking controlled shots with their enchanted munitions. Even as he'd started firing, the first Patronus Pack went off, one of the nearby soldiers reacting immediately. Another silver streak came from the sky at the dementors and they crumpled in a heap as everything was impacting simultaneously. He'd never seen dementors go down, but if they had the advantage, they needed to press it.
Brad almost ordered the unit forward but they were every bit as trained as he was and almost at once they started running forward with his rifle trained on the heap. The others knew just as well as he did when to press, and the momentum of the fight was in their favor. Out of his peripherals, he could see others advancing with him. As he neared the heap he could hear groans.
"Stay the fuck down!" he shouted at the mess of limbs.
"Don't move motherfuckers!" Another voice called out from next to him, equal in its tone. A tone of authority that left no room for interpretation. You did not ignore it and you did not disobey. An arm popped out of the groaning mess and Brad had a brief moment of confusion before everything clicked.
Dementors don't go down, they don't groan and lay there. People do. Brad flushed with anger as he let go of his rifle, letting it hang from the chest harness as he grabbed the arm with both hands and yanked roughly. Sure enough, a human popped out of the jumble, held up by Brad. The others, seeing this, did the same and pulled the rest of them out. Brad recognized the face and slicked back hair of Draco Malfoy underneath him. The boy tried to pull his arm free and Brad was having none of it.
"Don't move, asshole!" Brad hooked a foot under the boy's feet and toppled him flat on his stomach. Brad pressed his knee into the middle of Malfoy's back, earning a pained groan. Brad pulled the boy's arms behind his back and flex-cuffed him.
"I have NEVER seen such a cowardly act of sabotage!" McGonagall's high voice cut through the noise of the crowd. Brad stood up, fully agreeing. These punk-ass Slytherins didn't even realize how lucky they were. Brad and Major Price had a conversation just last night on whether or not to use lethal rounds against dementors.
McGonagall continued yelling at the bound Slytherins for a few moments. She assured them that Dumbledore would hear about it and took fifty points each from Slytherin. Dumbledore showed up in no time and the look on his face was far less than his normal, twinkling peacefulness. He looked pretty upset. By that point, the pitch had largely cleared. Snape was nearby, scowling at the boys.
"Sit 'em up, boys," Brad called as the Dumbledore approached. They sat the four detained students on their knees, still bound.
"Do you even understand the magnitude of your foolishness?" the Headmaster asked, eyeing each of them in turn. They were completely silent.
"Headmaster asked you a question," Brad shook Malfoy's shoulder, not willing to let them get away without saying anything.
"Wuh-jussup-rank," Goyle said, almost under his breath. Dumbledore squinted at him and even Brad, who was right next to the bound student, couldn't understand him. Malfoy gave his fellow a quick glare and Brad helpfully shoved his head back down toward the ground. No use letting the kid think he was in control here.
"Speak up," the solider behind Goyle gave a nudge to the students back.
"Was just a prank." Goyle looked up at Dumbledore for understanding. The Headmaster simply shook his head.
"With your permission, sir," Brad interjected, "my guys can handle the detention." Dumbledore looked to Brad and regarded him for a moment. "They won't want to be in our detention again, sir. I guarantee it."
"I trust that will be the case," Dumbledore beckoned McGonagall and Snape to follow him, leaving the four bound students with the troops. Brad got in front of them and regarded each of them individually.
"That was a damned stupid move, boys." He eyed Malfoy in specific, certain that the little brat was the ringleader of this little exercise. "Next week you guys get detention with me for a day, and it's gonna be a good day." He let it sink in for a minute, allowed them to imagine the possibilities. "Cut 'em loose."
"Who can even keep track of that shit?" Private Aaron Jelenic asked his partner. They were standing guard duty outside the Gryffindor common room, and had been for the last four hours. Two to go. They'd heard that the game was done and figured any minute the crowd would be back to celebrate, or sulk.
"Wizard rules aren't that hard if you have half a brain." The reply was from Private Peter Delphiki, and Aaron was pretty convinced the guy wanted to be a wizard. It was always Wizard's Chess this, Quidditch that, wand-stuff...you name it.
"Dude, what's the point of the entire game?" It was exasperating having this argument again, but maybe he could get through. He loved the Spartan dearly, he was a good guy. But, maybe a bit obsessive. Couldn't he be interested in Oakleys and artillery like the rest of us? "Game can literally go on for hours, and nothing that happens in the game matters. A team of badasses can play the ultimate game against a bunch of losers, and if the loser team gets the Snitch, even by accident, BOOM, done. Game over, good team lost. It's horseshit."
"So you invest in a good Seeker." Now it was Peter sounding exasperated. "And you can win without getting the Snitch, you just need-"
Crash! Just down the stairs from them. They both jogged forward and saw Neville Longbottom struggling to catch his books as they tumbled down a few steps. Christ, that kid could make a mess.
"Need a hand, bud?" Peter asked, stepping down to help. Lord, that guy was a freaking paragon. There was no way to get out of it without being a dick, so he trotted down with his companion to help.
Behind them, from an adjacent staircase that was not connected at all, a large, black, shaggy dog got a running start and hopped the gap. It wasn't a short jump and he almost missed, his back paws just barely making it. No one heard him. The dog, just outside of view of the painting, stopped and morphed into a human quietly.
"Who goes there!?" Sir Cadogan shouted at the newcomer as he approached. To his surprise, and a little bit to his ire, the reply came from down the stairs.
"It's Neville, you half-crazed bastard, and he isn't even upstairs!" one of the sentries called out. The newcomer just looked at a slip of paper in his hand and read off the correct password. Sir Cadogan opened the door and the man was a dog again before entering.
Sir Cadogan closed the portrait and continued his duties. It was a few moments before the sentries made it back upstairs again, Neville close in tow. He struggled with the password for a full minute before stumbling on the right one and being allowed in, the sentries just shaking their heads at the helpless fellow. Too bad they weren't allowed to help with passwords.