I own nothing. Additional disclaimer: There is a name used from the movie "Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story" because I couldn't help myself.
So, as always, please enjoy and review.
Chapter XXIII
October 1993
On a crisp Saturday morning, Harry and his friends were training in the Room of Requirements. Usually this would involve Harry instructing the twins and Hermione on different spells and dueling practices before he and Danny would do their own session that focused on developing Danny's magic. However, on this particular afternoon, everyone's focus was on Danny.
"This is stupid," grumbled Danny. He stood in the middle of the room with his broom in hand. He had a very sour opinion over today's training exercise.
"Come on, Danny, this is just like our evasive training...except without the evasive part," Harry tried to reason.
"We've never used two sociopaths with bats," argued Danny while accusingly pointing fingers at Fred and George. They stood about arm-lengths apart and carried small wooden bats.
"Words hurt, Danny," said Fred in a semi-serious tone.
"Besides, we will really, really enjoy this." The two slapped their beater bats together like a high-five.
"Isn't there any other way to do this?" pleaded Hermione. She had been on pins-and-needles about Danny joining the team ever since she watched his first Quidditch practice. Harry had long suspected that she had some control issues and the unpredictability of Quidditch was something she couldn't handle. It was no wonder why the only class she ever failed was her flying lesson back in her first year. It also didn't help that Seekers were historically the most injured player in the game.
"We have to be sure that if Danny ever got hit by a Bludger that it won't set him off." When Danny kept pointing fingers at the twins, Harry continued. "And, despite their insanity, Fred and George are the best Beaters at this school."
"Oh, Harry." Fred started waving himself.
"Flattery will get you, anywhere." George batted his eyes at Harry.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Run it again."
Danny pouted pitifully before he grabbed his broom and went back to the start position while the twins grabbed two more idle Bludgers.
Harry watched (Hermione cringed) as Danny flew back and forth across the room while purposively allowing the twins to repeatedly hit him with Bludgers. With every lap Danny took, Harry could see his brother's growing agitation. It wasn't all that surprising. Harry certainly would never allow himself to be subjected to this kind of treatment. He purposely ignored the hypocrisy of it all.
"Keep going, Danny," said Harry as he watched Fred laugh after he managed to hit Danny near his groin. "You're doing great."
Danny answered the encouragement with a glare and even Harry felt how disingenuous they had been.
After about ten minutes, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. "How long is this supposed to go on?"
It was in that moment that Harry realized; he had no idea. Danny, despite the multitude of Bludgers smacking him across every inch of his body, heard the exchange and had reached the end of his patience. He stopped in the middle of the course.
"OK! Enough!" But Fred and George ignored this. They seemed to be in their own little world and that's when a Bludger accidentally caught Danny across the face. "ENOUGH!"
A wave of magic flew out from Danny's body and forced everyone off their feet.
A few of the Bludgers got swept up in the wake of it and Fred, George, and Harry all took shots to the body. Hermione, somehow, went through the entire ordeal unscathed.
"Ok, owww! This hurts," whined Fred as he rubbed his chest where his own Bludgers hit him.
"I remember now at what point we chose to be Beaters. This sucks," said George. He had a hand over his left eye. He removed it for a moment and Harry grimaced at how swollen it had become. He definitely needed a trip to the hospital wing.
"Sorry," Danny apologized but then said. "But not really." His pain definitely outweighed the few shots the twins took. Danny limped uneasily over to Hermione, who rushed up to his side, to help him to a nearby chair.
Meanwhile, Harry started checking his own body. He had taken off his shirt to check the different places he had been hit; one large bruise over his left pectoral and a couple on the left and right side of his abdomen. They were quickly turning a dark and angry purple. He got to his feet and made his way over to Danny.
Danny, also, had his shirt off and he and Hermione were rubbing a bruise and pain-relief salve over his many welts. A soft blush was on Danny's face at having Hermione soft hands rubbing over his bare skin. Harry was sure that Hermione would be the same way if her face wasn't scrunched up so much in concern over what had caused the bruises to be there in first place.
"I can't believe you or anyone would want to play such a violent game," she muttered.
"Because it's fun," said Danny as he winced when her hand brushed over a sensitive part of his back. It felt as if his bruises had bruises.
Harry snapped his fingers at Hermione so that she would hand him the salve. When she took her eyes off Danny to do so, she paused at the sight of Harry's chest. In the past, Harry would chalk it up to her crush on him, but they had (thankfully) moved well past that. What she couldn't take her eyes off was the jagged burn scare that lied between his two pectoral muscles.
Harry grabbed the salve on his own as Fred and George came over.
"Damn, Harry," George marveled.
"It kind of looks like a lightning bolt." Fred traced the shape he meant in the air over the scar. In a way, he was right, too. The scar did resemble a lightning bolt that was often seen alongside pictures of the Greek god, Zeus.
"It's looks badass," George added as he closely examined it with his one good eye.
This was the first time anyone other than his family had seen the physical reminders of what happened last year with the stone. Despite the looks of awe from the twins, Harry still felt a little self-conscious about it.
"Everyone needs to stop staring at me," Harry told them.
"Sorry, Harry," apologized Hermione quickly and returned her attention to applying more bruise salve on Danny's back.
"Um, Harry, can we get some of that?" asked George as he witnessed the restorative effects of the potion on Danny's body.
Harry shrugged and handed the tin back to Danny. "It's up to Danny."
Danny shuffled the tin a little in his hand as he took a long time to contemplate the request. A part of him was still pretty peeved at the twins for they just put him through and what better way to exact some revenge.
"We should probably save the rest of it. We're almost out." There was clearly plenty of salve left but that didn't stop Danny from placing the lid back on the tin; much to the twins' displeasure.
"But, but, but...this was his idea," whined Fred in the same accusatory tone as Danny had only minutes again, as he pointed at Harry.
"How come he got to use it?" added George while he showed off his swollen eye as much as possible.
"We're family," replied Harry simply.
"I've always thought that your friends are like your extended family." George pointed out.
"Where you share things," added Fred.
"Not happening fellas. You might want to try the hospital wing." George would have to go there anyway. This stuff was not meant to go around the eyes.
Seeing that they weren't going to get through to Harry, the twins turned to Danny. "Danny, don't let your evil brother influence you."
"You're the nice one, remember."
"And we're sorry we got carried away."
"You know us. We're over-achievers."
"Not academically, of course."
"No, no. Merlin forbid. Only in the art of mischief and mayhem do we excel."
"Besides, we're teammates now and teammates should stick together."
"I believe it was the Great Beater Patches O'Houlihan who said, 'Ask not what you can do for your—'"
"Ok! Fine! Just shut up." Danny caved and slapped the tin in their outstretched hands.
"Oh thank Merlin!" Fred scooped up a large glop, far more than what he actually needed, and spread it over it his entire body. "I had no idea where I was going with that."
"There's no one named Patches O'Houlihan, is there?"
"Haven't the foggiest." Fred passed the tin on to George who immediately copied his brother and applied far too much salve to his body.
"It's so relieving and refreshing." George had decided to forego the safety warnings and spread the salve all around his eye. Thankfully, he at least avoided direct eye contact.
"You only got hit a few times," said Danny. "Try a hundred."
"That you two hit him with!" added Hermione. Her normally benevolent nature held no sympathy for the two Beaters.
Knock! Knock!
There was a collective look of concern. The whole purpose of using the Room of Requirements was to make sure no one could find them. The only one undeterred was Harry.
"Relax, it's probably Daphne." Harry had walked over to his bag and pulled out the Marauder's Map to check who it was.
"See." Standing in the middle of the hallway outside was a small dot with a bubble over it reading 'Daphne Greengrass.'
Harry walked over to the door and as soon as he opened it a little, Daphne burst through and stomped into the center of the room.
"About time." Her eyes searched for Harry and quickly found him behind her. "You were supposed to meet..." Daphne's voice died off as her eyes trailed down Harry's exposed abdomen, specifically, at Harry's ab muscles. Her head tilted slightly as she admired the well-defined contours of his body. She didn't seemed all that concerned about the fading bruises or the burn scar.
It wasn't until she heard the twin's snickering that Daphne snapped out of it and finished walking up to Harry with a small tinge of pink in her cheeks.
"You were supposed to meet me a half-an-hour ago." They had been assigned by the Head Boy to speak with Hagrid about an incident.
Harry checked his watch. "Right, sorry, lost track of time." When he looked back at her, her eyes were back on his abs. Strangely enough, he didn't mind so much when it was her staring at him, but now wasn't the best time.
"Ummm, Daphne."
Daphne's facial expression froze, having been caught again. "Put a shirt on and let's go!"
"Hey Daphne, check us out." Fred was using a fake macho voice and flexing his arms.
"You like big muscles." George was using an even deeper voice while doing an under arm flex.
Daphne took a split-second look over the twins before she scoffed. "When they exist."
Fred and George immediately deflated and held their hands over their hearts as if shot by an arrow.
"Oh, the words! George, the words! They hurt so much." Fred reached over and used George for support.
George held up the bruise salve tin despairingly. "If only this could relieve our bruised hearts."
"Your egos, maybe," Hermione quipped.
"Harry, I've had my fill of stupid today." The twins sunk to their knees, struck by another imaginary arrow. "Can we go?"
"Yeah, let's go." Harry rested his hand on small of Daphne's back before they both made their way out.
"Hey Harry!" Danny called out which made Harry stop them and turn around. "Wood called for a practice tomorrow night. We'll have to change the time for our next session."
"Alright, 5 a.m. it is." Harry smiled at the groans coming from Fred and George.
As Harry turned back to leave, he noticed Daphne's eyes flickering briefly between the door and Danny. It looked as if she had been struggling to decide on whether or not to say something. Once Harry had turned them back around, though, she went with it without a word.
As they walked along, Harry was having a hard time trying to come up with a way to bring up how Daphne felt about Danny. Everything was going so well between the two of them and he would really hate if she was still not able to accept Danny. He did not want it to come down to him choosing between them.
"I can't believe we're going to be late! Just because you were too busy prancing around with your shirt off." It obvious that the shirtless part was what she most upset about.
"We were only shirtless for a few minutes." He wasn't going to go into detail about Danny's training now that they were out in the open.
"And what about Granger, with her hands all over your brother. Did she rub you down too?" She stared at him accusingly.
"No—" Harry started to say but Daphne quickly cut in.
"You know she had a crush on you."
"I do, but she's over that."
'Thank Merlin!'
Daphne just gave him a look that said that didn't buy that excuse.
"What do you want me to do? We're training. Sometimes we don't wear shirts," argued Harry, slightly exasperated by the direction of this conversation. Granger's well-documented crush had always been a source of teasing for Daphne, not the obvious anger it now brought forth.
"This has happened before!" Daphne instantly fired back.
"Oh Merlin, why are you acting so jealous?" And of Granger of all people.
"I'm not jealous," she quickly defended dismissively.
Harry gave her a look to which Daphne relented under.
"I should be the one that gets to see these things first," She made a general indication to his torso, "not Granger. I'm your girlfriend." While she did have a point and Harry certainly wouldn't mind the two of them reaching a new intimacy level with each other, he thought it best to keep that thought to himself.
"That's like the exact definition of being jealous."
They took their first step outside the castle, and Daphne was just about to retort again, when a male voice interrupted them.
"Ah! Ms. Greengrass, Mr. Potter. Out for a little stroll," greeted Professor Lockhart with his usual charming smile.
The young couple turned to the professor and, once again, Daphne seemed very distracted.
Lockhart was shirtless and sweaty. It was obvious that he was coming back from a run around the grounds. Beads of sweat streamed down Lockhart's hard muscles as he caught his breath, which only seemed to further accentuate the excellent shape he was in.
"You run, Professor?" asked Harry. He had never met another wizard who willingly put forth the effort.
"Every day, Mr. Potter." Lockhart produced a small towel, which had been tucked in back of his pants, and started dabbing his forehead. "In my line of work, outside of teaching, of course, danger can be everywhere. With such perils, I find running to be an excellent way to clear the mind." He smiled as he looked between his two students.
"I agree, Professor. I run every morning." If there weren't so many things Harry hated about Lockhart's class and his self-centered teaching manner, he might actually admire this man.
"Ah! Every evening for me but sometimes you just can't grade anymore papers, am I right?" Lockhart laughed and Harry managed a smile.
"And do you run as well, Ms. Greengrass?" the Professor asked curiously.
Harry turned to Daphne but she looked as if she hadn't been listening to a word they'd been saying. She couldn't take her eyes off Lockhart's body. She still managed to realize that she had been asked a question to which Daphne nodded slowly.
Lockhart nodded back with a knowing smile. "That's wonderful. Well, I must get back to those papers. You two have a wonderful stroll."
Once they were alone again, Daphne slowly started to return to her senses and her face contorted in embarrassed rage as she stomped away towards Hagrid's hut.
"Is there no regard for the school's dress code!?"
Harry couldn't contain it any longer and burst out in laughter.
"Don't you laugh at me!" Daphne rounded on him, the look in her eyes made Harry extremely nervous. "Not after all the times I've caught you staring at Madam Rosmerta, Professor Sinistra." With each name, Daphne held up an accusatory finger. "Penelope Clearwater, Lisa Turpin, Patricia—"
"Ok, ok." He didn't need her to list all the women who were well-endowed. "But it's different for guys."
Harry immediately regretted saying that.
"Oh really?" Daphne placed her hands on her hips and waited or Harry to explain himself.
"Yeah, your...other girl's...ummm...bits are a lot more noticeable." Daphne did not look pleased and Harry could understand why; even he knew that that was a terrible reasoning.
"Our bits? You mean our breasts."
'This is a trap, Harry. Just stop talking.' An inner voice warned him.
"Yeah," he replied dumbly.
"What is with men and their fascination with breasts?"
Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer the question or if he even had an answer. All he managed was a scrunched-up face and a confused shrug.
"Well how often do you 'notice' mine?" Daphne strategically crossed her arms which served to push up her modest b-cup chest, making it extremely difficult not to stare.
'Don't say a word. She probably already knows how often you've watched her. If you say not often, she'll know you lied but if you say the opposite, you'll just dig a bigger hole.'
Harry had to say something, though.
"If you're allowed to look at me then I should be allowed to look at you."
'That was good, just leave it—'
"In fact, you've seen more than me."
'And you blew it.'
"So you want me to run around without my shirt on, is that it?" asked Daphne, a shrewd expression on her face.
"It would be fair." Harry agreed, despite himself.
"You're right." Even her tone made it sound like she agreed with him but, somehow, it didn't make Harry feel like he had won anything.
"So what if I let you touch them. Would that make it even?" She offered in the same tone. It should have raised a major red flag in Harry's mind but all he could think about was if she would really let him do it.
'TTTRRRAAAAPPPPPPP!'
But sadly Harry's brain-to-body communication was disrupted. The thought of touching Daphne's breasts, after secretly thinking about it every time their bodies were pressed together, was just too tempting. Every time they were alone together, every time his hands started to wonder, she'd push them away. The never spoke about it and Harry would never push her towards something she wasn't comfortable with. But he was still a teenage boy with a very attractive girlfriend.
So this time, as his hand slowly glided through the air, closer and closer, a small smile crept onto his face. He was so caught up in the thought of what it would feel like (even through a blouse) that he didn't notice Daphne's wand slip into her hand.
"OWWW!" She had cast a Stinging Hex on his foot just before his hand could reach her.
"I am a lady, Harry Potter!" She cast another Stinging Hex. "And when I allow you to touch me, it will not be outside where any passerby who happens to be looking out a window can see!" She cast another hex but this time Harry side-stepped it.
"So let's go find a broom closet." he teased back at her. He jumped out of the way of another hex which only frustrated her more.
"Stop moving so I can hit you!"
"Why would I do that?" As he lazily dodged another hex, he couldn't help but notice that Daphne could use work on her casting form.
"Because I'm the girl in this relationship." Her movements became sloppier and sloppier as her desperation to hit him grew.
"So." He said in a teasing tone. It was fun making her so flustered.
"So I should get what I want!"
Harry got in close, grabbed both of Daphne's hands, and pulled her in close.
"You know, you should come train with us some time." She struggled to escape but Harry was too strong as he towered over her. "I could help you with your aim."
"Doubtful," she deadpanned, her struggling dissipating.
"I won't wear a shirt," he said in a sing-song voice.
That made Daphne pause. "I'll think about it."
Harry smiled knowingly. That was going to be a useful weapon to have in his back pocket.
"But only to make sure that Granger keeps her hands to herself." He marveled at her ability turn the argument back to its starting point. But, this time, Harry had an answer for it.
"So should I get upset about you and Lockhart?" he teased.
"Don't be ridiculous. He's much too old for me," she replied dismissively, shifting the mood of the conversation to their usually witty banter.
Harry rolled his eyes. "That's very reassuring."
He let go of her hands and they settled across his chest while his came to rest around her waist. Her hands gently traced his scar through his shirt.
"And don't think I didn't notice this," she muttered softly.
Harry knew she had but wasn't surprised that she hadn't reacted when she saw it. After all, she had been one of the first to see it last April.
"It looks a lot better now." She sounded optimistic while hiding her concern over the pain she knew he had endured. She had yet to take her eyes off the spot on his chest.
Harry, though, was determined to keep the tone light. "Fred and George said it makes me look badass."
"Well, I refuse to ever agree with them." She finally looked up at him and Harry felt the warmth that her gaze usually inspired within him.
With the tension, real or otherwise, now gone, they both realized their close proximity. Harry dipped his head while Daphne rose up so that their lips met. Harry wrapped his arms the rest of the way around her waist and pressed her closer to him, drinking in her soft vanilla scent. Daphne moaned appreciatively as she fisted her hands into his shirt. Soon, though, the need for air arose and they separated.
"I thought I said no more snogging in public," she said, slightly out of breath. Her face was flush which always did wonders for Harry's ego.
"You're right. We should never do this again," he replied with feign seriousness before he immediately walked off and made it to Hagrid's door before Daphne could catch up with him. A side glance and he couldn't help a smile at the look of frustration on her face.
Harry reached out and knocked on the large oak door. Instantly, the sound of scurrying feet could be heard as Fang barked at the unknown intruders.
"Down Fang, down!" ordered Hagrid from within.
When the door opened, Daphne sidestepped so that she stood directly behind Harry. This way, only Harry ended up being slobbered on by the overly excited bloodhound that jumped into his arms. Harry instinctually wrapped his arms around Fang.
Daphne came around with a smug expression.
"Should I be jealous of this, too?"
Harry smiled sarcastically at her.
"Get back, Fang!" Hagrid reached over and pulled his dog off Harry. A quick inspection of his robes and Harry found himself covered in sticky drool.
"Sorry 'bout that, Harry. Fang gets excited around people he's met before."
"It's alright, Hagrid. Nothing a few Scourgify's can't fix." Harry wiggled his arms to shake off the excess drool before he allowed Daphne to cast the Cleaning Spell to remove the rest.
"What yeh came ter see is around back. I'll show yeh."
Harry and Daphne followed Hagrid to the back of his hut to his rooster coop. When Hagrid opened the door, Harry was forced to wonder what this was all about. Once inside, though, the reason became clear.
"Dead. Every single one o' 'em," said Hagrid solemnly.
"How?" asked Harry. The entire place was a complete disaster. Blood and feathers were sprayed everywhere. There wasn't one clean spot in the entire coop.
"Throats cut," answered Hagrid. He gently lifted the head of one of the dead roosters that was partially hanging from one of the shelves. A clear cut was visible across the rooster's throat.
"Who would do this?" asked Daphne. She looked genuinely upset at all the dead animals.
"That's what we're here to find out." Harry reminded her.
"How are we supposed to do that?" Daphne wondered. Her previous concern was now replaced with disgust over the putrid smell of dead roosters.
"Just look around and see if you notice anything." He ordered which earned him a glare.
They weren't actually meant to find the culprit, only to see if it had been an animal attack or if a student had been involved. They would then report their findings to the Head Boy and Girl who would then report to the Deputy Headmaster who would then decide if the Headmaster should become involved. It was tedious task, one that had far too many middle-men, in Harry's opinion. But now that he saw the obvious signs that this wasn't another animal, Harry couldn't help but ponder the culprit's motivation.
'Who would want to kill every rooster on the grounds?'
November 1993
Harry stepped out of the staircase from the Headmaster's office. He and the Headmaster had discussed Malfoy's current sway in the Board of Governors. Thankfully, over fifty years of amicable relations between Dumbledore and the existing board members was enough to hold off Malfoy's complete control of Hogwarts. Thus far, the only real disturbance had been the slaughter of Hagrid's roosters. Nothing had come from the investigation so far. Whomever had done it had left no trace and the peculiarity of the situation left no clear motive.
Harry walked the hall towards the Slytherin Common Room. He was hoping to meet up with Daphne before going to Danny's first Quidditch match against their house, Slytherin. It was going to be the first test on whether or not Harry scheme to undermine Malfoy would work. Harry, though, wasn't nervous. He had full confidence in his little brother.
The morning when the Firebolts arrived at the Great Hall was met with a tremendous uproar. Professor McGonagall actually cracked a smile, especially at the nervous look on Professor Slughorn's face. Students crowded around their respective Quidditch teams, all crying out for a chance to simple touch the state-of-the-art brooms.
Meanwhile, Harry sported his own grin, Daphne hummed happily (but no real smile), as they watched the Slytherin team huddle around Malfoy demanding answers. It was entertaining to watch them force Malfoy out of his seat and up to the owlery to write his father for the same thing. It only got better when word came that Lord Malfoy refused. Harry imagined that Draco's father was challenging him to stand on his own two feet for once.
Harry rounded the corner to the main staircase but quickly took a step back when he noticed Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team standing around a girl. By the looks of it, the team was bullying a student as a means to psych themselves up for their upcoming game. As a prefect, it was Harry's duty to break this up; however, when Harry recognized their intended victim, he decided to stand back and see what happened.
"Hey mudblood, why don't you crawl back into the dung heap you spawned from?" Derrick, one of the team's Beater, insulted with a chuckle.
"That way we won't have to smell your stench." Bole, Derrick's counterpart, added.
"Actually, I use an herbal base shampoo that gives off a flowery scent." Hermione held a strain of her hair and casually gave it a whiff. "I've been told it smells quite nice."
There was brief look between the team as they didn't understand why their insults were having no effect.
"You can't talk to her that way." Malfoy took center stage. "Granger fancies herself as an intellectual. She thinks she better than all of us."
"Because I am," she replied confidently. She was doing a fairly decent job keeping her composure as Malfoy circled her.
'She is.' Harry agreed with her. A small part of him was proud to see the way she was handling herself, despite such uneven odds. The only disconcerting thing was where Malfoy was taking this.
"Right, of course, you are. That's why no one but the Potters even bother with you. They have the same high-and-mighty attitude as you." Slowly, the rest of the team caught on to what Malfoy was doing. Snide grins spread across their collective faces.
"Harry and Danny are more than you'll ever be, Malfoy." Her indifference cracked a little in the defense of her friends. Unfortunately, it played right into Malfoy's hands.
"Ohhhh, looks like I've struck a nerve." Malfoy stopped his circling so that now his back was to Harry. The rest of the team positioned themselves behind Malfoy which made it difficult for Harry to see what was going on. "Not surprising, though, don't you fancy Potter?"
Hermione defiantly stood her ground. "Harry-"
"I wasn't talking about Harry Potter." Malfoy smoothly interrupted. Harry could imagine the satisfied grin on Malfoy's face.
Harry came out of his hiding spot so that he could get a clearer view of Hermione; it wasn't good. She had visibly clammed up, her previous confidence disappearing. Malfoy had found his opening was about to go in for the kill.
"Oh no!" Malfoy played off being shocked and held a hand over his mouth. "Did you actually think the Chosen One, our world's savior, would ever be interested in a mound of hair and buck teeth?" Malfoy's tone was dripping with sarcasm, especially when referring to Danny's monikers. Hermione looked increasingly upset and near tears.
"You did, didn't you? A filthy little mudblood thinks she can be a Lady of a Noble House. Your kind are only good for one thing." He finished with a suggestive snare. Malfoy turned around to his teammates and laughed.
"Probably what he spends all that time training her," said Derrick with a chuckle. As they laughed together, they missed Hermione's face harden at their obscene insinuations. She took a small step closer to Malfoy, her hand balled up into a fist.
"No. He taught me this."
Hermione's words caused Malfoy to turn around just in time to welcome Hermione's right fist to the side of his face.
Crack!
Malfoy dropped like a dead fish into the arms of one of his teammates. The other members of the Slytherin team went to pull their wands but Hermione already had hers drawn and ready. A confident smile spread across her face at their shocked faces.
"Oh bugger it all!" exclaimed Marcus Flint, the team captain. He had been the one that Malfoy had crashed into. "We've got a match to get to."
"What about her?" asked Montague, the lead Chaser.
"Leave her." Flint was more concerned about his incapacitated Seeker, especially with the match starting in an hour.
Derrick and Bole came over and grabbed Malfoy from Flint and carried him away.
Hermione, having carefully watched them leave with her wand still drawn, took a few calming breaths before she started walking down the hall where Harry was hiding. When she almost reached him, Harry stepped out.
"So now I know how to get you to follow through with your punches."
Hermione stopped short in front of Harry. Her eyes wide as saucers at seeing him. "You saw that?"
Harry nodded.
"Did you hear-?" She shifted uncomfortably.
"I did," he replied stoically.
"I-I-" She struggled to find her words. Harry felt like they had transported back to her first year when she struggled to speak to him due to her adolescent crush. But this was about a different Potter now.
"What, Granger?" He asked with demanding tone.
It had become painfully obvious to everyone that there was an attraction brewing between his little brother and his best friend. And while Harry thought that, at only thirteen, it was too early for anything to start, he wasn't going to stand in the way of anything that did.
But, of course, he wasn't going to say that to either of them.
'Time for a little payback for the summer,' he thought manically.
Hermione, for once, didn't know what to say. "Ummm..."
"See you at the match." His farewell sounding more like an order.
"Right." Hermione grasped the opportunity to leave and quickly scurried away towards the Main Entrance.
As Harry continued on his way to his dorm, he chuckled merrily at all the fun he was going to have tormenting his brother and his bookworm best-friend.
Harry and Daphne were walking together down the path that lead to the Quidditch pitch. They had just had an unfortunate run in with their Head of House, Professor Slughorn.
"I swear if that blubbering walrus doesn't stop winking every time he sees us together, I'm going to kill him," Daphne grumbled.
"At least he doesn't try and offer you dating advice. Compared to that, winking is harmless," joked Harry.
"It should be outlawed."
"What about Lockhart then? Merlin knows, he can't go five minutes without winking at someone. Should he be killed, too?"
It was a running joke now for Harry to tease her about their dashing Defense Professor.
Daphne huffed. "As if that could happen."
They reached the pavilion and climbed the stairs to the student section of the arena. The two had arrived just five minutes before the match began so there weren't many available seats left. Thankfully, being leader of Slytherin had its perks.
"Sir! Over here," cried Jacobs with a wave his arms. "I've reserved seats for you and Ms. Greengrass."
"Good work, Jacobs. Move along." Daphne waved at him dismissively.
"Yes, Ms. Greengrass." Jacobs quickly bowed in respect and scurried away to where his friends were seated.
"You enjoy that too much." Harry quipped as they took their seats.
"I'm not going to deny that." Daphne replied honestly.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," Lee Jordan, the regular sports commentator, announced. "WELCOME TO THE FIRST QUIDDITCH MATCH OF THE YEAR. SLYTHERIN VS. GRYFFINDOR!" A huge round of applause reverberated through the stadium.
"I hope it's a short match." Daphne put her hand across her brow to shield her eyes. "This weather is horrendous."
It was a beautiful sunny day.
As the two teams were introduced and took a lap around the pitch, Daphne couldn't help but notice Malfoy's purple chin.
"Did I miss Malfoy getting hurt? I didn't want to miss Malfoy getting hurt." She looked to Harry for an answer. Meanwhile, Madam Hooch had tossed the Quaffle into the field of play and the match had begun.
"That was Hermione," he stated proudly.
"It's good see all that training has amount to something." Her eyes then narrowed suspiciously. "Just as long as that's all that's going on."
"You're more than welcome to join us to make sure." He had offered multiple times but she never accepted.
She waved her hand dismissively. "You get up way too early."
"You're up at the same time as me," he argued back.
"For my potions!" She fired back quickly, as if Harry's training was less important. "Not running around flailing my wand all over the place without my clothes on!"
Harry looked up to the heavens for answers. She was never going to let that go.
His eyes wandered to those sitting around them and noticed a number of queer looks directed towards them. That was when Harry realized that what Daphne had just said could have a completely different meaning.
Harry closed his eyes woefully and leaned into Daphne. "Can you please refrain from making me out to be some kind of pervert?"
"Stop acting like one." She always had the talent to make it seem like it was his fault that she was insulting him.
He knew she was only teasing him, playing the game they always played, but sometimes it could try his patience.
"If I say you win, can we just watch the match?"
"I don't know, can you?" When Harry wouldn't bite, Daphne relented. "Fine, fine. Just trying to entertain myself."
It almost seemed pointless to point out that there was a Quidditch match going on. Thus far, both sides were fairly evenly matched. The score was 40-30 in Gryffindor's favor. The count could have been higher for Gryffindor but it seemed that the Lions were still adjusting to the world-class speed they now played with. There had already been five turnovers from passes that ended up slightly behind the intended Chaser.
Meanwhile, Wood was having probably his best game of his career. The added speed allowed him to patrol his three hoops with tremendous success. He already had fifteen blocked shots and had the chance to beat the school's record if the pace of play continued as it had.
Whether Wood would have that chance, though, resided solely with the two players that hovered high above the playing field. Danny and Malfoy drifted back and forth across the pitch, dodging the occasional Bludger, as they searched for the elusive Golden Snitch.
Harry scanned the field, as well. Despite Harry's confidence in his brother, he still favored a quick resolution so as to not tempt fate.
"There they go!" A voice cried from the stands.
Harry immediately turned back to his brother and Malfoy. They both were in a steep dive towards the ground.
"IT LOOKS AS IF BOTH SEEKERS HAVE SPOTTED THE SNITCH!" Lee Jordan commentated. "POTTER AND MALFOY ARE NECK-AND-NECK. WOW! THEY'RE SURE MOVING FAST. OH NO! LOOK OUT!"
Their dive took them right into the middle of the Gryffindor Chaser's attack on the Slytherin goal. Danny narrowly avoided colliding with his own teammates but Malfoy wasn't so lucky. He had veered right into a pass between Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson.
The smack of the Quaffle against Malfoy's face could be heard all the way from the castle.
"THAT'S GOTTA HURT, FOLKS. THAT BALL IS ONE SOLID PIECE OF LEATHER AND AT THAT SPEED...MMMHHMMM. MALFOY'S GOING TO FEEL THAT ONE TOMORROW."
"Yay!" Daphne cheered and clapped. It looks like she finally found something to entertain herself.
Harry, though, didn't have time to revel in Malfoy's pain. He was too busy watching Danny as he pulled out of his dive with just enough space for his feet to kiss the grass of the ground. Danny looked quickly behind him and smiled when he saw that Malfoy was far too dazed and confused to catch up with him.
There was one last attempt by a Slytherin Beater to knock Danny off course but he easily avoided it. Seconds later, Danny closed his fingers around the small golden ball and the game was over.
Madam Hooch loudly blew her whistle. "Gryffindor wins!"
The stadium exploded in applause. This had been Slytherin's first defeat since they had received their Nimbus 2001's and the other three houses held nothing back.
Daphne sighed contently. "That went beautifully."
Harry wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her ear. "Are you admitting that I can come up with a smart plan?"
"I'll admit you're learning."
Harry smiled and leaned down for a quick kiss. They took a few extra moments to watch Flint and the rest of the Slytherin team crowd around Malfoy. Judging by their facial expressions, they were less than pleased that their winning streak had ended.
"How does a Seeker not know how to dodge a Quaffle? It's the biggest ball in the game." Harry overheard one Slytherin complain.
"And those brooms! It's malarkey that the other houses have Firebolts and not us."
"Yeah! Why doesn't Draco get his Dad to get them for our team?"
All the while, Harry and Daphne happily sat and enjoyed the fruits of their labor as they waited until enough people had left their section.
Harry watched his brother and the rest of the Gryffindors celebrate merrily. They all seemed especially proud to be the ones to put an end to Slytherin's reign on the pitch.
But what Harry thought would be a good day, was quickly interrupted by one Gryffindor that Harry was less than pleased to see.
"Come on, guys! How about a team photo?" Creevey's idea was met with immediate cheers of approval and many non-players tried to push their way into the shot.
Creevey took some steps back and ordered people around so they could all fit. It was going to be a great picture.
"Come on everyone! Squeeze in!" Creevey took some more steps back. "Wait! Where's Danny? He should-" Creevey stopped as he unexpectedly backed up against a very solid object. He looked behind him at an extremely unhappy Harry Potter.
"Oh, hi Harry." The color slowly drained from Creevey's face. "Ummm, I didn't mean to...I mean...I forgot...I..."
Harry grabbed the camera and pressed a small button that allowed the photographer to review their pictures. With a wave of his wand, Harry cycled through the images. As he did so, he missed seeing Creevey slip his clenched hand into his pocket, a black film tube was just barely visible.
Harry stopped once he found an image from when Danny and Malfoy were in their dive. The framing was obviously focused on Danny.
Harry's angrily turned to Creevey who was now white as a ghost.
"I-I didn't mean to. It was just such an exciting moment. I couldn't help myself." Creevey tried to explain.
Harry didn't care. He had already flipped open the back and ripped out the film.
"Hey Potter! What's the big idea, huh?" cried Wood.
"No press is allowed on school grounds." It had been one of the provisions he and Dumbledore had laid down before Danny had been enrolled.
"He's not a reporter, Potter." Wood pointed out. "You've no right."
Harry dropped the film on the ground and incinerated it.
"So stop me."
Harry scanned the crowd but no one was looking for a fight. His eyes eventually found Danny's and his stern expression wavered at his brother's sad face.
"You all enjoy your victory." Harry then turned around and left. He could feel the Gryffindor daggers in his back but the one that hurt the most were the eyes of his little brother. It was supposed to be a good day for him and Harry had ruined it.
'I'm sorry, Danny.'