Disclaimer / I don't own anything

Chapter 7

Now that we had entered November, the weather was getting colder, and Quidditch training was getting much more intense. Wood made us practice every second night for hours at a time, and he even made us train on Sunday, for four hours. It was obvious how much he wanted Gryffindor to win. With all the extra practices, I was only just getting enough time for homework. I haven't had any more private lessons with Dumbledore, because he couldn't find a night I was available. Today is Friday, the day before the first Quidditch match; Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Students were buzzing around the halls, gossiping about how they thought the game will go. The Slytherins were particularly nasty, glaring at every Gryffindor and making rude comments to everyone on the Quidditch team. It seemed that Malfoy had been assigned to Harry and I. Every time we saw him, he would boo in our direction, or mimic falling off a broom. He called insults about not being able to play properly. It was hard, but we managed to ignore him. Still, though, I had trouble focusing on lessons, my mind wandering to all the possibilities of the game tomorrow. I could tell Harry was distracted as well, because he wasn't even attempting to pay attention. He just sat with his quill hovering above his parchment. During a break, Hermione brought us out to the courtyard and conjured up a blue flame to keep us warm. Harry and I were huddled over reading through Quidditch the Ages, a book Hermione had gotten Harry that had taught us a surprising amount about the game. However, Snape appeared, and he confiscated the book. I was so focused on reading the book I didn't even notice him come towards us until Harry took the book out of my hands. I yelped when I saw the Professor. As he walked away I noticed his limp. I narrowed my eyes and studied him. It seemed as though the injury was old, but not enough to stop bothering him. Harry commented on it, but we had no idea what could've happened. We returned to our classes after the break, although I was even more distracted than before. It was a relief once lessons were over for the day. After dinner, the four of us sat near the window, Hermione and I reading through the boys' homework. It managed to take my mind off everything, although I knew it wouldn't work forever. We had just switched to boys' work to double-check everything when Harry stood up saying he wanted to get the book Snape had confiscated back.

"Better you than me," Hermione and Ron answered together.

Harry turned his gaze towards me, and I looked away.

"Sorry Harry, you're on your own. I've got to finish your homework," I say apologetically.

Harry sighs, then leaves through the portrait hole. I keep my gaze on the spot he last occupied for a few seconds, then focus back on the parchment in front of me. I scratch out a few words and make a few changes, before pushing it away and looking out the window. Thoughts of Quidditch tomorrow fill my mind, then they flick to Harry. Will Snape give him the book back? I doubt it. All I can hope is that he doesn't get detention or something for tomorrow. Knowing Snape, he'd love to do that. Beside me, Hermione gives a big sigh.

"Honestly Ronald, do you pay attention in class at all?" she asks exasperatedly.

Ron shakes his head guiltily. Hermione humphs, before going back to his work. I turn to Ron.

"What are Harry's latest thoughts on the three-headed dog?" I ask.

Harry knows that Hermione and I don't care about it, but Ron has to put up with his ridiculous theories.

"Well," Ron sighs. "He's not too sure. He thinks it has to be whatever Hagrid took out of that vault, but he has no idea what it could be. It's got to be dangerous he reckons, but extremely valuable. Apart from that, he doesn't really have a clue."

I sigh, wondering what to do with that brother of mine. I know he can fend for himself, but I worry about the danger he could get himself in. A bang across the common room shakes me out of my thoughts, and I engage in a conversation with Ron and Hermione. Suddenly, Harry bursts back into the Common Room.

"Did you get it?" Ron asks. "What's the matter?"

I frown at Harry's panting. In a low voice, he tells us what happened with Snape. I groan as he continues with his stupid theories.

"You know what this means? He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him - he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Suddenly, a thought occurs to me. I remember the limp Snape walked with when he confiscated the book, and how it looked old. I recall the date and figure out the Halloween incident was only about two weeks ago. If Snape had been bitten by that dog, there's no way it could;='ve healed properly between then and now. But I'm still hesitant.

Meanwhile, Hermione's eyes go wide.

"No, he – he wouldn't," she says. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

I nod my head, agreeing with her. But apparently, Ron doesn't.

"Honestly, you two, you think all teachers are saints or something," he snaps. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's the dog guarding?"

Normally I would try and argue, but tonight I just can't muster the energy. I shrug my shoulders, then motion to Hermione to come up to our dormitory.

"Get some sleep, Harry. We'll need it for the game tomorrow. Goodnight," I tell them.

I push the thoughts of the night out of my head and try to go to sleep. It takes me a bit, but eventually, I fall into a deep sleep.

The next day, I wake buzzing of energy. Hermione and I head down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and the boys join as not too long after. I have to convince Harry to eat because he's nervous about the game.

"Come on," I urge. "You know what Wood will do if your stomach growls before the game."

Despite himself, he smiles a little bit, then resignedly reaches for a bit of bacon.

Just before eleven, we head down to the Quidditch pitch. Ron and Hermione bid us goodbye, heading to the stands with Neville, Seamus and Dean while Harry and I go to the locker room to change into our scarlet robes. Wood clears his throat.

"Okay, men," he starts.

"And women," said my fellow chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Wood agrees. "This is it."

"The big one," Fred says.

"The big one we've all been waiting for," George continues.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred tells us, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," says Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glares at us to warn us, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

I get a tiny bit nervous as we follow the Weasley's onto the Quidditch Pitch. But hearing the cheering crowd, I am reassured. I glance over at Harry and see that he's slightly pale. I reach over and grab his hand. He looks at me, and I give him a small smile.

'Hey, we'll be fine. Don't worry. Just focus on the Snitch. It's just like practice."

He smiles back at me, and I give his hand a reassuring squeeze before dropping it.

"Now," Madame Hooch says. "I want a nice, fair game from all of you."

I spot the brightly coloured banner in the crowds, sporting a cheering Ron and Seamus and smile.

"Mount your brooms, please."

We all mount our brooms. I push the loose strands of hair that I tied back into a low ponytail off my face, then grip the handle of my Nimbus Two Thousand. Hooch gives her silver whistle a blow, and I kick off into the air.

Angelina immediately takes the Quaffle, and I speed alongside her, keeping an eye on the path to the goalposts. I hear Lee Jordan being reprimanded by McGonagall for something he said while commentating. I focus back on the game. One of the Slytherin chasers comes up near Angelina, so she neatly passes it over to me. I catch it and weave through the green robes. I almost have a clean run, except for another Chaser that will meet me before I can try and score. I pass the Quaffle back to Angelina but groan as it is intercepted by Marcus Flint. I perform a sharp turn and speed back the other way, trying to gain possession of the Quaffle again. Our attempts are futile, as the amount of green robes seems to triple around us, and we can't get a clear opening. Flint goes to score but luckily, Wood executes an excellent move to block it, and Katie Bell takes the Quaffle. I am just about to speed after her when I hear a whooshing sound. Not a fraction too late, I veer off the right, dodging the bludger. Unfortunately, Katie doesn't, and I wince as it hits her in the back of the head, knocking her out of control. Pucey gains the Quaffle, and he speeds off toward the goalposts. I quickly make sure Katie is okay before chasing after him. I see another bludger heading his way, sent by one of the twins, and I grin as he's blocked by it. Angelina gets the Quaffle back, and I pour on an extra burst of speed to fly ahead of her, clearing the field. One of the Slytherins send a bludger at her, but she dodges it, continuing towards the goalposts. No one gets in her way and tosses the ball through the hoops.

"Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

I pump my arm in the air, hearing the cheers of the Gryffindors and the boos from the Slytherins. I glance up at Harry and see him looking around for the Snitch. Wood had told him to keep out of the way until he had found it, so he doesn't get attacked before he has to. Focusing back on the game, once the Quaffle is back in play, Slytherin in possession, I race alongside the Slytherin chasers, trying to intercept their passes. I fall just short though, as they pass just out of my reach. Pucey doges the Bludgers sent at him, and the attacks from Katie. Giving up on trying to intercept the Quaffle, I fly ahead and position myself further up to try and get Pucey off track so we can gain the Quaffle. Just then, I hear Lee say something about the Snitch. Pucey drops the Quaffle is dropped, and I speed down to catch it. I have to use both hands to catch it. My broom dips a bit from the weight, but I position the Quaffle in one arm to grip my broom again. However, when I look around, I see that no one is paying attention to the rest of the game. I remember what Lee said about the Snitch, so I look over at Harry. He has just streaked down to chase after the golden blur. I hold my breath as he races the Slytherin seeker – Higgs – to catch it. Side by side, everyone waits in anticipation. I see the look of concentration on Harry's face as he urges his broom faster. He speeds up and goes to reach out for the Snitch when I see Flint flying towards him. Too late, I call out. Flint slams into Harry, and he is spun off course. The Gryffindors all scream and curse as Hooch yells at Flint. She orders a free shot for us, and I take it, scoring the Quaffle through the goalposts easily. Unfortunately, the Snitch was lost in all the confusion, so Harry resumes his spot above the game, looking thoroughly frustrated, yet thankfully, unharmed. Jordan continues commentating the game, getting reprimanded once again by McGonagall.

"So, after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!"

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul…"

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right."

We take possession of the Quaffle again, only to have Flint take it once more. Angelina has other ideas though and performing a tricky manoeuvre, she manages to make him lose it after only seconds of gaining it. I snatch the Quaffle up from my previously assumed position, pass it to Katie who I have a clear path to, and she tries to pass it back to me, but Flint intercepts it again. I groan as I start to get extremely annoyed with the Slytherin captain. I spot Fred lining up a hit, and grin as Flint gets hit in the face by a bludger. My amusement is short-lived though, and I groan as he keeps hold of the Quaffle and scores through the goalposts. Wood's face looks a mixture of angry, annoyed, upset and confused at the same time. Slytherins cheer loudly while Gryffindor groans as one.

I chance a look at Harry and gasp when I see his broom roll over and he only just manages to hold on. The crowd notices as well, and they all gasp. On instinct, I veer closer to Harry, flying beneath him in case he falls. My heart pumps loudly in my ears as his broom flies all over the place, and it starts vibrating so hard I fear for Harry's life. Fred and George come up as well, trying to pull him off his broom. It doesn't work though, because every time they get near they almost get hit, and the broom just jumps higher. Angelina calls me over, and begrudgingly, I watch as the twins take up my spot, circling beneath him. No one focuses on the game, and I barely glance at Flint as he scores five times. I find myself chewing my fingernails on one hand, my eyes frantically searching for Ron and Hermione down in the crowd to see if they can do anything. However, Hermione is nowhere to be seen. Ron is searching the Professor's stands while Hagrid, who must've appeared at some point during the game, is watching Harry through his binoculars. I follow Ron's line of sight and gasp as I see Snape's robes on fire. Glancing back at Ron, I see him smiling happily, then looking back up at Harry. I snap my eyes back to my brother. Suddenly, he clambers back on his broom and speeds off. I breathe a sigh of relief, mentally filing away a note to talk with Ron and Hermione later. The game begins again, but not thirty seconds later Harry speeds towards to ground. He claps his hand over his mouth and hits the field on all fours. I swing my broom around, looking to see if he's alright. He coughs, and I can't believe my eyes as something gold falls into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch," he yells, waving it above his hand.

I stare in complete confusion as the game ends.

"HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!" Lee Jordan yells. "Gryffindor has won the game."

Deafening cheers erupt from the stands as I fly back down to the ground, where Harry is being congratulated and ruffled over the head by our fellow Quidditch members. I grin as I dismount my broom and make my way over to him. I whoop as I wrap him in a massive hug.

"Oh my god, Harry. You did so well," I congratulate him, all worries of the game evaporating.

He grins, and I let go of him to let him enjoy the praise from the rest of the Gryffindors.

Twenty minutes later, Flint is still complaining we didn't win the game properly while Lee is still shouting out the results. Hermione and Ron catch up to us, and we head down to Hagrid's hut to have a cup of tea. My worries come back to me as I remember the commotion from Harry's broom.

'It was Snape," Ron explains. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick Harry, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

I gasp as he says this, not wanting to believe it.

"Rubbish," Hagrid says. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

The four of us exchange a look before telling him.

"I found out something about him," Harry stars cautiously. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

A smash sounds as Hagrid drops the teapot he was holding.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he asks incredulously.

"Fluffy?" I ask, astounded.

Hagrid looks at me.

"Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub last' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –"

"Yes?" Harry jumps in.

Hagrid looks angry.

"Now, don't ask me anymore. That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it," Ron cuts in.

"Rubbish," Hagrid repeats. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

I glance at Hermione as he says that, raising my eyebrows. Before we had believed that, but I wasn't so sure anymore.

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" she cries, agreeing with me. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid."

I nod my head, supporting her statement.

'I've read all about them!" she continues. "You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

Hagrid looks ready to burst.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" he says angrily. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student!"

Ron scoffs at this.

"Now, listen to me, all three of yeh," Hagrid continues, ignoring him. "Yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-"

My ears perk up at that. Flamel.

"Aha!" Harry says. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid stutters, looking furious with himself. He shoos us off, and the four of us eave his cabin, much happier than we came in.

"Nicolas Flamel," I say. "I'm sure I've read that before."

Frustrated, I pull at my hair.

"Oh, where did I read it?"

All I receive is empty looks. I groan, racing my mind. But for the life of me, I can't remember.

"Darn it," I sigh.

I little bit of familiar stuff here, I know, but it's sort of an important part of the story, so I wanted to include it.