Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

AN: This is the second chapter of a double-update. If you have not read Chapter 17 which posted about an hour ago, go back and read it first or risk confusion and unanswered questions.

CHAPTER 18: Quidditch and Mayhem

15 November 1991

The first Quidditch match of the season looked to be even more dramatic than Harry had expected what with the traditional rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin plus the involvement of the Git-Who-Lived and the drama which always surrounded him. The rival captains, Oliver Wood for the Lions and Marcus Flint for the Snakes, hated each other with a violent passion. The Gryffs had better teamwork but an untested Seeker. The Slytherins had stronger individual players but poor coordination and a strong preference for brute force over efficient game play. Terence Higgs was a highly competent and experienced Seventh Year Seeker who had been undefeated the previous two seasons, but Flint (in his first year as captain) literally had to be beg him to come back and play during his NEWTS year. The Chasers were Flint and Pucey (both talented veterans), plus Graham Montague, Rodney's little brother who was a Second Year new to the team. Keeper Miles Bletchley was also a Second Year and equally inexperienced. Overall, while the team had dominated the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup for the last several seasons, this would probably be a rebuilding year. The battle plan, as Harry understood it, was to bully the Gryffs and keep them off balance and then let Higgs find the Snitch while Jim was still trying to figure out which end of the broom was the front.

For the first fifteen minutes or so, the Snakes dominated 40-10 when there was a sudden commotion centered on Jim. The boy seemed to have lost control of his broom, which was shaking madly as if it were trying to throw him off. Harry watched his brother through a set of omnoculars with ... not concern so much as curiosity, as if he couldn't quite divine the purpose of what he was seeing.

"It looks like someone has hexed Potter's broom!" exclaimed Theo. "I didn't think that was possible!"

"It shouldn't be," said Blaise Zabini who was sitting nearby. "Granted, whoever is doing it is an idiot. All they're doing is shaking Potter's broom hard. You'd think they'd just turn off the broom's enchantments and let him fall."

"No," said Harry calmly. "The person responsible is exceptionally powerful and cunning. He's just facing unexpected opposition." Harry had turned his omnoculars away from his brother's plight towards that section of the stands where the faculty and guests were seated. His birth parents were both there, as James had come to Hogwarts for his son's inaugural performance which now looked to be a disaster in the making. He, Lily and several other teachers already had their wands out ready to catch Jim if he fell. Behind them all, Harry could see his prime suspect, Quirrell, whose eyes were fixed and unblinking as he subvocalized some spell. Snape sat a few rows behind him, doing the same. Clearly, one was jinxing Jim's broom and the other was casting a counter-jinx.

Suddenly, to Harry's surprise, Hermione showed up in the faculty-visitor stands, forcefully pushing her way through the crowd. At one point, she bumped into Quirrell, practically bowling the man over. Harry spared a glance back up at Jim and saw that his broom stabilized almost instantly. Then, he looked back at the faculty stands in time to see Hermione dart down the tunnel just past where Snape was still sitting. A few seconds later, the Potions Master jumped up in alarm, as the hem of his robes had somehow caught fire.

Harry laughed. "Oh, that's my girl. That is priceless! Comedy gold!" He looked back at Quirrell who was distracted by both Snape's efforts to stamp out the fire and the resultant jostling of the crowd. Finally, shouts from the Slytherins around him brought his attention back to the match. The Git had apparently seen the Snitch and gone into a power dive. Unfortunately, Higgs was on the far side of the stadium when Potter made his move, and though he desperately skillfully winded his way through the other players to catch up with Potter, it was too late. Near the ground, Jim lost control of his broom and crashed into the ground, which would have been hilarious if the Git hadn't managed to nearly swallow the Snitch while tumbling across the turf. Flint was almost berserk as, according to him, the rules clearly called for the Snitch to be caught by hand and not by mouth. Madame Hooch, who had little love for the Slytherins' style of game play, disagreed and called the game in favor of the Gryffindors.

Leaving the pitch, Harry noticed in the distance that the Potters were with Dumbledore gesturing angrily at the old man, while Snape followed close behind walking with as much dignity as he could muster with smoldering robes. Closer by, Harry saw the groundskeeper, Hagrid, escorting an injured Jim to his hut, with Hermione, Neville and Ron following behind. Harry headed towards that direction but soon realized that Theo and, to his surprise, Blaise Zabini, were following him. Theo was expected, but Zabini was a new development.

"Can I help you, Mr. Zabini?"

The other boy smiled. "I hope so, Mr. Potter. A few weeks back, you invited me to join Miss Granger's study sessions. I declined at the time, but I find myself disappointed with my progress in several classes. I was wondering if your invitation was still open?"

Harry, who knew perfectly well that Blaise was one of his closest academic rivals in Slytherin House and that he didn't need the least bit of tutoring, raised his chin and crooked an eyebrow. "Can you resist the temptation to insult anyone's parentage for several hours at a time?" he said archly.

"If everyone can go that long without insulting my own parentage, then certainly," he replied evenly.

Harry stared at the boy for several seconds, almost long enough to make it uncomfortable for all concerned. One thing he'd learned since his Sorting was that there were two kinds of Slytherins: the ones with bigotries ... and the ones with agendas. He strongly suspected Zabini of being the latter, but wasn't sure what sort of agenda it was. So he decided to test a theory he'd been developing since Halloween.

"Then let us agree ... to be excellent to each other, Mr. Zabini" he said.

The other boy inhaled sharply, as if Harry Potter had just publicly exposed one of Zabini's deepest, darkest secrets, one that he had never shared with another living soul. Then, he composed himself ... and smiled warmly.

"Party on, Mr. Potter," he replied as the two reached out and shook hands.

Theo looked back and forth between the two during the odd exchange. "Was ... was that ... a code of some kind?" he asked in confusion.

"Of a sort," said Harry. "By the way, I do hope you will call me Harry from now on, Mr. Zabini."

"Only if you will both call me Blaise."

"Certainly. I'll discuss the matter with Hermione, but I doubt it will be a problem. We meet on Tuesdays after last period and Fridays after lunch," said Harry.

"I look forward to it," said Blaise before offering a slight bow and heading towards the castle. Harry watched him go with a bemused expression before heading on to Hagrid's hut – Theo following behind somewhat nervously – where he knocked boldly on the door. After a second, the huge man opened the door and looked down at the two Slytherins in surprise.

"Mr. Hagrid!" exclaimed Harry cheerfully. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Harry Potter, Jim's older brother. This is my friend, Theodore Nott. I noticed that one of my other friends, Hermione Granger, was headed this way. Is she still here by any chance?"

"Um, well, ah," Hagrid stammered before Hermione called out. "It's alright, Hagrid, you can let them in." He reluctantly stepped out of the way, and the two boys entered the small hut, which was becoming crowded with two Slytherins, four Gryffindors, a half-giant and what looked like a large boar-hound snoring loudly off in a corner.

Jim, who was sitting at a table with an ice pack held against his forehead, said angrily, "What do you and your snake friend want?"

"Good question. A better one is 'why are you getting medical treatment from the groundskeeper when we have a fully stocked infirmary staffed by a professional mediwitch?' Then again, forget I asked. I'm sure the answer is ridiculous. Anyway, Little Brother," Jim practically snarled at that, "we're here because Theo and I noticed that you were having problems with your broom, and we were curious at to Hermione's thoughts as to the cause." He looked directly at Hermione and smirked. "I'm practically burning with curiosity."

Hermione crossed her arms and huffed at him in annoyance, while Neville pretended to cough to cover up his laugh. It was Ron who answered, though.

"I'm surprised you don't know, snake! It was that greasy git, Snape! He hexed Jim's broom!"

"Here now," said Hagrid, who was busy setting out a pot of tea and looking about for some extra cups. "Tha's jus' nonsense. Snape's a Hogwart's perfessor. Why would he want to harm Jim?"

"Quite right, Hagrid," said Harry cheerfully, as he picked up one of the cups, inspected it briefly, and began to wipe it clean with the hem of his robe. "It's ridiculous to think that Professor Snape would do such a thing."

"Harry," said Hermione regretfully, "I know he's your Head of House, but it's true. I saw him. The whole time Jim's broom was being jinxed, Professor Snape was staring at him without blinking and muttering to himself. You have to maintain constant concentration to maintain a jinx against the protective wards on a Quidditch broom."

"Oh, I know that full well, Hermione," Harry said amiably as he poured tea for everyone. "After Daddy sent that Nimbus 2000 to Jim in the front of the whole school during breakfast last month, I took an avid interest in brooms and especially in how susceptible they might be to jinxes, hexes and curses. Just personal curiosity, you understand." Jim and Ron looked at Harry as if he'd just confessed to plotting murder. Hermione merely rolled her eyes while Neville shook his head.

"Dammit, Harry, you promised!" said Neville reproachfully.

"We agreed no death, dismemberment or permanent injuries, Neville. I was simply investigating whether it was possible to hex a Nimbus so that the rider's clothes would vanish if he ever got near a Snitch."

"You son of a bitch!" exclaimed Jim furiously.

"Jim!" exclaimed Harry. "That's our mother you're insulting! Anyway, such magic is currently beyond me. For the moment, at least." He smiled evilly at his brother. "The defensive spells on a Nimbus 2000 are state-of-the-art and so strong that only someone skilled in the most obscure of Dark Arts would be able to jinx one at all, let alone in a truly dangerous way."

"Das' very true, Harry," said Hagrid. "Rock cake?" The huge man held a plate of dark brown ... things out to Harry and Theo. Behind him, Hermione and Neville frantically started waving their hands back and forth while mouthing "No!"

"You're very kind, Hagrid," Harry said smoothly, "but dinner will start soon, and Theo and I shouldn't spoil our appetites." Hagrid looked disappointed but then shrugged and bit into one of the cakes himself with a frightening crunch.

"Be that as it may," continued Hermione, "if anyone at Hogwarts is capable of such Dark Arts, it's probably Professor Snape."

"Yes," said Harry, "unless it's, oh I don't know, the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, maybe? Who, by the way, was also maintaining unblinking eye contact and muttering the whole time Jim's broom was bucking like a bronco, at least until you knocked him over en route to your little arson attempt."

Hermione sniffed in annoyance. "Honestly, Harry. It was just Bluebell Flames. There was no danger of actually burning Professor Snape. You make me sound like a pyromaniac or something."

Jim interrupted at that point. "Hang on, forget about the blasted Bluebell Flames. You're saying Quirrell was the one who tried to kill me?"

"I'm quite certain of it. Hermione, you were distracted by your focus on Professor Snape, but from my vantage point, I could see the whole thing. As soon as you knocked Professor Quirrell over, the interference with Jim's broom stopped immediately." He considered for a moment. "You know, looking back on it, it was very fortunate that the two were seated as they were. It would have been just ... tragic if you could have gotten to Snape without passing by Quirrell first. You might have distracted the man casting the counter-jinx, leaving the actual jinx in place, in which case Little Brother here would be a gory splat all over the Quidditch field turf."

Hermione blanched, while Jim raised his chin defiantly. "I'd have survived. There were plenty of wizards who could have caught me if I'd fallen."

"That's a good point, actually," said Neville. "Whether it was Snape or Quirrell, what did he hope to gain by making Jim fall off his broom in front of nearly a thousand witnesses, any number of whom could have easily caught him with a Levitation Charm?"

Harry took a sip of tea and then shook his head. "Oh, I'm sure that wasn't the plan. Professor Quirrell was actually quite clever, but he didn't anticipate someone noticing him and blocking his jinx. I imagine his goal was to take direct control of the broom and then just fly it into the ground at its maximum speed, thereby splattering Jim all over the turf like a sack of overripe tomatoes." The Gryffindors looked varying shades of green at his casual description. "Everyone would have assumed that Jim had thought he'd seen the Snitch and flown after it too fast, only to lose control. There is a reason after all, that the school doesn't normally allow First Years to even keep brooms on campus, let alone play on house teams while riding top-of-the-line racing models designed for professional matches. The Boy-Who-Lived would be dead or critically injured in a tragic but perfectly foreseeable Quidditch mishap. So sad. So very, very sad," Harry said in a tone that did not suggest the tiniest bit of sadness. "And then, most likely, the Headmaster would have been blamed for bending the rules to let Jim play at all and probably even be forced out of his position, thereby leaving whatever the Cerberus is guarding more vulnerable."

"How do you know about that?!" exclaimed Ron. Harry gave him an almost pitying look.

"Yeah, how d'yer know 'bout Fluffy?" asked Hagrid in agitation. Behind him, Neville mouthed in astonishment "Fluffy?!"

"Purely by second hand knowledge, I assure you," said Harry evenly. "I only bring it up to show that Quirrell is much more dangerous than he appears. And I want you and you," he said pointing at Hermione and Neville, "to stay away from him." Then, he looked over at Jim. "You, on the other hand, can go poke him with a stick for all I care."

Jim just made a face at his brother as Hagrid spoke up. "Well, all of ya's stay away from that corridor and from Fluffy. What he's guardin' is no concern o' yers! It's strictly between Perfessor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel! ... I shouldn't ha' said tha'!"

Harry inhaled sharply, closed his eyes and started massaging his temples as Hermione's eyes lit up in excitement. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!" he thought. "She's got a research project now! I've got a few months at most before she puzzles out who this Flamel bloke is, and then ..."

"What, the Nicholas Flamel?" piped up a surprised Theo, who had been sitting quietly all this time. "The alchemist? The one who made the Philosopher's Stone?"

"GAAAAAAH!"

The next update will post on Monday, June 8th, between 4 and 6 pm (CST). It will be Snape-centric for those who've been looking forward to that. Be warned. He might be sarcastic at some point.