HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET ENEMY
Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.
CHAPTER 26: Quidditch and Mayhem ... Again
7 November 1992
As the crowd roared in excitement, the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams met in the center of the pitch to shake hands before the start of the first game of the season. Draco spent a few minutes studying Jim Potter, his rival Seeker. The boy seemed incredibly tense and yet also rather exhausted, with obvious bags under his eyes. He also seemed to ignore Draco completely and instead fixed all his attention on Harry who was barely paying his brother any mind at all. After demanding (with little hope of compliance) a "good clean game," Madame Hooch blew her whistle, and the two teams took to the air. Jim flew up high above the other players before finally noticing that Draco was following him instead of Harry.
"What are you doing up here, Malfoy?" Jim said contemptuously.
"Looking for the Golden Snitch, Potter. It's what Seekers do."
Jim laughed. "So Flint decided to swap you and Harry after his fiasco last September?"
"Oh no," said Draco easily. "I've always been the Seeker, and your brother's always been a Chaser. We just thought it would be fun to switch during that pick-up game. You know – for a laugh."
And then, Draco smiled at the Boy-Who-Lived.
He'd actually been put out the night before when Harry had stood him in front of a bathroom mirror for twenty minutes and made him practice a certain kind of smile, one that Harry said would communicate a message of "I know something you don't know." But seeing the expression of dread that slowly spread over Jim Potter's face suddenly gave Draco a new appreciation for Harry's skill at psychological warfare. For the first time, Draco actually knew what it felt like to be on Team Harry.
Down below, the well-oiled Gryffindor scoring machine – Spinnet, Johnson and Bell – was racing towards the Slytherin goal. Near the goal post, Bell took the lead, performing her specialty fake-out maneuver to get Keeper Miles Bletchley to veer left before hurling the Quaffle through the right goal. And for a second it seemed like it would work as it usually did ... until Bletchley suddenly veered in the opposite direction and slipped into blocking position just as she let go of the ball. It was almost as if he was anticipating the play. Even more surprising to Bell was the way Bletchley casually knocked the Quaffle straight down into the waiting arms of Adrian Pucey who had already circled around into position to catch it and take off. Pucey flew down the field like a rocket, weaving around Peregrine Derrick who expertly batted a Bludger away and into Spinnet's path forcing her to abandon pursuit. Pucey handed the Quaffle off to Flint who threw it down the field to Harry Potter, and the Second Year immediately took off towards the Gryffindor goals. Oliver Wood readied himself to block, but to his shock, Harry threw the Quaffle back over his shoulder without even looking and then veered off. Pucey was already sweeping round and up in a fast arc to catch it, and he threw the ball through the opposite goal post before Wood could reposition itself.
Up in the announcer's booth, Lee Jordan was so astonished by the Slytherins' teamwork that he couldn't think of anything insulting to say. Oliver Wood was completely gobsmacked at a perfectly executed play that would have made a professional Quidditch scout sit up and take notice, while high above the stadium, Jim Potter was just as amazed.
"... the hell?" he muttered quietly to himself.
"What? Did we score or something?" said Draco amiably. "I've been concentrating too hard on spotting the Snitch to notice the regular game play. It's quite challenging, you know. Why the Snitch might as well be invisible!"
Jim turned to scowl at him. "What did you say?"
"I said the Snitch is hard to spot from up here. What did you think I said?" And then, Draco smiled at Jim again.
Jim grunted angrily at his rival Seeker and tried to focus his attention on finding the Snitch himself. But he was increasingly distracted by the activity beneath him, and he couldn't help but watch with mounting frustration as the Slytherins methodically took apart the Gryffindor team. Bletchley seemed to read every Chaser play. Derrick and Bole seemed to break up every attempt by the Weasley Twins to set up a Bludger attack. And an increasingly frazzled Oliver Wood found himself unable to defend the goals against Slytherin Chasers who casually triple-teamed him and seemed able to fake him out at will.
Just thirty minutes into the game, the score was 90-10 in favor of Slytherin, and there was no sign of the Snitch. For an instant, Jim had thought that the game couldn't get any worse. Then, as if in response to that idea, the Slytherins in the stands stood up and began to sing in perfect unison and to the tune of "God Save the Queen."
King of the Leprechauns
His brains are made of bronze
He makes us sick.
It's really obvious that
Jim is a total prat
Smart as a Beater's Bat
and just as thick.
George shook his head as Fred flew by. "Can I just say once again, Brother-of-Mine," he said just loud enough for Fred to hear, "what a bad idea that prank was?"
Fred grimaced. "Save the I-told-you-so until after our current humiliation is over please." Inside though, Fred was cringing. He'd never anticipated that their little prank against Jim from two months before would become a weapon in the hands of the Slytherins against their prized Seeker. Of course, neither of the Weasley Twins ever imagined back then that over the course of two months, brash, overconfident Jim Potter would collapse into an emotional wreck. At this point, Fred thought it would take some kind of miracle for Gryffindor to get back into the game, not realizing that miracles, of course, sometimes come in strange packages.
As Harry recovered the Quaffle and rounded towards the Gryffindor goals with Pucey following behind, he suddenly heard Bole scream "HARRY! LOOK OUT!" Acting on instinct, Harry pulled up sharply and narrowly dodged one of the Bludgers. He glanced back at it and was surprised to see it arc sharply and head back towards him, ignoring three other viable targets in the process. Pouring on the speed, Harry took off towards the center Gryffindor goal. At the last second, he threw the Quaffle off to Flint and then arced up so that his feet cleared the top of the goal by less than a foot. The rogue Bludger, which was traveling in a slightly shallower arc, actually struck the top of the metal goal with a tremendous force – BOONNNGGG! – that startled the now somewhat shell-shocked Oliver Wood and allowed Flint to score Slytherin's tenth goal of the game.
As soon as the Quaffle went through, Flint immediately started looking for the rogue Bludger which had corrected itself almost immediately and resumed its pursuit of Harry Potter.
"TIME OUT!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. Madame Hooch blew her whistle, and at Flint's direction, the rest of the team (minus Harry) quickly assembled at the center of the pitch. Flint signaled to Harry, who came in low with the rogue Bludger following close behind. As it passed through the Slytherins, the two Beaters leaped into it, but even they were surprised when the wretched thing actually drug them twenty feet across the grass before finally coming to a halt. Even then, it struggled against their combined grip, and Bletchley had to leap onto it as well in order to bring it to heel.
"WEASLEYS!" Marcus yelled towards the Gryffindor Beaters who were coming in for a landing for their own team meeting. "WAS THIS YOUR DOING?!
"Take it easy, Flint!" George yelled back. "We didn't jinx the Bludgers! Hell, I didn't think it was possible to jinx a Bludger!"
"The two biggest prank-loving arseheads in the whole school are also the Gryffindor Beaters, and it's just a coincidence that one of the Bludger's goes berserk?! You really expect me to believe that you two wankers aren't behind this?!"
An angry Fred took a step towards the Slytherin, but George put a firm arm to stop him. "If we could jinx a Bludger, Flint," George said, "we might use it against you, and we'd probably use it against that bigoted prat Bletchley. But we would never use something like that against Harry!"
"Leave it, Flint," said a breathless Harry, who'd come up behind him, followed by Draco. "I know the Twins, and this wasn't them."
"Then who the hell was it?" Flint responded.
"I don't know. Probably the same person responsible for the last two assassination attempts on me. Though this one seems almost lackluster compared to the doxies and the killer train." Later on, Harry would remember saying that and marvel at his lack of imagination and forethought.
Meanwhile, up in the stands, Ron Weasley carefully made his way through the Gryffindor crowd while carrying a box holding a jumbo pumpkin juice slushie, an extra-large tub of popcorn, and a half-dozen chocolate bars of varying brands. Seamus let out an annoyed "Ouch!" as Ron slid past him and accidentally stepped on his foot.
"Where have you been?" exclaimed Dean Thomas.
"Well, the line for the bathroom was long. And then, the line for the concession stand was longer. So much so that by the time I finished buying the concessions, I needed to use the bathroom again." With that, Ron took a long drag on the straw sticking out of the slushie. "Did I miss anything exciting?"
At that point, Madame Hooch came flying up. "Flint, you seem to have a rogue Bludger on your hands. The rules say you can continue the game or stop the match and count it as a tie under the Defective Bludger Rule. Your call."
While certainly suspicious under these circumstances, rogue Bludgers were not unheard of. The enchantments placed on Bludgers make them immune to all but the most powerful forms of dark magic, but despite that, every three or four years would see a match in which a Bludger becomes strangely fixated on a particular player and targets him or her to the exclusion of everyone else. Furthermore, whatever peculiarity caused the strange phenomenon, it could not be remedied just by replacing the defective Bludger with another one – the magic of the Bludgers is interwoven with each individual game, and a new Bludger put into play immediately adopts the exact same predatory conduct of the one it replaced. Thus, the only practical response was the Defective Bludger Rule, which allows the team containing the member targeted by the rogue Bludger the option of cancelling the game in favor of a tie or playing on despite the handicap... and the risk.
For a second, Flint looked agonized. Then, Harry grabbed his arm. "Keep playing. I can dodge a Bludger as long as you need me to."
"Harry..." Flint started to protest.
"Trust me. I've got this. I won't be able to make plays with you and Pucey, but maybe I can use the Bludger to disrupt the Gryff Chasers." Harry turned towards Draco. "How's the Git holding out?"
"He was starting to lose it, but it looks like Wood's giving him a pep talk now."
"Stay on him. Turn up the heat. And catch that Snitch! I know you can beat him, Draco!" Harry put his hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed, and to Malfoy's surprise, he really did think that Harry believed in him, even when up against a prodigy like Jim. He nodded back with absolute seriousness.
Harry, Marcus, Adrian and Draco took to the skies. Seconds later, the other three Slytherins let the rogue Bludger go and then grabbed their own brooms. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and play resumed, this time with Harry focused solely on evading his relentless pursuer. Meanwhile, Draco flew up to match Jim's altitude close enough to talk.
"Is this how you Gryffindor's win, Potter? Cheating with a rigged Bludger? Or are you just trying to kill your brother again in an even more public manner than last time?"
"Sod off, Malfoy!" Jim snarled.
"I hate you. I hate you. I wish you'd died!" Draco said in a mocking nasally whine. "Half the school heard you yell that at Harry last week, Potter. You think there's a single student outside of Gryffindor House who doesn't think you're behind this?!"
"I SAID SOD OFF!"
Draco snickered at the other boy but then tensed slightly. The good news was that the Snitch had finally shown up. The bad news was that it was floating ten feet behind Jim Potter, and if the other Seeker noticed it, Draco wouldn't stand a chance. Schooling his face back into a mask of contempt, Draco decided that there was only one thing to do: keep Jim Potter shouting in a rage so that he didn't notice the sound of the Snitch's wings until Draco could distract him and then go after his prize.
Down below, Harry was having some success using the rogue Bludger to shake up the Gryffindor Chasers' screen patterns. Also, the whole situation had incensed Miles Bletchley. He might not have normally cared much for a Halfblood like Harry Potter, but this was Quidditch! In response, the angry Keeper had kicked his own defense into a furious overdrive. Between the two of them, the Gryffindors were held scoreless. Unfortunately, with only two Slytherin Chasers, Oliver Wood had gotten his own act together and was able to hold the Slytherins to only two more goals. After another fifteen minutes, the was now 120-10, so the Slytherins needed 50 more points for a Seeker-proof game.
"Still, if nothing else weird happens," thought Harry, "we may actually have this in the bag." Belatedly, he realized that he was challenging Blaise's gods of irony.
Elsewhere on the field, Lucian Bole had just knocked the other Bludger towards Katie Bell when it abruptly stopped in mid-air, quivered for a few seconds, and then rocketed off in the direction of Harry Potter. "Oh you are shitting me!" exclaimed a furious Bole.
Harry was focused solely on speed and evasion when his attention was captured by the loud repeated clanging sounds from behind him. Sparing a glance behind him, Harry was shocked to see that there were now two Bludgers on his tail, and the clanging sound was caused by them bumping into each other, apparently in a mutual desire to drive the other off course. Harry actually laughed. "Unbelievable! Two rogue Bludgers! And they're fighting over which one gets to pound me into beefsteak!"
Unable to shake one, let alone two Bludgers, Harry poured on the speed and set a course to skirt just inside the arena's retaining wall. He hoped that with a little luck one of the Bludgers would knock the other into the wall and perhaps disable it. His thoughts were on the right track. After a few seconds, the second Bludger veered off course by a few yards and then slammed back into the first so hard that it blasted through the retaining wall, leaving a five-foot diameter hole in it. From somewhere behind him, Harry heard the sounds of wood being smashed, presumably as the first Bludger tore through the support struts for the audience stands. He hoped they were strong enough to resist collapsing with over a thousand spectators on hand. Then, he heard a different sound: a loud metallic SHITANG! He spared another glance behind and was so horrified he nearly lost control of his broom. The second Bludger was now only five feet or so behind him.
And it was now covered in ten-inch-long stiletto spikes.
Harry cursed and poured on even more speed. Given his current velocity and the Bludger's normal weight, an impact with those spikes was almost certain to be fatal. "Almost?" he thought. "Who am I kidding! The way my luck works, they're also poisoned!" With that cheerful thought, Harry shot up, hoping that a higher elevation would give him more room to maneuver and put some distance between himself the deadly projectile closing on his tail.
Up above, Draco and Jim had been virtually ignoring the events below. Jim was now shouting almost incoherently at the Slytherin, who was playing his favorite role of Obnoxious Pureblood Prat to the hilt, when the Snitch suddenly got bored and darted straight down. "Finally!" thought Draco.
"IF YOU THINK I CARE WHAT A FILTHY DEATH EATER WANNABEE SCUMBAG LIKE YOU SAYS, YOU CAN GO STRAIGHT...!"
"Bye now!" yelled Draco as he dove underneath Jim in a blast of speed. He actually gave the Git a jaunty wave as he flew.
Jim watched him go in confusion for a few precious seconds and then realized the Pureblood was after the Snitch. "Sonovabitch!" the Boy-Who-Lived said through gritted teeth as he reoriented his broom and took off after the other Seeker. By that point, Draco was near the grass and following the Snitch along the edge of the stands. Suddenly, about fifty feet straight ahead, the first Bludger that had gone underneath the stands finally blasted its way back out again, leaving a spray of wooden debris and a ten-foot-wide hole in the retaining wall. To Draco's dismay, the Snitch immediately darted into the opening and took off underneath the bleachers.
"I am going to die now," Draco said to himself with surprising calm. Then, he darted through the opening after the Snitch with Jim Potter hot on his tail.
Oblivious to Draco's apparent suicide attempt, Harry was high above the stadium dodging the spiked Bludger when its partner in crime reappeared and shot up towards him. In desperation, Harry performed a cork-screw turn that he hadn't thought was possible on a broom but which allowed him to dodge both Bludgers and head back towards the ground. There was another clang behind him. He spared a look back and saw that the smooth Bludger had sheered off several of the spiked Bludger's blades before veering away out of control. He smiled for a second until he back ahead and saw, to his horror, that the majority of both teams were spread out across the field directly in front of him and he was too low to fly safely over them. Every flight path he could see would have him leading the spiked Bludger either through a cluster of Quidditch players or into the spectator stands. Every path but one. Gritting his teeth, he veered sharply to the left and flew through the first hole in the retaining wall that had been blasted open earlier by the smooth Bludger. Immediately, he was in an obstacle course, flying over, under and around the various wooden struts supporting the bleachers.
Absurdly, Harry was immediately reminded of the Star Wars trilogy which Hermione and Blaise had both insisted that he watch the previous Summer. Each movie had a scene like this in which the protagonists had to dive into a metal trench, a forest, an asteroid field or some other obstacle course with death hot on their heels. He laughed again, giving himself fully over his Gryffindor side, that normally constrained part of his psyche that was utterly reckless and knew no fear. "Help me Obi-Wan! You're my only hope!" On he flew, with the spiked Bludger smashing through all obstacles as it drew ever closer.
Underneath the bleachers on the opposite side of the arena, Draco was rapidly becoming frustrated. He was good, very good on a broom, especially for a twelve-year-old. But Jim Potter was quite plainly was on the cusp of becoming a legend. Despite Malfoy's best efforts to navigate the maze of wooden struts and supports through which they were flying, Jim soon caught and then passed him. At that point, Draco realized, it would take a miracle to catch the Snitch.
And then, a miracle happened.
Coming from the opposite direction, Harry Potter blew past both Jim and Draco. He wasn't sure, but Draco could have sworn the other boy was laughing in delight. Right on Harry's tail was what Draco thought was some kind of BLUDGER FROM HELL that came smashing through the struts and support columns like they were paper. A huge blast of debris hit Jim full on. He cried out and was forced to slow for a few seconds. Draco seized the moment and darted past him. Ahead, the path was clear of obstructions, all of which had been blasted through by the spiked Bludger, yet the space was still confined enough for Draco to block Jim from passing him again.
Harry continued his evasive maneuvers until he could see light up ahead: the other hole leading back out onto the pitch. He tore through it and arced around between the Gryffindor goal posts riding close to the ground. The other players were up ahead still but he had time to maneuver. And he had a plan. "Well, more of a desperate hope, really," he thought. "Still, it worked last time. Maybe it will work even better on this one." He flew straight down the field, waving his hands wildly at the other players to move them out of the way. Not knowing what his plan was but not wanting to die a horrible spiky death, all the other players cleared a path. He continued waving off the Slytherin Keeper Miles Bletchley, who finally moved off to one side once he realized that Potter was aiming straight for the central goal post. Then, at nearly the last possible second, Harry started his ascent.
"Okay," he thought. "Time to find out how good I really am on this stick."
The first time when Harry had led the smooth Bludger to a goalpost, he'd cleared the top by less than a foot and the smooth Bludger had bounced off the rim. But this Bludger was covered in spikes, and this time, Harry was aiming for the bottom rim where the ring met the support column. The spiked Bludger tore through wood easily, but the central column was five feet in diameter and magically-reinforced stone. Harry aimed for the very lip of the circle with the Bludger just a few feet behind. At the last possible second, Harry threw his upper body forward and extended his arms while lifting his legs back and up. And for the space of a single breath, Harry Potter wasn't riding his broom anymore. He was flying a few inches above it.
Like Superman.
Harry's broom passed over the edge of the goal with barely an inch to spare. Behind him, there was a satisfying CLANG as the spiked Bludger impacted with the goalpost hard enough to embed its spikes almost six inches into the marble, where it remained stuck.
"Bloody hell," whispered an awestruck Miles Bletchley as he stared in wonder at the trapped Bludger which was shaking in impotent fury as it tried unsuccessfully to pull free. Meanwhile, Harry had instantly grabbed back hold of his broom and remounted. Then, he twisted up and back over the pitch while desperately searching for the other Bludger.
"Oh," he thought to himself with a mixture of surprise and sadness. "There it is."
Five yards away from his head.
4
3
2
1
Lights out!
At almost the same time, the Snitch darted back out through the first hole, followed by Draco with Jim right behind him. Jim quickly pulled up beside Draco. Up ahead, they could both only watch helplessly as the first Bludger struck Harry in the head and knocked him off his broom from an altitude of well over 200 feet.
"YOUR BROTHER MAY HAVE JUST BEEN KILLED RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, GIT! DO YOU EVEN CARE?!" Draco yelled furiously to Jim.
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, DEATH EATER! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!"
"I KNOW ONE THING! I KNOW YOU'RE NOT GETTING THAT SNITCH!"
True Quidditch enthusiasts know that there is one Seeker maneuver above all others which is the most reckless, most dangerous and most rarely used: The Suicide Slam. First performed by the winning Seeker in the 1913 Quidditch World Cup, it had been used by truly desperate Seekers only eight times since. Every time it had been used, it resulted in some kind of injury to the Seeker and on one occasion a fatality. Draco, of course, was aware of the Suicide Slam's history, but he'd always believed that it was only ever used by lunatics. Now, in this exact moment, he came to a different conclusion: that it was only used by Seekers for whom the thought of losing had suddenly become intolerable.
With a furious grunt, Draco jumped up and landed on his broom with both feet. For a few impossible seconds, a Muggleborn observer would have thought he was riding the broom like a surfboard. Then, his weight distribution caused the front of the broom to suddenly tip straight down. The instantaneous change of axis while at top speed caused the broom's flight enchantments to go completely haywire. The result was a sudden shockwave of horizontal force that propelled Malfoy forward at tremendous speed, past the astounded Jim Potter. His right hand closed around the Snitch, while he raised his left arm up to guard his face.
"I really hope I don't die from this," he thought. "Mother will never let me hear the end of it."
Draco hit the ground with terrific force and then bounced, flipped, skidded, and rolled nearly fifty feet. The first snap was merely surprising. By the third, Draco was becoming slightly alarmed. Luckily, adrenaline and shock combined to make sure he didn't feel any pain ... yet. When he finally came to a rest, he thrust his right hand up in the air to show that he'd caught the Snitch. And the crowd, which had been screaming in horror at Harry's injury, now roared its approval.
Harry, of course, didn't fall to the ground. He was high enough that there was plenty of time for Dumbledore to catch him with a Levitation spell and float him down to the pitch quite near where Draco was lying still and willing himself not to cry from pain. Part of him realized that a week earlier he'd be blubbering like a four-year-old girl and calling for his mummy, but something had just changed in him that suddenly made such public weakness unacceptable. Immediately, the Slytherin team swarmed around the two players while the ecstatic Slytherin student body poured down onto the pitch in near-delirium. Then, Professor Snape's voice boomed out across the stadium thanks to an Amplification Charm.
"MR. FLINT, SEE THAT NO ONE MOVES OR EVEN TOUCHES EITHER MR. POTTER OR MR. MALFOY UNTIL THEY HAVE RECEIVED MEDICAL REVIEW!'
Moments later, Snape and Lockhart ran up to the two injured boys to perform diagnostic spells.
"Mr. Potter has a severe concussion and a hairline fracture in his skull," said Snape. "He is otherwise unharmed, which is frankly miraculous. Mr. Flint, summon a levitating stretcher for him. His spine is undamaged so he can be moved, but be gentle."
Meanwhile, Lockhart was examining Draco and called out the results for Snape. "Mr. Malfoy has mostly minor cuts and bruises but two complete breaks in his left humerus, one in his left ulna. Also a dislocated kneecap. Hold still, Mr. Malfoy, and I'll have you fixed up in a jiffy."
"Ahem," said a dignified voice from behind him. "I think I should prefer for my son to be examined by a medical professional, if you don't mind."
Lockhart glanced back to see Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy standing over him with expressions that were at once imperious and concerned.
"Oh for pity's sake, Lucius," said Lockhart with some annoyance. "It's just basic first aid. I'll be teaching a unit on it for all seven years next January." With that, he touched his wand to Draco's arm. "BRACKIUM EMENDO!" A warm light flowed out of his wand to envelop Draco's injured arm. The boy gasped at the sudden sharp pain of his arm bones shifting, but he was then surprised to feel the pain disappear almost completely. After a few seconds, the light faded and Draco's arm appeared good as new. "It should be fine, Mr. Malfoy, but please do have Madame Pomfrey double-check my work. Sometimes hairline fractures remain that the basic Charm won't catch. You probably will also have some strained muscles for which she can provide pain relief." He touched Draco's knee and cast a different healing spell which seemed just as effective as the first.
"You have me at a disadvantage, Professor Lockhart," said Lucius Malfoy coolly. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced. Certainly not to the point of being on a first name basis."
Lockhart stood and bowed respectfully. "I do apologize for my impertinence, Lord Malfoy. Please forgive me. My thoughts were solely on your son, both his injuries and his remarkable performance. I'm sure you're both very proud."
Lucius looked down at Draco who had just risen to his feet, and the boy saw something in his father's eyes that he'd had never seen there before: pride and satisfaction. "Quite so," he said softly. "Draco, I knew you had natural skill at this game. But what I witnessed today was so much ... more than I was expecting and in so many ways. While I hope you do not make it a habit of risking your body so recklessly, I am indeed very proud of you."
"Thank you, Father. And thank you both for coming. I would like to spend time talking with you but..." He turned and focused all of his attention on Narcissa. "Harry Potter, my friend, is injured. With your kind permission, I would like to check on him. To make sure that he is unharmed and safe."
Narcissa smiled in a manner that approximated warmth. "Of course, Dragon. Go and check on your little friend."
He bowed respectfully to both parents and then made his way through the crowd to find Harry. As he left, Narcissa stared after him intently, while Lucius stared with equal intensity at her. If she felt the stress of his regard, her demeanor did not show it. As for Harry Potter, he was lying on the ground waiting for the stretcher. It seemed like the whole Slytherin House was grouped around Harry, but Snape, Flint, and (somewhat surprisingly) Ginny Weasley were the ones closest. As Draco drew near, he bumped into Ginny, and for just an instant, he felt an impulse to say something ... Malfoyesque. He pushed it down. For some reason, he wasn't in the mood for their usual sniping. The girl looked up at him and bit her lip.
"That was ... the most amazing thing I've ever seen in a Quidditch match," she said quietly.
"Thank you," he said with a sincerity that surprised even himself.
Harry moaned softly. "Hey ... Drake ... win?"
Draco knelt down. "Yes, Harry. We won. I caught the Snitch."
"Course ya did... Drake. Never doubted." And somehow, as absurd as it sounded, Draco thought that was true.
Then, Harry's brow furrowed. "Gin? Gin Weasel?"
She knelt down while Draco stood. He had the oddest impulse to give the two of them some privacy.
"I'm here, Harry."
"Tell Snape ... bout the smell."
She looked at him in confusion. "What smell, Harry?"
"Smell that ... Iris smelled." Then, he slipped into unconsciousness. By that time, Flint had returned with an enchanted stretcher. It would stabilize Harry medically and also render him nearly weightless so that it would be easier to transport him to the Infirmary. As they carried Harry away, Ginny's eyes narrowed and then widened in surprise as she realized what Harry meant.
"Professor Snape!" she called out before running up to the man. "Can you summon a house elf down here to the Quidditch pitch?"
"That is not necessary, Miss Weasley. The stretcher is enchanted and specifically designed to transport trauma patients. That is the safest mode of transportation for Mr. Potter."
"No sir, you don't understand." She moved closer and whispered. "Back in September, Harry and I learned that loyal house elves can smell the magic of rogue house elves."
Snape crooked an eyebrow and nodded. "When I can do so discreetly, I will summon a house elf to examine the cursed Bludgers. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss Weasley."
With that, the rest of the Slytherin students headed back to the school, their joy over winning tempered by concern over their injured Chaser. Most of the Gryffindor team members headed to the showers, dejected over their loss but also troubled at how close the game came to horrific tragedy. The spectators – students and otherwise – made their way out of the arena for whatever destinations awaited them.
Jim Potter stood alone in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. He could see his mum and dad headed over to speak with him. He wondered what they'd say. He wondered what had happened. He wondered how he could have possibly lost to Draco Malfoy. He wondered how he could watch his brother fall almost lifeless out of the sky without thinking for one second about giving up on the Snitch. He wondered what the hell was wrong with him.
Then, he jumped with a start at the sound of a loud SLUUURRRP! coming from behind him. It was Ron, finishing the last of his extra large pumpkin slushie while holding out a half-empty cardboard tub with his other hand.
"Want some popcorn?"
The next chapter will be posted on the morning of WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2015. This is a deviation from my normal schedule due to the holidays, as Christmas and New Years both fall on Friday this year, and I expect a combination of traveling and imbibing holiday cheer. The next chapter is entitled "Post-Game Developments," in which the Weasley Twins suffer a harsh payback, Harry has a few bedside visitors, Draco ponders his life choices, and Hermione and Neville take afternoon tea with Hagrid. Meanwhile, Jim suffers an unexpected personal disaster, while the Secret Enemy moves yet another piece onto the board. It is a very long chapter to tide everyone over until the New Year, as I don't expect to post the chapter after that until the first Friday in January, 2016.
AN 1: RE the "Rogue Bludger Rule." In the film, Hagrid basically says "Blimey, Harry's got himself a rogue Bludger!" with all the shock and surprise of me looking out the window and noticing a large feral cat eating out of my trashcans. In other words, something unusual and frightening that nobody likes but also something which isn't that uncommon and certainly isn't the end of the world. At no point did anyone in authority even suggest pausing the game while the teachers investigated the Bludger, so I take the position that a rogue Bludger was a phenomenon that was dangerous but not terribly unusual which Dobby was able to fake. The alternative is to assume that all of the wizards in attendance were slack-jawed dullards, and I'm trying to get away from that interpretation of the Potterverse. As for the other Bludger, well, by that point, things were happening too fast for anyone to intervene.
AN 2: I was completely flummoxed in the first movie when Harry decided to climb onto his broom and ride it like a surf board. I don't remember if he did that in the book, but just watching it, I thought it was completely bizarre. So I decided that it was absolutely as crazy as I thought it was AND ALSO a legitimate if risky Quidditch move. At least Draco didn't swallow the Snitch.