AN: So yeah. I don't have anything that interesting to say, 'cept I watch the Once Upon a Time Season 3 premiere last night and I loved it. Sorry I haven't managed to respond to very many reviews. I'll try and work on that. Anyway, thanks to all of the wonderful people who took time out to type something: CacTusLoVer27, Guest, Kairan1979, elmoryakhan, Ari989, Majerus, Tellur, Nixie the Bloody Pixie, Dee3, munirae, jcbat21, ultima-owner, Zaion Indulias, MariusDarkwolf, PuppyProngs, Guest, and MaeSilverpaws1.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.
At last, the big day that everyone had been waiting for arrived. The Slytherin team smirked happily as the Gryffindors trudged through rain and mud to get to the field.
"Now remember," Oliver said, shielding his eyes from the storm. "Don't get distracted. Just stay focused. This is gonna be a tough one."
"A tough one?" Fred repeated. "It's just Hufflepuff!"
"Just Hufflepuff? Just Hufflepuff? This is not something you can take lightly, Weasley!" Oliver growled, stopping to look him in the eye. "This is important. This is serious. For once, will you treat it that way?"
The others stared at him with surprise.
"Oliver," Katie suggested timidly. "Maybe you should calm down."
Oliver took a deep breath. Then another. And another. "I really don't think I can," He told them tightly. He wanted this day to be over with already. His heart was thudding heavily in his chest as he marched to the field. This match would be the death of him.
Harry was practically quivering in his boots. Wood was counting on him to win this game. It was important to him, and it was important to the rest of the team. It was important to Harry himself too. Flying was a feeling that couldn't be compared to anything else in the world, except possibly that little jolt he received every time he was reminded of what his friends did for him. Catching that snitch would be…it would be amazing.
Oliver was unable to bring himself to give a pep talk. He didn't have any pep left in his spirit. The Gryffindors would either win or lose, and nothing he said at this point would change the outcome.
The dark, ominous clouds above them rumbled and roared with the threat of a storm. Wind pushed back against the team as they struggled to reach the center of the field. Harry shielded his eyes and attempted to see anyone besides the Hufflepuff team in their shockingly bright yellow robes.
Diggory and Oliver shook hands, scowling. Madam Hooch seemed eager to start the game, and rushed them back to their respective teams before blowing her whistle.
Harry rose into the air unsteadily, squinting. His fingers were stiff with cold, and the protective gear he wore didn't seem to be helping much. He was soaked to the bone within a matter of minutes. Even worse was the state of his glasses; a steady stream of rain was pouring down on them, making it impossible to identify objects. The wind pushed back harder.
His loss of sight caused him to nearly hit someone, forcing them to swerve around. Bludgers whizzed past him, but he wasn't sure whether the Beaters were aiming for him or just whacking their bats around at random. The sky continued to darken, until it was nearly black. A brief flash of lightning illuminated the field for less than a second, but Harry's vision was still blurry.
Madam Hooch whistled loudly for a timeout. The team touched down into the mud, sending brown specks splattering everywhere. Under an umbrella near the edge stood a gaggle of Gryffindors, urgently ushering them over.
"What's the score?" Harry asked, wiping his glasses on his drenched robes.
"Right now, we're fifty points up," Oliver informed him grimly, looking as though he had hoped for better. "It won't really matter though, unless you catch the Snitch. We need to end this game soon."
Harry furrowed his brow. "I can't really see with my glasses on."
Percy spoke up quickly. "Hand them over. I used to have this problem all the time, it was so aggravating—Impervius!"
"What is that supposed to do?" Angelina asked curiously.
Hermione gasped in realization. "Oh! It repels water, of course!"
"Right, well, now that we've got that sorted out," Oliver continued impatiently, "let's get back to the game!"
The team was still freezing cold, and wetter than if they'd just jumped in the Black Lake, but it wasn't nearly as bad now that they had renewed hope. Harry pushed his Nimbus Two Thousand to the limit, swerving around everything in his path. He spotted Diggory shooting off in an opposite direction.
More lightning lit up the field, and Harry glanced around as quickly as possible. He needed to find the Snitch. There was no telling what would happen if they stayed out for much longer. He turned again, trying to find a good vantage point to seek from, when another bit of lightning hit.
What was that? It looked almost like a dog. That wasn't right; what would a dog be doing at Hogwarts? But it had to be a dog. It was huge, with shaggy black fur, all the way up in the top row of the seats. What was it doing there?
Taken by surprise, Harry jumped suddenly, causing his Nimbus to drop slightly. He blinked—and the dog was gone! That was impossible…wasn't it?
"Harry!" Oliver shouted from the other side of the field. "Harry! Look behind you!"
Harry spun around wildly. There was Cedric Diggory, a victorious little smirk on his face as he flew up the field, a tiny little shimmer of gold darting in front of him, heading straight for Harry.
No, Harry thought, panicked. No, it couldn't end like this. He pushed his broom further and took off. His heart began to thud loudly in his ears; he could hear it pounding, giving him a strange exhilarating rush. It was as though all of the noise of the stadium fell away and no one was shouting or screaming—perhaps because, Harry realized with a jolt, no one was.
The wind rushed past his ears, but it wasn't the strong gust of air that caused a sudden chill to rise up in him. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, right below him. He checked it out, looking down….
Directly into a sea of dementors. There were at least a hundred of them, all staring right up at him. Why were they watching him? What was going on? Why were they there? He felt a sharp pain hit his chest before a shrill sound rang out—not Madam Hooch's whistle, but something human…a woman….
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…"
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"
What? There was a woman, and she was dying. She was about to be murdered! What was he doing still flying in the match? In fact, why wasn't anyone else trying to help her? He had to help her! Hardly aware of what he was doing, Harry let go.
He had to help her.
"Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…"
Someone was laughing, and the woman was still screaming.
He had to help her.
"Oh Merlin, is he alright?"
"I thought he was a goner for sure."
"I've never seen someone fall from so far."
"He didn't even break his glasses!"
Seamus' leg bounced impatiently. "Will someone just tell us what's going on?" He shouted finally.
"Mr. Finnegan, lower your voice or I will remove you from this Hospital Wing!" Madam Pomfrey admonished him, bustling around the bed.
"Oh come on!" He protested immediately. "Harry falls from practically fifty feet up, almost smack into an army of dementors, an' then starts mumbling on about how someone was screaming and he has to help her. He's our friend! Why won't you tell us what's going on?"
"Mr. Finnegan! If Mr. Potter is going to recover, he needs peace and quiet. This is your last warning before I forcibly eject you from what is supposed a room of healing and serenity!" Madam Pomfrey waggled her finger as her face began to turn pink.
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, I'm sure Seamus will start to calm down." Professor Burbage had arrived, and she brought her typical calming manner with her. "They're all just very worried about their friend right now, you see, I'm sure you understand."
Madam Pomfrey huffed. "Yes, well, I think they could all be a little less noisy in their worry." She shot them all a beady-eyed stare before gliding back to her office.
"Don't worry, everyone, Harry is going to be just fine." Burbage paused to let her words settle in. "Isn't that right Harry?"
The kids quickly whipped around to look at their friend, who had cracked one eye open and was grinning sheepishly. "Hi, guys."
"Harry!" They all exclaimed.
"How are you feeling?" Katie inquired timidly.
Harry sat up suddenly, looking ready to move at any moment. "Is she okay?"
"Who?" Lee asked, glancing around.
"That woman. The one who was screaming." Harry moved to swing his legs over the side of the bed, only to have Oliver push him back.
"No one was screaming, Harry." Dean watched him carefully.
Harry visibly shuddered. "No, no, someone was screaming, I heard her, she almost died—"He stopped when he took in the fearful expressions on their faces. "—maybe I was just hearing things. Because of the wind, you know."
It wasn't true, but they were all too willing to take it as such.
"So when are we doing a replay?" Harry asked, changing the subject.
Oliver shifted before turning away.
"We didn't—lose?"
"Diggory got the snitch," George mumbled. "He did it right after you fell. And then when he saw you on the ground, he offered a rematch. But the 'puffs won, fair and square. Even Oliver says so."
Oliver remained still as a statue.
"I'm sorry," Harry croaked out. "I didn't know that—"
"It's not your fault, Harry!" Oliver jumped up from the bed. "None of this was your fault, or anyone's fault except mine. I was pushing you guys way too hard. I should've rescheduled the match, Diggory probably would've gone for it, and so would Hooch—"
Harry didn't appear to be listening. He was leaned forward, clutching his hair.
"Harry?" Parvati prodded him gently.
"I lost. We lost. I made us lose the match."
"What? No, of course you didn't!" Lee protested. "There's still a chance. We only lost by a hundred points today, it's all about the points, see—"
"Yeah," Fred chimed in. "If Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin—"
"Hufflepuff would have to lost by at least two hundred points," Oliver pointed out.
"If they beat Ravenclaw, then—" George started.
"Ravenclaw is too good to have Hufflepuff beat them!" Lee disagreed. "But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff…"
"So does this mean you're all talking again?" Burbage asked hopefully.
As though they had only just realized what they were doing, Oliver and Lee fell silent.
"Or not," Burbage murmured under her breath.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter if you lost one match, Harry. You're probably the best Seeker Gryffindor's had since…well, since forever," Ron declared, trying to cheer him up.
Harry frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Whatever happened to my Nimbus?"
This only served to dampen the mood in the room even further.
"Er—" Seamus stalled.
"Well," Cormac hesitated. "When you fell off, the wind was still blowing really hard, and the broom may have um, blown away."
Harry waited. "And?"
"And, um, it sort of hit the—it hit the Whomping Willow," Neville whispered.
Harry felt even worse now. "And?" He repeated.
"I have the pieces right here, Harry. Professor Flitwick dropped them off." Burbage carefully placed a small bag on Harry's bed, leaving him to paw through the splintered remains of Harry's faithful old friend.
"It was a good broom," Oliver mentioned heavily, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"It was," Harry agreed.
There was a tense silence as Harry began to empty out the bag, piece by piece, until at last his whole broom lay before him. The strong, fast Nimbus Two Thousand had served Harry well.
Burbage rose again, exhaling loudly. "Well, I suppose I'd better get going now. I've got some papers to grade. Try to get some rest, Harry." With a parting smile, she left, her shoes clicking on the cold, hard Hospital Wing tile. Just as she reached the heavy wooden doors, a thought struck her.
"Madam Pomfrey," She called out. "Is Remus in here? He told me he was sick, and I just wanted to check up on him."
Pomfrey blinked twice. "Why, no, he isn't. He preferred to spend his time in his quarters rather than here. Naturally, I tried to dissuade him from doing so, but he can be quite stubborn when he wants to be."
Burbage nodded. There was nothing that unusual about such a thing. Remus was a very private person, and maybe he had some sort of aversion to hospitals. That happened to some people, didn't it? But something about it just made her pause and consider it a bit more than she would have normally. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I suppose I'll just be on my way, then."
Severus Snape was resting in his chambers, both hoping for and dreading the knock that came on his door. He didn't really like to argue with Minerva, but at the same time, he just wanted to yell at someone about something. She really made it too easy sometimes.
But Minerva was not at the door. Instead, it was her little lackey who seemed to always act on her orders. Charity Burbage was one of the most irritating women he had ever met. From her sunny disposition to her fierce conviction, she was stubborn, cheerful, and ignorant, one of the worst combinations possible. She could not be convinced that her little Gryffindors weren't the saints she thought they were, no matter how many times they seemed to prove it to her.
"I need to speak with you," She began haltingly.
His lips twisted into a sneer. "By all means." He opened his arms mockingly and allowed her to walk into his sitting room. She took a few steps forward, before whirling back around and changing her mind.
"No. I think we should talk about this on the main floor." She spoke rigidly, with her eyes firmly focused on him.
Severus raised an eyebrow. Should he add insanity to that wonderful list of character traits? "Do you have a problem with my chambers?"
"No. I just don't think this is the right place to have this type of conversation," She said simply, brushing past him.
Severus rolled his eyes behind her back and followed her up a flight of stairs into a tucked away alcove. "What is it that we need to discuss?"
She seemed to be gathering her courage, slowly tilting her chin up and pushing her shoulders back. "We need to discuss," She said slowly. "We need to discuss your behavior towards some of the students."
He gave a long-suffering sigh. "Shall I assume that we're speaking about the Gryffindors?" Without waiting for an answer, he ploughed on. "I know you likely don't understand, Burbage, but my methods are useful for teaching Potions. I force students to use their heads and think about what they're doing, rather than mindlessly throwing in ingredients in a cauldron. Perhaps in a class such as Muggle Studies this type of tactic is not needed, but I would not know, as I do not question your teaching methods."
She pursed her lips. "I'm not talking about Potions class."
He was momentarily surprised, but he was careful to keep his face blank. "I see. Minerva has sent you to deliver some sort of warning to me about leaving her precious teacher's pet alone." He could see anger burning in her eyes.
"Firstly, don't call Hermione that. Secondly, Minerva doesn't know about this, and she won't as long as you apologize." Her hands curled into fists.
Again, he was stunned. So Granger hadn't gone running to the Headmistress after all. Perhaps he had underestimated how the Gryffindors felt about their new Head of House. "Are you trying to blackmail me, Burbage? I wouldn't have expected it of you." Not allowing her a chance to respond, he continued. "I did what I had to do in a class that was woefully behind. If you would like to criticize anyone's teaching, you should be pointing your finger at Lupin."
She drew herself up as though about to slap him. "Remus hasn't done anything wrong."
"Hasn't he?" Severus smirked. "I would look into his past, if I were you. Then again, you are the type to blindly put your faith behind someone who doesn't deserve it."
A satisfied smile unfurled on her lips. "I already know about his old friendship with Sirius Black!" She crowed.
"Is that all?" Severus retorted, bored. "I would've thought he'd reveal more about himself, considering how close the two of you have become."
Burbage glanced down. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He snorted. "Of course not. He probably wants to keep you in the dark for as long as possible. For a Gryffindor, Lupin is such a coward. Unfortunately for him, you actually have a modicum of intelligence, unlike those other hooligans he fooled around with. It's only a matter of time until you figure it out."
"Figure what out?" She was practically vibrating with excitement. Severus wondered for a moment if he should actually tell her. It would be amusing, but would it serve any real purpose?
"Charity?" A hoarse voice called out. "What are you doing?"
She gasped. "Remus! Oh, no, Remus you look horrible!"
He grimaced. "Thank you very much," He said dryly.
"What are you doing out of bed? Oh my goodness, you need to lie down." She rushed towards him, taking him gently by the arm and steering him in the direction of his quarters.
Severus smirked again. The wolf looked exhausted, with heavy bags under his eyes. There were no bruises or scratch marks, as there had been when they were still in school. The Wolfsbane potion took care of that.
"Hello, Severus," Lupin greeted him with a nod.
He pushed down his anger to return the cool greeting. "Lupin. You look rough," He commented.
Lupin's eyes tightened. "I've been feeling very under the weather lately."
"Well, I'm sure you'll be feeling better soon." Severus gave a small nod before sweeping away.
"Snape! I expect her to receive that apology, or Minerva will be hearing about that!" Burbage called after him.
Severus scowled. Was there ever a time when he could an argument without any sort of compromise?