Chapter 10 – Slash and Flick.

Autumn had certainly arrived at Hogwarts. Each morning the grounds were covered in frost, the kind that makes a satisfying crunching sound when walked on. Elizabeth had, more than once, looked out the Gryffindor common room window to see Hagrid, bundled up in his enormous moleskin overcoat, rabbit-fur gloves and beaver skin boots, defrosting broomsticks.

The weather wasn't the only thing November had brought with it. Quidditch season had begun. That Saturday was the first match, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, Harry's first match.

Elizabeth was excited for him, really she was. However, the blizzard of emotions stirring up inside her had caused her to make a difficult decision, she wasn't going. She knew George would be angry at her when he realized her plan, but she was sure he would understand. Besides, she had seen the twins play so many times they wouldn't mind if she missed this one, of course they wouldn't. A mantra she had repeated to herself so many times, since she had decided, she was now no longer entirely sure who she was trying to convince.

Harry being made Gryffindor seeker was a complete secret so, naturally, everyone knew about it. Apparently, McGonagall had told the Fat Lady in passing, who had run straight to the portrait of her friend Vi, to spread the jubilant news. Slowly the news got around to Sir Cadogan, a stout, demented old knight, who hung in the Gryffindor Common Room and before you knew it Nearly Headless Nick was telling anyone and everyone who would listen, "Did you hear? Harry Potter is the new Gryffindor seeker. I always knew that boy would do well." And the rest as they say is history.

It seemed everyone had something to say about this tidbit of news. Everything from "way to go, Potter," to "Need us standing below to catch you, MR Potter," could be heard through the corridors of Hogwarts. The only person who had little to say on the subject, it seemed, was Draco Malfoy. You could almost see the jealousy exuding from him. That was until the day he turned the corner, saw Harry and made some, quite frankly, pathetic comment about his glasses and whether he's even be able to see the snitch. This ultimately ending in Harry glaring, as usual. Draco sneering, as usual and the floating head of Professor Flitwick once again appearing over Draco's shoulder a second before spells flew.

In that precise moment, all Elizabeth could think was that the man had impeccable timing. It just so happened that, this time, the professor stood on a stool attempting to charm down a banner which had been bewitched to hover over the great hall doors, emblazoned with the words 'WE GOT POTTER!' Not only that, it seemed enchanted in such a way that it applauded any Gryffindor who walked below it. All the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws received a pleasant 'good evening' or 'hello' from the banner, but the Slytherins weren't as lucky. As Draco swaggered away into the great hall a vulgar farting sound omitted from the banner, followed by a tumultuous chorus of boos.

Elizabeth knew exactly whose handiwork this was, and was more than a little miffed she had not been a part of the joke, but she couldn't help but laugh noticing that even Professor Flitwick couldn't hold in a chuckle at the banner's antics.

Quidditch was one thing, but the first year workload was suddenly beginning to pile. Elizabeth was glad that the boys were now friends with Hermione, if it wasn't for her conducting her nightly study sessions with them, she had no doubt they wouldn't even get through the first term. It was so bad that Elizabeth had come to feel sorry for Hermione, stuck with those two dunderheads all the time, and so had decided to take the boys potions and Herbology study sessions herself.

These sessions however had brought her closer to Harry. She had spent an entire session once talking with him about Quidditch. About the 700 ways to commit a foul, and about how all off these had happened in one game between Flanders and Transylvania in 1473. Harry had become so interested that Elizabeth had lent him her copy of Quidditch through the Ages, which he promptly brought back the next day in six pieces. She knew she had been meaning to replace it for some reason. She quickly grabbed him a spare copy from the library and all was forgiven.

Hermione had certainly relaxed, in concerns to rule breaking, since the endlessly recounted Troll incident. Friday afternoon found them sat by the lake, huddled around a flame Hermione had conjured them for warmth. It was a beautiful thing, a soft, calming blue flame. It was so small and simple yet gave of just as much heat as any roaring fire and best of all was able to be carried around in a small Jam jar. Elizabeth had made a mental note to have Hermione teach her that one at some point.

Though for all its beauty, all four had the impression that should a teacher see them with it, they certainly wouldn't be gaining any house points. Which is why, as they saw Snape limping across the grounds, they all huddled closer, backs to the flame, blocking it from view.

Wait a minute, limping? There was no denying what her eyes where telling her, Snape was definitely limping. The more she thought about it this was the first time she had seen Snape walking since the aforementioned Troll incident. In class he had not been his usual bat-like self, swooping down on them to spout what was, in the most, and endless litany of insults and put-downs; even when she had seen him in the library this morning he had been seated behind the desk discussing an issue with the school librarian, Madam Pince. She hoped he hadn't been injured too badly. She wouldn't wish a Troll mauling on anyone. Even though Snape was currently limping towards them as if looking for a reason to punish them, or at least Harry, if there was one or not.

"What you got there, Mr Potter?"

It was Quidditch through the Ages. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me."

Elizabeth waited for him to turn to her next, but he didn't. In fact, it seemed he was determined not to acknowledge her presence at all costs.

"Five points from Gryffindor," he said, then limped away.

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope, it's really hurting him," Ron said bitterly. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her brother, but she had to admit she was beginning to understand his frustration. Snape was a riddle, wrapped up in an enigma, trapped in a tightly fastened, fine silk cloak. Every time she thought she might be figuring him out he would do something to confuse her even more. Something much like taking a library book from Harry, but leaving her to sit there reading a copy of The Practical Potioneer that he had seen her procure from the library that very same morning.

That night the Common Room was filled with excitement. Excitement that Elizabeth was trying desperately to drown out; her lack of joy concerning the next day's festivities going unnoticed by her fellow housemates.

Herself, Harry, Ron and Hermione were huddled by the window, the girls checking the boy's charms homework. Hermione had thrown a fit a few times when Elizabeth had pretended to let the boys cheat off her, ("How will they learn?") only to ultimately be met with uproarious laughter as she fell into their well laid trap. Elizabeth agreed with Hermione, she would never let the boys cheat but, by having them read over their work, she could rest in the knowledge that they would at least past their first year.

Having finished checking Harry's essay, Elizabeth was now watching Hermione berate Ron for having forgotten that Wingardium Leviosa was swish and flick, not slash and flick.

"Honestly Ronald, you can use it against a twelve foot mountain troll but writing it on paper is too illusive for you?"

Elizabeth couldn't help but notice that Harry seemed restless. She assumed it was just nerves for the next day's game, so she let him be. She knew it was selfish, but she was trying to pretend the game wasn't even taking place, the last thing she felt like doing was convincing Harry he was going to be amazing.

As luck would have it however, it seemed Harry had decided on another way to occupy his fear addled brain. Getting up he told them he was going to ask Snape for his book back.

"Rather you than me," Ron and Hermione said in unison, causing Elizabeth to smirk. Although she had to agree they had a point. It seemed Harry had come to the conclusion that, at this time, Snape would most likely be in the staff room and was more likely to give him his book back when other teachers were around. Elizabeth had to agree with his deductions as to Snape's location, but the second part of his plan Elizabeth had to admit, had more than a few flaws. Maybe she could help.

"Wait, Harry, I'm going with you. There's only so much of these two bickering a girl can take." Elizabeth said gesturing at Ron and Hermione, who were now arguing as to whether it was more important that Ron had saved her life from a mountain troll or got an A on a class paper.

The last thing Harry and Elizabeth heard as they exited the common room was a "Hey!" from the arguing couple in question and then they were plunged into the silence of the seventh floor corridor. The chatter and laughter of their housemates a mere echo from behind the portrait hole.

The walk to the Hogwarts staff room was a whole seven floors down and Elizabeth knew that, should their current awkward silence continue, she might be asking Snape to commit her to an insane asylum by the time she got there, rather than just simply asking for a book back.

She amused herself for a moment with what's Snape's reaction might be if she were to make such a request and after a quick chuckle to herself, decided to break the proverbial ice.

"You OK?" She asked, unsure if she truly wanted the answer.

"Fine," he replied, with what was clearly a fake grin and a slight shrug of his shoulders. Annoyingly, this frustrated her even more and she realised she was going to have to have the conversation she had been avoiding, no matter how much she didn't want to.

She stopped in the middle of the corridor, causing Harry to almost walk straight into her.

"What…?"

"Look, Harry," she interrupted. "You don't need to be your twin to see how nervous you are, but unfortunately for you, I am. So spill!"

Harry looked at her for a moment and then began walking again, motioning for her to follow.

"It's just…"he paused.

Elizabeth pulled out her wand and pointed it at him.

"If you don't talk in a minute Mr. Potter, I'm gonna make you."

"Alright, alright," Harry chuckled. They both knew that with a wand there was very little she could do. Had she threatened to spike his even pumpkin juice with some kind of can't-stop-talking-potion however he would have had much more pause for thought.

"I'm going to make a complete fool out of myself, I know. Everyone keeps saying it. I've only rode a broom like ten times! I didn't even know magic was anything more than something in a storybook till a couple of months ago! It's gonna be a disaster, I just know it." He stopped and took a deep breath. Elizabeth could see, just from the tension that had drained from his shoulders that he had been dying to get all this out, probably, from the moment he'd been put on the team.

She immediately had the urge to yell at him for being a complete and undeniable idiot, but decided that he probably wouldn't take kindly to that; or understand why. She ultimately decided to take the gentler route…well as gentle as a Weasley triplet could take anyway.

"Let's analyse that statement for a moment shall we?" She stated matter-of-factly. "First, you only became aware that magic existed months ago; look at Hermione, so did she and she's pretty much the brightest witch of our age."

Harry went too interrupted, but Elizabeth gave him a look that clearly stated she wasn't done yet and he shut up with a slight grin. A slight grin that, even to Elizabeth, clearly said, 'oh, so this is what it's like to have a sister.'

"Secondly," She continued. "You have only rode a broom about ten times. At least eight of which have been in front of the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team and they can't stop raving about you." She could see that she was slowly getting through, but she wasn't quite there. "As for people saying you are gonna be useless; well, the Slytherins are just trying to psych you out so they can win and everyone else is just jealous." She was almost there, time to crack out her crowning glory. "And if you need any more convincing all I can tell you is you won't make a fool of yourself, Quidditch is in your blood."

Harry gave her a confused look. She was grateful no-one else had told him yet or her final argument would not have packed anywhere near the punch she wanted it to. It was about time this boy learned where he had come from.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Our father was a chaser, Harry. One of the best Gryffindor ever had, if McGonagall is to be believed. So go out there and make him proud, you have it in you. I know you do." It was only after saying it she realised just how sisterly she sounded, but what scared her most was how right she felt saying it. It wasn't a lie to make him feel better, she knew he would make her father proud and most likely her too. Still didn't mean she was going to go though and suddenly she had never wanted this journey to end more.

She didn't have too long to linger on that thought though as before she could take another step, two arms had engulfed her in an embrace which was trying to rival Hagrid's. However awkward she felt she couldn't help but hug him back. She knew they would never be as close as her and the Weasley's, but the whispered 'thanks, sis,' in her ear was enough to make her realise they were making progress.

Harry released her and she was amazed to see that they were standing right outside the staff room door. Elizabeth found herself wondering if Hogwarts had sensed she wanted her current conversation to be over as soon as possible and had made some of the hallways shorter as a helping hand. She sent a silent thank you to the castle, raised her small fist and knocked three times on the oak door.

A slight commotion could be heard from within and a moment later the bulging eyes of the school caretaker, Argus Filch, could be seen staring down at her as the door opened.

"Evening sir," she began, in the sweetest, most innocent voice she could muster. "We were just wondering whether or not Professor Snape might be here?"

"Come in," Snape's subtle tones drifted out to them as Filch stepped aside to allow them entry.

The staff room was a long, panelled room with mismatched, dark wooden chairs; upon one of which Professor Snape was seated behind a large mahogany desk.

"Hello, Sir." Elizabeth began.

"To what do I owe this visit, Miss Potter?"

"Well, sir," she began, preparing to deliver the perfect speech for the situation, that she had created on the walk down. She would always thank Fred and George for her uncanny ability to be able to fully focus on two things at once, she would have got in a lot more trouble over the years if it wasn't for this talent.

"I brought my brother to apologise, Sir." Snape's eyebrows raised, everything was going to plan. "You see, it was me that lent the book from the library and gave it to Harry to borrow. I was unaware of the rule, Sir, and I promise it won't happen again. I was just wondering would it be at all possible to get the book back? I will personally see to it that it doesn't leave the castle again, Sir." Now all she could do was wait, and thank her lucky stars that she was highly adept in sucking up. The slight smirk that was appearing on Snape's face however made her panic, not many people could see through her; not even Mrs Weasley at times. Had Snape really cracked her?

Luckily for her his next words assuaged those fears.

"I seem to recall you saying, Miss Potter, that you brought your brother to apologise. From where I am sitting her seems to be doing very little of anything."

Harry seemed about to say something, highly not suited to the situation, but Elizabeth gave him a look. One that clearly said, 'apologise now or I will make you …and I won't need a potion…or a wand for that matter.'

"Sorry, Sir, it won't happen again. Please could I have my book back?" Harry mumbled begrudgingly.

Snape seemed to smirk for a moment and then stood to retrieve the book from a cabinet, labelled 'Confiscated Items', behind him.

As Snape turned away from them, to get the book, Harry gave an almost inaudible gasp and it wasn't long before Elizabeth noticed why.

As he had moved Snape's robes had swung to reveal a bloody gash down the side of his leg. A gash that certainly wasn't caused by any Troll.

Elizabeth schooled her face into a neutral expression as Snape turned back to her, handing her the book.

"Thank you, Sir," she said, turning towards the door to find Harry had already gone.

She was about to shut the door behind her when, "Miss Potter?"

She turned back to face Snape.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Make sure he doesn't do it again. Do you understand?" No. She wasn't entirely sure she did. Was he suggesting he was instilling this rule solely to get at Harry? No, he couldn't be. Although, it would have explained why he had left her with her book and taken Harry's earlier that day. Either way Snape was waiting for an answer, so she replied as simply as she could.

"Yes, Sir, I think I do." And with that she left shutting the door behind her and heading towards Harry, who she could see pacing at the opposite end of the hallway.

"You keep wearing a whole in the floor like that and you'll end up being introduced to the Slytherin Common Room." She said giving him back his book.

He took it from her, mind clearly racing with a million different theories; each one she imagined more ridiculous then the next.

"Don't you see what this means?" Harry asked.

Elizabeth had to admit, something strange was definitely going on. However, she also had the strangest feelings that the conspiracy theories Harry was undoubtedly about to regale her with, all the way back to the Gryffindor common room, had one hundred percent, undeniably, unequivocally nothing to do with it.