Chapter 12

Quidditch

The great hall was immensely inviting with its aroma of fried sausages and the gentle hum of chatter that was the excitement for the day's game. Elizabeth said a quick good morning to a few people as she passed; including the twins' friend Cedric Diggory, who seemed to be in the middle of making a bet towards Gryffindor's success.

She did not, however, miss the sly smirk and subtle wink she was thrown by Draco Malfoy as she entered the Great Hall, now wearing much more appropriate footwear.

She was just reaching an empty seat, across from Harry when the ever inquisitive voice of Seamus Finnigan assailed her ears.

"Aren't Seekers usually the ones who get nobbled by the other team?" he asked through a mouthful of Sausage.

"Smooth, Seamus. Really smooth," she said, plopping into the empty seat next to Neville as the others laughed. The others minus Harry that was, who was sitting across from her looking greener than a freshly pickled toad.

A ruckus from down the table caught her attention and Elizabeth turned to see Fred and George heading towards them.

"Harry, old chap, hope you're gonna eat more than that, gonna need your strength today. Oh, and Izzy, you missed a post. Barney left you this."

Fred handed her a small red envelope as both boys squeezed their way past Seamus and Neville to sit either side of her.

As the table turned back to talk about the game, and Hermione finally convinced Harry to nibble at a piece of toast, George elbowed her in the ribs.

"Thought you weren't coming?" he whispered.

"And miss my little bro's first match? What would give you that ridiculous idea?" She hoped her statement had said everything she couldn't voice and if the giant grin that was making its way onto George's face was anything to go by, it had. The grin he now fixed upon her destroyed any doubts she still had, she was doing the right thing.

Their moment was broken, however, by none other than Harry himself.

"Little Brother?" he had clearly just processed the snippet of their conversation he had overheard.

A sly grin spread over her face as she replied.

"Older by six minutes little guy, and don't you forget it."

"Could this day get any worse?" Harry replied, dropping the still almost whole piece of toast and resting his head on his palms, as the others did nothing but laugh at their friends 'misfortune'.

"Well," said George next to her, "It just did for me and Fred."

Elizabeth had just opened the letter Barney had left her that morning and George had been reading over her shoulder.

"How so, Georgie?" replied Fred, his confusion evident on his face.

"Izzy's letter was from Mum, thanking her for the birthday present."

"WHAT!" replied Fred and Ron in unison, Ron's fork clattering to the floor as they both jumped out of their seats.

Elizabeth noticed McGonagall's head perk at the teacher's table, but after realizing that this was just a family issue that didn't need her attention, she went back to her bacon.

"When was that?!" Ron panicked.

"The day before Halloween, as it is every year Ronald." This earned a snort from Hermione, but her brothers weren't listening as they were too busy panicking about their current predicament.

"What did you get her?" George asked, still looking at the note he had snatched from Elizabeth's hands.

"Made her a scarf didn't I," She had really wanted to make them suffer for forgetting a Molly's birthday, but today was Quidditch and they needed their heads in the game… literally.

"Don't worry, I said it was from all of us. You too, Harry."

"Thanks," said Harry, eyes wide, seemingly surprised that she had thought of him.

An arm was thrown over her shoulder from either side as the twins smiled at her appreciatively and Ron retook his seat with a relieved sigh.

"What would we do without you, sis?" George asked.

"Crash and burn, dear brother mine, crash and burn."

By 11 o'clock the whole school seemed to be in the stands surrounding the Quidditch pitch. Many students had brought binoculars and Elizabeth was cursing herself for not being better prepared. The seats may have been high up, but Quidditch was such a fast paced game, it was still, at times, difficult to see what was going on.

Ron, Hermione and Elizabeth had found seats at the front of the Gryffindor stands along with Neville, Seamus and, the West Ham supporter, Dean Thomas.

Elizabeth had discovered on their way to the stands that the other first years of her house had gotten together and made a banner, out of one of the bedsheets Scabbers had destroyed. It emblazoned the words 'POTTER FOR PRESIDENT' and Dean, who Elizabeth discovered was impressively good at drawing, had drawn underneath the words a majestic lion.

Elizabeth had felt left out, albeit through no-one's fault but her own, and therefore decided to quickly help Hermione add a tricky little charm, George had taught her, that would allow the letters to flash all different colours.

"So, why weren't you going to come, Elizabeth?" clearly Seamus had been listening in to her and George's conversation.

"Just being an idiot really, Seamus," she answered, a slight grin on her face.

"What made you change your mind?" Hermione asked; making Elizabeth wonder whether or not Seamus was contagious.

She thought about her answer carefully for a moment, and came back with the safest thing that popped into her head.

"Some fluffy Ducks." She replied, throwing a subtle glance at Malfoy as she did. He was currently sat at the front of the Slytherin stands to their left, looking endlessly bored, as Crabbe and Goyle stood either side of him seemingly arguing about something. Elizabeth amused herself for a moment at the idea of them arguing over who had the least IQ points.

Her glance did not go unnoticed by the other female in their number; but seemingly had by the others as Ron replied eloquently.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're officially insane!" Earning a chorus of laughter from those around him.

Suddenly, the noise of the crowd increased and the little group stopped to watch and cheer as the players made their way onto the field.

Even from this distance Elizabeth could see Harry visibly relax upon spotting their banner, fluttering high above him, and immediately she was immensely glad she had come.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the pitch, waiting for the two teams, broom in hand.

"Now, I want a nice clean game, from all of you." Elizabeth snorted. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, like that was going to happen. She had just resigned herself to crossing her fingers and hoping no-one got hurt too badly. From the glare madam Hooch was clearly giving the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, she wasn't holding out much hope either.

"Mount your brooms, please." Elizabeth watched as Harry climbed onto his Nimbus Two Thousand; even from as far away as she was, Elizabeth couldn't help but think that it was definitely the best looking broom on the field. For a moment her jealousy arose again, but it was replaced almost immediately, by something else, by something she would almost go as far as calling pride.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her Silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up into the air and they were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, what an excellent Chaser she is- and rather attractive too,"

"Jordan!"

Elizabeth couldn't hold back a laugh. Lee Jordan was commentating and if McGonagall didn't have his head, for that comment, she knew Fred would. He had been crushing on Angelina since his first year and didn't think anyone knew. Honestly, how stupid did he think she was?

"Sorry, Professor. And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's," Elizabeth couldn't help but agree. Alicia was fast.

"Back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle. Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes- Flint flying like an Eagle up there- he's going to sco- no, stopped by an excellent move by the Gryffindor Keeper, Wood."

Elizabeth was buzzing with excitement and she wasn't the only one. The atmosphere was incredible. As her gaze passed the Slytherin stands, she could see that Malfoy looked anything but bored now.

"That's Chaser Katie Bell with the Quaffle, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and- OUCH! That must've hurt- hit in the back of the head with a Bludger."

Elizabeth cringed. Bludgers were the homicidal maniac balls as Hermione had termed them, and Elizabeth would be the first one to agree with the accuracy of that statement. It was Katie's first game to and Elizabeth hoped she wasn't hurt too badly, the last thing Gryffindor needed was to lose a chaser, this early in the season, because they were too frightened to play anymore.

"Quaffle taken by Slytherin- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger- sent his way buy Fred… or George Weasley, never can tell which."

Elizabeth giggled, over the years she had become so attuned to the twins' presence that she didn't even have to look, these days, to know who was who. However, even when they were younger the troublesome twosome couldn't pull the wool over her eyes. She had noticed, early on, that the was a small mole on George's neck that his, almost, mirror image didn't possess; after that they were always stumped and amazed at how she did it, she would just laugh.

Elizabeth knew that Molly was aware of this distinguishing feature, but for some reason she always let them get away with it. Whenever Elizabeth used to bring it up with her, she would simply smile contently and say, "You'll understand one day, dear."

"Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes- She's really flying- dodges a speeding Bludger- the goalposts are ahead- come on, now Angelina! Keeper Bletchley dives- misses- GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

The Gryffindor stands erupted. Elizabeth may have been worried about the effect the noise may be having on her hearing if it wasn't for the fact that she too was screaming a loudly as everyone else. She took a moment to take it all in and could see it wasn't just the Gryffindor's happy with the way this game was progressing. She could just make out Cedric Diggory in the stands to their right, one step closer to winning his best, shouting just as loudly as she was.

The Slytherins, however, did not look happy. Howling and moaning at their current predicament. Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at seeing Malfoy slap Goyle upside the head. She had no idea what had been said, or was going on, but didn't really care as she knew the image would amuse her all day anyway.

"Budge up there, move along." She was dragged out of her thoughts as Hagrid was now squeezing his way between Ron and Hermione, to seat himself next to her.

"Hagrid! What are you doing up here?" She questioned, breathlessly, still not having recovered her composure from their previous celebrations.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," he replied, patting a large pair of binoculars hanging around his neck.

"But it ain't the same as bein' in the crowd. No signs o' the Snitch yet?"

"Nope," Ron replied.

"Harry hasn't had much to do yet, it's been nice. Let's him settle in properly." Elizabeth added, knowing Harry's moment would come soon enough.

"He's kept outta trouble though, that's somethin'" said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering upwards. For a moment Elizabeth wondered if Hagrid was still talking about Quidditch, but chose to ignore it as she followed the giant's gaze up towards the tiny dot that was Harry. In that moment, he was circling high above the action, looking for that speck of gold, which signalled the Snitch and the end of the game.

More than once, Elizabeth had thought she had seen the Snitch, to have it only be one of the Weasley twins' wrist watches. She'd have to bash their heads together for that one later.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying.

"Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment- was that the Snitch?"

The Snitch was a tiny, golden, winged ball which, when caught by a Seeker, signalled the end of the game and won said Seeker's team one hundred and fifty points. It was usually a fair shout that whichever teams' Seeker caught the Snitch would win. The catch? The snitch was the size of a walnut, impossibly fast and damned near impossible to see.

A gasp ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too distracted by the flash of gold which had just skimmed his left ear.

Elizabeth could tell Harry had seen it, she watched as he skillfully dived downwards, the Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, snapping at his heels.

Elizabeth had never seen two seekers so closely matched, but the Nimbus was faster. Harry put on a burst of speed-

WHAM!

The Gryffindor stands yelled and hollered in outrage. Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose and sent his broom spinning off course, Harry holding on for dear life. Elizabeth let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding, Harry was fine. In an instant of this realization she was ranting along with the rest of her housemates.

"FOUL!" She yelled. She wasn't sure if it was or not, there was seven hundred ways to commit a foul in a game of Quidditch, she couldn't be expected to remember them all. On the other hand, surely what Flint has just done couldn't be legal, he could've killed Harry.

It wasn't.

Madam Hooch gave Flint a stern talking to and declared a free shot to Gryffindor as an appreciative cheer rippled through, most of, the stands.

Ultimately, however, the golden snitch had once again disappeared.

From behind her, Elizabeth could hear Dean Thomas yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red Card!"

Elizabeth hadn't the foggiest what a Red Card was, but Dean's enthusiasm was contagious and she found herself yelling. "Yeah ref! You heard him, what he said!" Earning her a pat on the back from Dean and laughter from the others. Except for Ron that was, who simply looked confused.

"This isn't Football, Dean!" Ron reminded him. "You can't send people off in Quidditch. And what the bloody hell is a Red Card?"

But Hagrid seemed to be on Dean and Elizabeth's side.

"Well they outta change the rules, Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air!"

Lee Jordan's impartiality was fading, along with, it seemed, Professor McGonagall's patience.

"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, Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone I'm sure- so a penalty is awarded to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet who puts it away, no problem and we continue play…"

"Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle. Flint passes Spinnet- passes Bell- hit hard in the face by a Bludger; hope it broke his nose…" Elizabeth had always known Lee was funny, but she couldn't stop laughing, she would have to congratulate him on a job well done later.

"Only joking, Professor- Slytherin score- damn!" The Slytherin stands were roaring.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doin'," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn't know any better I'd say he'd lost control o' his broom! But he can't have." Elizabeth began to notice people throughout the stands pointing up at Harry. His broom had begun to roll over and over, with him only just clinging on.

It all happened so suddenly, but Elizabeth was frozen in fear. A fear like she had never felt before. The whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling thirty feet in the air, holding onto his broom with nothing but is right hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" For once, Seamus had a fair point. However, Hagrid's next words made it clear that something a lot worse than Quidditch rivalry was at fault.

"Can't have," he said, Elizabeth could hear a slight quiver in his voice that did nothing to assuage her current panic. Which also wasn't helped as Neville had now hidden his face in her scarf, sobbing, unable to watch.

"Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful dark magic- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At those words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she began looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, voicing the thoughts Elizabeth was unable to get out.

"I knew it!" she gasped. "Snape- look!"

Elizabeth watched as Ron grabbed the binoculars and his jaw dropped.

"He's doing something… jinxing the broom." Hermione's words brought Elizabeth out of her stupor so fast, it was as if the girl had slapped her around the face.

"What do we do?" Ron asked as Elizabeth nudged Neville to one side, who now transferred his sobs to Hagrid's jacket.

"Leave it to me," Hermione said, disappearing as Elizabeth snatched the binoculars from Ron's fingers.

Elizabeth searched for Snape and could see what Hermione was talking about. Snape was sitting in the middle of the faculty stands across from them. His eyes were fixed on Harry, unblinking, and he seemed to be muttering non-stop under his breath.

It was only as she continued to witness this sight, that Elizabeth began to think that maybe she wasn't getting the full picture. That maybe Ron and Hermione were seeing exactly what they wanted to see.

Elizabeth wouldn't, couldn't, deny that she often thought Snape may wish a painful death on her brother, but there was better, less public ways of going about it. He could slip him poison when they were testing potions in class, then blame him for not following the instructions properly. Or just strangle him in detention.

If there was one thing that she had come to realise in her short time at Hogwarts it was that Professor Snape was many things, stupid was not one of them. This was too public and he was being far too obvious. Something else was going on here.

She couldn't linger on that thought for too long, however, as someone knocking poor Professor Quirrell head first into the front row of faculty caught her attention. Before she could continue her search for the culprit, the stadium erupted in cheers. Elizabeth dropped the binoculars in time to see Harry clamber back onto his broom amid a gale of cheers and applause.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said, as Neville reappeared from the folds of Hagrid's giant overcoat.

Elizabeth took the first breath she had taken in far too long and for a moment felt slightly light-headed, only to feel the steadying hand of Hagrid at her back. She sent him a grateful smile, which he reciprocated, and turned back to the game.

The cheers in the stadium became raucous one more and Elizabeth saw Harry speeding towards the ground.

All of a sudden, he clamped his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick- he hit the pitch on all fours (Elizabeth began to wonder whether Harry's Quidditch career was going to be detrimental to her health,) – he coughed- and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" she heard Harry yell and the crowd, Elizabeth included, went mad. She jumped on Ron, who swung her around, almost knocking the head of poor Neville, who had now sat back down entirely baffled as to what was going on.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game ended in complete and utter confusion.

"He didn't catch it! He nearly swallowed it!" Flint was still howling, twenty minutes later, but it made no difference. Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the result. Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty and Cedric had won his bet.

Elizabeth, of course, was aware of none of this as, having met Harry and promptly punched him in the arm ("that's for scaring the life out of me.") And then enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug ("and this is for being OK.") All four were gathered around the table in Hagrid's hut being poured a strong cup of tea and discussing the events of the game.

"It was Snape!" Elizabeth could only just keep herself from rolling her eyes. "He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," replied Elizabeth and Hagrid in unison, each sending the other a small smile.

Elizabeth knew what she had seen, and she knew it wasn't as it seemed. She had even for a moment entertained the notion that Snape was muttering some kind of counter-curse, trying to save Harry, but maybe that was pushing it. The others, minus Hagrid, clearly didn't agree.

"Why would Snape do somethin' like that?" Hagrid questioned.

"Do you really think Snape is stupid enough to try and kill Harry in front of the whole school?" Elizabeth continued, she had to at least try and get them to see sense. Although slowly but surely she was beginning to lose hope.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "Why did he try to get passed that three-headed dog on Halloween?"

Hagrid, who had returned to the fireplace for more tea, dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" He said.

"Fluffy?" all four of the other occupants of the room questioned.

"That… thing, has a name?" Ron's face was somewhere between terrified and disgusted.

"Course he does. He's mine. Bought him off a Greek chappie I met down the pub, las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the…"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"No! Don't ask me anymore." Hagrid replied gruffly. "That's top secret that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it." Harry pressed on.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid.

Elizabeth gave up, the trio were far too stubborn to listen to what her and Hagrid were trying to say. She had come to the realisation that this conversation was going to go in circles. The trio were going to accuse Snape of some dastardly deed and Hagrid was going to say rubbish…a lot. It was only as she had completely zoned out, wondering if her tea leaves could predict whether the trio were going to pull their heads out of the sand for long enough to consider that they could be wrong, that Hagrid finally had enough.

"I'm telling' you, yer wrong!" He said, hotly. "I ain't the foggiest why 'Arry's broom started actin' funny, but Lil' Lizzy is right. Snape ain't gonna harm a student." He paused for a moment, clearly considering his next statement carefully.

It was only as Ron looked as though he had come up with another argument to disagree, that Hagrid jumped in.

"Now, listen to me, all of ya- yer messin' in things that ain't to be meddled in. It's dangerous. You forget that dog and you forget what it's guardin'. That's strictly between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."

Elizabeth's eyes went wide and she let out a, thankfully inaudible, gasp. She was glad the others seemed to lost in thought to notice.

She knew that name.

She knew that name all too well.

You didn't get to being as big a potions geek as she was and not know the name Nicholas Flamel.

But it didn't make sense. Why would Dumbledore be keeping it here, of all places. What in Merlin's name was going on?

She was so deep in thought that before she knew it, they were being ushered out of Hagrid's and back up to the castle. All she could hear as they left was Hagrid's repeated mantra, "I should not have said that."

Elizabeth loved the giant dearly, but knowing the stubborn streak of the three people in front of her, she could only think one thing.

'Hagrid, you really shouldn't have said that."