The following day, virtually everyone in the castle knew about what had happened, in one form or another. Draco seemed somewhat impressed with Staros taking on a troll, but also kept on about how truly 'Gryffindor' that was and wondering if he had been sorted into the proper house. Daphne and Blaise pointed out the same thing, in more polite terms. Daphne suggested that perhaps the 'House of the Brave Idiots' might be contagious and Staros spent far too much time in their presence.
When they found out why Hermione was in the bathroom half the day, neither was very impressed. Half of Slytherin may believe in Blood Purity, but they also believed, for the most part, in tact and decorum, neither of which were strong points with Ron.
Ron's actions also made their rounds through the other houses, leading to him being snubbed by many. Hufflepuffs treated him like dirt since Hermione was in the same house as he was and their sense of loyalty pretty much demanded that they never do such a thing to another person.
The Ravenclaws may dislike Hermione for her intelligence, wasted as it were in Gryffindor they thought, but respected her for the same reason. Nothing like top marks to impress a House of Knowledge and another reason to look down on less stellar students like Ron was always welcome.
Nothing the other houses did compared to Gryffindor, however. Everyone, down even to shy, timid Neville, shunned one Ronald Weasley. With the sole exception of the Weasley twins, who took it upon themselves to not so quietly drag their little brother off to a remote spot in the castle and 'explain' some things to him. Percy, whose stick-up-his-ass attitude was legend throughout the school, managed to score a few points with the 'godless rule-breakers' with his assistance in dragging said little brother to said remote corner of the castle. Ron was very quiet for the next couple of weeks, spending a lot of time by himself, with an expression of deep thought that looked to cause pain.
Staros managed to wriggle a few details about the conversation the twins had with their wayward brother and quietly let the rest of the Slytherin house know what had been said. While they house normally did not engage in idle gossip, even Professor Snape edged some tacit approval for the twins' actions, and more specifically, the lessons behind it.
A few nights in the House of Cunning were devoted to learning about debts, tact, and how to snub people without them realizing it, and sometimes thanking you for the insult. Direct, public, and obscene insults like those Ron had engaged in were considered an indication of lesser intelligence. Public insults of even the subtle kind were to be used only if one was in a position of extreme strength over the other, such as king to knight. Draco was rather unhappy to have Daphne stare coldly at him during this lecture.
The weather turned rather nasty in November. Staros was sure it was Hell on Earth, but everyone told him that this was quite normal for Scotland, something he frequently wrote to his grandfather about, wishing the Head of Family a polite 'Die You Evil Bastard' with every line. Replies were received with messages like 'Make Me' and 'I'm Sorry, I Can't Hear You Over The Sound Of The Warm Sand Under My Feet' plus pictures of sunny California.
Naturally, with the weather turning bad, the first Quidditch games were scheduled to start after the first week. Harry was spending less time with Ron due to the troll incident, like most of his house, but was also spending more time with Hermione. Staros had convinced Daphne that Hermione was a wellspring of research, so frequently the group could be found in the library, studying together. Blaise and Tracey invited themselves along, of course, but the big surprise was Neville. Like a turtle peeking out of his shell, Neville seemed to be getting better at talking to others. After seeing his talents with Herbology, the others quickly agreed to include him in their sessions, picking his brain about obscure plants and their uses.
The day before the first match, Harry asked Staros if he could get his book, 'Quidditch Through the Ages', back from Snape as it was confiscated that morning. Staros said he'd ask, but made no promises. Upon nearing his head of house's office that afternoon, he found the door open and an odd scene playing out.
Professor Snape had his robes pulled up over his knees while Filch was bandaging one of his legs.
"Blasted thing," Snape said. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"
Staros cleared his throat and knocked on the door jamb causing Snape to drop his robe quickly and give Filch a look of disgust as Snape realized the caretaker had left the door open.
"What is it Mr. Marcus?"
"I was asked if I could pass on a message from Potter, sir. He wished to know if he could have his book back, the Quidditch one you took from him this morning?"
Snape sneered, pulled the book in question from a box of confiscated items and threw it on the desk.
"Take it. Tell him to keep non-school books in his dorm room where they belong."
"Yes, sir." Staros picked up the book and left.
At dinner that evening, Staros returned the book to Harry and passed on Snape's message about personal books. He also 'let slip' the fact that Snape had been injured and most likely by the three-headed dog they had encountered earlier in the year. It never hurt to have privileged information safely tucked into different corners. Plus, they'd all seen the dog and knew it was guarding something, but Snape was a teacher. Why would he need to get past it?
The next morning was the first Quidditch match of the year. Staros spent a good portion of the previous evening and all of that morning trying to avoid the sports fanatics. He was never a sports fan himself, even though he respected the skills required to play most. Soccer and American football were his favorites if anyone forced him to pick, but Quidditch? No, he expected he would never be a Quidditch fan. To Staros, it was a weird mix of basketball, soccer, and flying tricks, many of which made little sense. America had teams of course, but it wasn't as well followed as the other American sports.
Unfortunately for him, Staros was to be dragged to the first match simply because of house solidarity. It promised to be a long day.
"Welcome everyone to our first Quidditch match of the season. I'm your announcer, Lee Jordan. Let's introduce our teams, shall we?"
Staros huddled in one of the least desired seats, next to the professors' box. No one ever wanted to be under the eyes of every professor in the school. Staros felt it was the best place to get some reading done. He was joined by a couple of Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff who obviously felt the same way he did. Everyone nodded politely, and then promptly ignored everyone else as they delved into one text or another.
"From Slytherin House, their team captain and chaser, Marcus Flint. Chasers Adrian Pucey and Graham Montague, rumors have it that Pucey only plays 'cause Flint said 'or else'."
"JORDAN!" came McGonagall's voice from the background.
"Sorry, professor. Anyway, rounding out the suspiciously all male team…"
"JORDAN!"
"… are seventh year beaters Kenneth Basil and Segum Milo, their almost keeper Miles Bletchley, and seeker Terence Higgs who has made it known that this will be his last season. A big round of applause for Slytherin losing three players in one year!"
"FOR THE LOVE OF!..."
"Now our Gryffindor team, here's the best keeper in the school, all around Quidditch fanatic, and captain, Oliver Wood! The best and prettiest chasers, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. I wish she'd chase me sometime!"
"LEE JORDAN!"
"What? She's cute… anyway, our own Dynamic Duo, the Weasley Twins, Fred and George… good luck telling them apart people, rumor is even their own mother has trouble… and finally, our newest player, youngest seeker in a century, HARRY POTTER!"
The Gryffindors, much to the annoyance of those students sitting with Staros, erupted into cheers louder than ever when Harry took to the field. Staros looked around and saw the teams line up, the game getting ready to start. Shrugging, he turned back to his book.
A whistle blew; Staros glanced up to see the game had started.
"And the quaffle is taken immediately by Johnson and she belts down the pitch, a neat pass to Spinnet, back to Johnson and… no! the Slytherins have taken the quaffle, Flint grabs it and is off down the field… buck teeth or not, the boy really can fly…"
"JORDAN!"
"… looks like Flint might score… no! stopped by an excellent move by Wood. Great job Wood! Bell has the quaffle now, dives around Flint, off up the field and… OUCH! That had to hurt, bludger to the back of the head… Pucey has the quaffle now…. But he's blocked by the other bludger, sent his way by Fred or George… seriously, someone paint a letter or something on them to separate them?... Johnson has the quaffle now and a clear field… off she goes, now that's flying!... dodges a bludger… near the goals… come on Angelina… Bletchley dives… misses, and GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"
Cheers once again interrupted study as the first goal was made. Staros sighed and realized he really wasn't going to get any effective study done with all the noise and put his book away, sat back, and watched the rest of the game. Some of the others near him were also of the same opinion but a few soldiered on.
"Slytherin has possession, Pucey dodges two bludgers, two Weasleys, and Bell, speeding down the field… slick flying there Pucey… zooming towards the goals and wait! He ducks? Was that the snitch?"
Pucey nearly dropped the quaffle as he dodged something that could only just be seen. A speck of gold zipping past his ear that drew everyone's attention as they tried to follow the path of the tiny snitch.
Harry and Higgs had both seen it as it passed Pucey, and dived towards it together. Neck and neck they hurtled down the pitch trying to gain on the elusive gold ball. Everyone else seemed to have slowed and forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they watched to two.
Harry's broom being the faster, he started to pull ahead. Reaching for the darting gold in front of him, he never saw Flint as the boy suddenly accelerated up at Harry.
WHAM! A roar of rage from the Gryffindor stands as Flint slammed into Harry's broom, nearly knocking Harry off.
A whistle is blown, Madame Hooch starts yelling at Flint, and a foul shot is awarded to Gryffindor.
"So… after and obvious and disgusting bit of cheating…" Jordan started, obviously having a hard time staying objective.
"JORDAN!"
"I mean, after that open and revolting foul…"
"LEE JORDAN! I'M WARNING YOU!"
"All right, all right… Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor seeker, which could happen to anyone, I suppose, so a penalty shot for Gryffindor…Spinnet takes the shot… puts it away, no trouble… Gryffindor keeps possession…"
Staros had been watching the game rather laconically. He was bored. Some of the flight moves pulled by a couple of players were rather slick, but it just didn't hold his attention. The few professional games he'd been dragged to were a MUCH faster pace and he felt a bit more attraction to those levels of play, but even still, Quidditch just would never be his 'thing.'
At some point, Slytherin had regained possession when several people near Staros started to whisper and point, none too inconspicuously. Looking around to see what the hubbub was about, he saw Harry rising higher on his broom which was jerking this way and that, almost like a bucking bull trying to unseat him.
Staros frowned wondering, 'Has he lost control? Is there something defective with his broom? Maybe Flint damaged it?'
By now, everyone seemed to have noticed Harry's predicament. His broom suddenly twisted sideways on him, swinging him off the side. Harry was now hanging from his broom. Staros looked around to see if anyone was trying to help when he noticed Hermione slinking under the stands near his seat.
The Weasley twins had climbed up next to Harry in an attempt to try and get him either back on his broom or catch him as needed. Meanwhile, Staros watched as Hermione stopped under the professors' box and cast a bluebell flames spell on someone's robes. Looking up, Staros saw Snape suddenly realize he was on fire and started stomping and dancing to put the flames out. In the process he knocked over Quirrell and Flitwick and spilled a drink onto McGonagall, all of whom frantically tried to help him put out the flames.
Hermione had disappeared, but looking over towards the Gryffindor seats, Staros saw Ron, Neville and Hagrid sitting together. Slowly making his way over to them, he was not surprised to see Hermione pop up from under the stands and sit down with them.
Looking up, Staros saw Harry's broom issues seemed to have sorted themselves out as Harry climbed back up onto his broom. Without any warning, Harry suddenly dived towards the ground only to clap his hands to his mouth. Reaching the ground, he fell off his broom onto all fours and looked to be about to get sick. A moment or two of retching and Harry popped the snitch out of his mouth to win the game. Shaking his head, Staros continued to walk over to Hagrid and company.
Harry rushed off the field to join Hagrid and Hermione, and met Staros as he started to climb the stands.
"Nice… um, catch there, Harry," Staros said. "Not the traditional method I believe, but it should count."
"Yeah, I thought I was going to swallow it there for a minute," Harry replied, laughing. "Hey, Hagrid! Glad you could make the game!"
"Heya, 'Arry! Staros! Great game wazn'it?" Hagrid exclaimed.
"Yeah, Hagrid, pretty intense."
Staros joined the group as they walked to Hagrid's hut. Everyone sat down, Harry got another lapful of Fang, and Hagrid started setting out for tea.
"What happened with your broom up there, Harry?" Staros asked. "Did it get damaged when Flint hit ya?"
"It was Snape," said Ron suddenly. Apparently, Hermione had allowed him back into her good graces, at least for now. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."
"Rubbish," said Hagrid. "Why would Snape do somthin' like that?"
"Well, he doesn't like Harry much," volunteered Staros. "Plus, I think he knows about a certain aborted midnight meeting. One where we all accidentally ended up running into that three-headed guard dog of Professor Dumbledore's."
"How do you know about Fluffy?" asked Hagrid, almost dropping the tea kettle.
"Fluffy? Seriously?"
"Yeah, he's mine actually. Bought 'im off a Greek chappie I met at the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard…"
"Guard what?" asked Ron.
"Eh, ye best ferget I said that," said Hagrid, looking very uncomfortable. "That's top secret, that is."
"Well, Professor Snape seems to be trying to get past your dog, Hagrid," said Staros.
"Maybe he's after what Fluffy is guarding!" piped Harry.
"Rubbish!" came Hagrid's expected reply. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."
"So why was he cursing Harry's broom?" asked Hermione. "I know a jinx when I see one. I've read all about them. You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all. I saw him!"
"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now listen, all o'yeh, yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget about Fluffy, an' you forget about him guardin' nothin'. That's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel…"
"Flamel? I know the Flamels," said Staros.
Hagrid looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. To keep on Hagrid's good side, everyone dropped the subject for now, after everyone kicked Ron in the shins a couple of times anyway. About an hour later, Hagrid seemed to have calmed himself and they left his hut promising to visit again soon.