Chapter 15: Life Threatening Situations

Harry could have kicked himself when he got to the Great Hall and entire Quidditch team was lumped together at the Gryffindor table talking about how they were going to flatten Slytherin tomorrow. Why in the name of Merlin did he stay up late talking to his friends? At the very least, why hadn't he started his essay while doing it? With all of these thoughts running through his mind, he just groaned as he sank into an empty seat between Ron and Hermione, with Neville on the other side of Ron.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione was quick to notice Harry's discomfort while Ron had immediately lunged for a gigantic cinnamon roll.

"Oh I just forgot to mention that I'm on restriction until I finish a three-foot essay for Albus," Harry mumbled as he poured himself some pumpkin juice and took a serving of scrambled eggs with ham and cheese in them.

"Oh that sucks." Neville threw Harry a sympathetic look before grabbing a few pancakes.

"Wait, what does that mean?" Ron suddenly demanded with his mouth full of sticky cinnamon roll. "You can still play in tomorrow's game, right?"

"Ronald, don't talk with your mouth full," Hermione snapped as she finally reached for a blueberry muffin.

"You just have to be able to play," Ron stated ignoring Hermione. "We don't have a reserve seeker, and you're the best on the team. Plus it's your very first game and you're the youngest seeker in a century."

"I get it, Ron," Harry snapped successfully shutting him up for a moment. "If you would give me a chance to talk I'd explain." Harry's voice came out a bit more irritated than he wanted, but Ron didn't speak however so Harry pressed his advantage and continued. "Albus says that I'm on restriction until I get him the three-foot essay. That means that aside from meals and class, I'm not to be out of the Gryffindor common room or the library. That includes not going to, or playing, the game tomorrow." Before Ron could interrupt him, Harry hurried on. "However, if I manage to get the essay to Albus tonight before curfew, I'll be off restriction and even able to play."

"Why just until curfew?" Ron stated once more with his mouth full. Harry could just shrug. "But you could finish it tonight, turn it in in the morning, and be off restriction in time to go to the game."

"I don't know why he insists it be in tonight, Ron." Harry just sighed as he ate some of his eggs, chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. "I'm assuming that if I turn it in in the morning, I'll be able to go to the game but won't be able to play, though I honestly don't know."

"It's alright, Harry; we'll see what we can do to help you out," Hermione piped up as she brushed muffin crumbs off her lap. "Three feet isn't much, but it's quite a bit to get done in one day. Why didn't you start it last night?"

Harry sighed; that really was the question wasn't it? "I don't know, Hermione. I got to talking to you lot and just forgot. That's part of the reason I groaned when I sat down; I wasted all that time."

"Well, lucky for you we have our afternoon free since it's Friday." With that, Hermione took a clump of grapes and started popping them into her mouth.

"Wish we didn't have to go to Potions, though," Neville mumbled as he pushed his pancake around in the syrup on his plate. "Double Potions with the Slytherins makes Friday the worst day of the week."

"Oh come on, Potions isn't that bad." Hermione popped another grape in her mouth but leaned into the table to look at Neville. "You just have to focus and follow the directions. I can partner with you if you want; that will help."

"Thanks, Hermione," Neville said, perking up a little before he ate the last bite of his pancake.

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Potions class was as much of a nightmare as it ever had been. Professor Snape had long since given up on picking on Harry since Harry made it a point to read the text before coming to class as if there was going to be a pop quiz each period. Of course, with Snape, the possibility was pretty likely. The only thing Professor Snape picked on him for now was when the potion he was working on didn't turn out quite right. Considering Harry was the second best in the class, he just let the snide comments slide off him, especially since Snape usually gave him a halfway decent grade.

That day, however, Snape seemed to be even more cross than usual. Harry also noticed that the man was limping and seemed to be favoring the leg that Harry had seen bleeding the night before.

"Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin," Ron mumbled halfway through Snape's lecture when he snapped at Seamus for not knowing that you have to crush the basil leaves into a fine powder rather than just placing them in whole or in pieces and took five points from Gryffindor.

"Ron, you aren't supposed to talk about teachers that way," Hermione scolded. "You also need to pay attention instead of talking; you could miss something important."

"Look who's talking, Miss Rule Book," Ron snapped at her.

"For your information, I could probably answer any of the questions Professor Snape was to ask today," Hermione argued back. "You, on the other hand, probably don't even know what pages we were supposed to read last night."

"Sod off, Hermione," Ron snarled, glaring at her.

"If our dream team is quite finished talking about things they no doubt find more important than today's lesson, maybe they can tell us what would happen if you put the ginger roots in while the cauldron is hot." Snape's drawling voice made Ron and Hermione straighten and Hermione go red but quickly answer the question.

"Sir, if you add the ginger roots to a hot cauldron, it makes the potion cloudy and thick."

"Five points each from Gryffindor, Weasley and Granger, for disrupting the rest of the class," Snape snarled, not commenting on Hermione's answer.

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As soon as the bell ring, all four friends bolted for the door, wanting to place as much distance between themselves and Professor Snape as possible. Potions class was only once a week for first years, but all four friends couldn't help but think that that was more than enough.

"Well that was a bloody disaster," Ron commented as he flung his book bag on the floor before sliding into a library chair with Neville next to him.

"Watch your language, Ron," Hermione whispered waspishly as she placed her bag down sliding into her own chair. "So what's your essay on Harry? I can help by finding any books that might be helpful."

"I'm not so sure any book would be of help, Hermione," Harry mumbled as he slid into his own chair between her and Neville. Before he slid his bag to the floor like the others, he pulled out a bottle of ink, a quill, and a roll of parchment.

"What do you mean no book would be of help?" Hermione looked as if Harry had personally insulted her.

"Well it's not on a scholastic topic, Hermione," Harry said biting on the tip of his feather. "My assignment is to write on the importance of following directions, acting in an emergency, and what I could have done differently."

"Well you can still use books. Why else would Professor Dumbledore let you study in the library?" Hermione stated, getting up and walking off to disappear behind the bookshelves.

"Because it's quiet is what he said," Harry replied, not realizing Hermione was already out of earshot. When she didn't reply, he continued to think a moment, before readying his quill and starting to scribble out his essay.

When Hermione returned, she had no less than 10 books piled high in her arms. "All of these are on emergency procedures and listening to authority. That covers the first two topics of your essay, and you can also use the information here to come up with a plan and explain what you could have done differently."

"Blimey, Hermione; if he has to read all of those, he won't make it to the second Quidditch game, never mind tomorrow's," Ron stated as he took in all of the books. Hermione just ignored him and started flipping through her collected material.

Ron and Neville didn't stay much longer simply because Madam Pince didn't allow them to play Quidditch, chess, or exploding snap in the library. Hermione, however, diligently flipped through her stack of books and threw out random bits of information while Harry took what he really liked, since using all of the information she peppered at him would take closer to 5 feet, and that was without his own thoughts added in.

When Harry finally finished, Hermione looked it over to check for spelling. Harry was extremely grateful to her, and when it was finally pronounced finished, he told her he'd meet her back in the common room as soon as he got it to Albus.

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The next morning, Harry couldn't help but wonder if it would have been so terrible to have to miss the game. He had never been on a team before, and now it felt like the entire school was depending on him—or at least three-fourths of it. Gryffindors came up to wish him luck all morning, and even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs lent their support, since everyone seemed desperate to see someone besides Slytherin take the cup. While Harry found himself with overwhelming support, he also found that he had Slytherins trying their best to psych him out.

"Hey, Potter, you had a lucky catch," Malfoy smirked as he walked by the Gryffindor table. "Let's see how long it takes for a Bludger to knock you out. Then you'll have another scar to exploit fame from."

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron snarled. Neville had to grab Ron's arm to keep him from pulling his wand out. Malfoy just sneered as he walked away.

"Don't listen to him, Harry," Ron muttered turning back to his waffles. "You've practiced with the bludgers, and Fred and George are such great beaters they won't let one near you."

"Eat a bit of toast, Harry," Hermione urged, deciding to change the subject. "You're going to need your strength out there today."

"I'm really not hungry, Hermione," Harry mumbled as he glanced up at the head table. He found Albus and Minerva sitting side by side, and both smiled encouragingly at him. This helped, but Minerva was probably the one that worried him the most. He still found the woman more than slightly intimidating, and he wondered if she would yank him off the team if he didn't catch the snitch today.

"Good luck today, Potter." Harry had just picked up a goblet of pumpkin juice, but when he heard the silky voice of Professor Snape behind him he jumped about a mile in his seat and spun around to face the man as he sloshed the sticky stuff all down the front of his black school robes. "Talented. Hopefully you show more skill out on the field. Then again, after taking on a mountain troll, a game of Quidditch shouldn't be anything to worry about."

Before Harry could respond, he walked off with a swish of his cloak, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville speechless.

"He's completely mental," Ron stated as he shook his head and returned to some bacon on his plate.

"He's a teacher, Ronald," Hermione scolded as she held her wand up to Harry. "Tergeo." She gave her wand a tiny flick, and Harry felt the juice leave his robes.

"Thanks for that, Hermione," Harry stated placing the half-empty goblet back on the table.

"He was limping." Neville's statement made the other three all stare at him, and then look back over at Snape as he exited the Great Hall, then back at Neville who just shrugged. "I'm terrified of the man," he stated with a small squeak. "I can't help it if I watch his every move just in case he decides to hex me."

"He wouldn't hex you, Neville," Hermione stated exasperated. She glared at Ron as if his stupidity was rubbing off on Neville. "He's a teacher."

"His leg was bleeding when he came into the bathroom after we defeated the troll on Halloween." Harry's statement made everyone now turn to him, and it was his turn to shrug. "What else was I supposed to look at? It was clear Minerva was ready to strangle me."

"I wonder how he hurt it," Hermione said in wonder as she stared at the doors Snape had long since departed from.

"Whatever it was, it did a terrible job," Ron muttered before dancing out of the way as Hermione swung to smack his arm.

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The cheers were absolutely deafening as the Gryffindor team had walked out onto the pitch. Harry felt his stomach churn even more as he looked at the packed stands. There seemed to be a solid wall of crimson that cheered and supported banners. Harry couldn't help smiling when he saw that a bed sheet had been turned into a banner sporting the words "Potter for President" that flashed different colors painted above a large Gryffindor lion. It made him feel better to know he had loyal friends to stick beside him. On the other hand though, it also made him nervous that his friends would be disappointed if he didn't catch the snitch today.

Besides having loyal friends, he also had a wonderful broom. Harry knew immediately that he needed a broom to fly. That much had been obvious. What he hadn't thought of, however, was that he would need, much less receive, one of his very own. He had been performing spectacularly on one of the old school brooms, and he hadn't complained a bit. It didn't even cross his mind to since it would have been an unconceivable thought to ask his relatives for something of his own that he could borrow from the school. When he had gone to family night one evening at the beginning of October, though, Minerva had handed him a long, thin package that was neatly wrapped. Harry had been stunned at receiving a gift, but when he found that it was his own broomstick, he had been completely speechless. Looking closer at it, he had found he not only had his very own broomstick but that it was a top of the line Nimbus 2000. The only other player on the Gryffindor team with a broom this good was Oliver.

Now Harry was absolutely determined to show his thanks by performing his absolute best and making sure he caught that snitch! He had never had anyone do anything nice for him, and it seemed that Minerva and Albus did nothing but nice things for him. Sure he had been punished a few times, but each time he had put his own life on the line. The Dursleys had punished him loads of times, but not once had they cared if Harry endangered himself. He only got punished for doing freaky magic, or drawing attention from the school or neighbors.

Once Harry was finally in the air, he knew that it would have been absolute torture to have to miss this game. His stomach seemed to have settled as soon as he kicked off from the grass, and now he felt lighter than air. He felt so free that it was extremely hard to remind himself that this was an actual game, and he had to keep out of the way and not fly around showing off. This had been one of Wood's "battle plans." The entire school knew Harry was a first year and had made the Quidditch team with remarkable skills, but the plan was to keep them hidden as much as possible until the time came for him to really shine. Of course, that wasn't going to be terribly easy since they were playing Slytherin, and all of the Slytherin first years had been there when he caught Neville's Remembrall.

Right at first, Harry decided that the most entertaining part of the game was the commentary. He had never been allowed to watch muggle sports with the Dursleys, but Lee Jordan, a friend of the Weasley twins, was absolutely hilarious. Of course, the boy had to practically dance out of the way since Minerva kept looking like she was going to clock him a good one for three-fourths of his remarks.

Gryffindor was the first to score, and Harry felt like he was, quite literally, on cloud nine. He couldn't help himself, and he let out a couple of loop-the-loops to expedite some of his excitement.

It didn't take Harry long before he caught his very first glimpse of the snitch, and without even thinking about it, he lay flat on his broom and sped toward the golden ball. This was going to be absolutely amazing to catch the snitch so soon. Only one goal had been scored so far, and that would put the score at 160 to 0. Slytherin would have a hard time bouncing back from that loss. With all of this floating through his head and his concentration on the snitch, Harry wasn't paying attention to any of the other players until he suddenly crashed into a big wall of green.

Harry wasn't very big and was underweight because of his malnutrition at the Dursleys', so he found it a major accomplishment that he was able to stay on his broom. The jolt had ruined his concentration, however, and he spun out of control, only focused on not plummeting to his death 50 feet below.

By the time he got himself in control again, the snitch had vanished. Smacking his broom in frustration, he glared at the Slytherin captain Marcus Flint and couldn't help but smile at the fact that Lee was being quite liberal in his opinion of the boy. It didn't escape Harry's attention either that Minerva was doing close to nothing to discourage him this time.

Gryffindor was awarded a penalty shot, and Harry was glad to see that Alicia put the Quaffle easily into the goal. He couldn't let Flint's foul keep him unfocused or that could cost them the game completely, and he absolutely refused to allow that.

Harry didn't have much choice in the matter, though. Shortly after he had gotten refocused, he felt his broom give a violent jerk that felt like he had run into Flint again. However, there was nobody near him this time. At first he thought it was just a fluke thing and he had imagined it, but then it happened again. Soon, it was all Harry could do to stay on his broom since it seemed determined to knock him off. He decided that it would be best for him to try and signal Wood for a timeout so he could figure out what was going on, but he found that he had absolutely no control. His broomstick was no longer listening to him, and he felt himself being lifted higher in the air as he continued to be jerked around. What was going on?

Harry was so startled that he couldn't even scream for help. Now it was a little late since he was drifting farther and farther from the other players, and the wind didn't do him any favors.

Harry was wondering why he hadn't kept his wand in his robes when he saw players around him finally notice what was going on and attempt to pull him to safety onto one of their brooms. It didn't work, though, because as they got closer, Harry got higher and avoided their grasp. The team finally backed off and circled below him as if hoping to catch him if he fell.

It seemed like an eternity later, but Harry had finally been unseated from his broom and was dangling in the air as he held on with one hand. He knew he couldn't hold on any longer and was just praying that someone from his team would catch him when the time came; or that someone with a wand handy knew a spell to form a giant net that would catch him. As it turned out, there was no need for his team to catch him or for a giant net. At what seemed like the very last second, Harry's broom stopped trying to buck him off, and he was in control once more. It took him a fraction of a second to swing his other hand up to grab the broom and then swing himself the rest of the way on before speeding to the ground just to get out of the air for a moment.

Before Harry hit the ground, he felt something fly into his mouth and practically choke him. It was too big to completely swallow so it was causing a bit of discomfort. About five feet from the ground, he gave up and rolled off his broom just letting himself drop to try and dislodge whatever it was that was blocking his airway. When he was finally able to cough it up, he stared at his hands stunned before holding up the tiny gold ball. "I've caught the snitch!" he shouted, and the stadium was a complete roar of noise as everyone tried to figure out what exactly had happened. Harry hadn't even meant to catch the tiny ball he was now holding between his fingers, at least not this way. He hadn't seen the thing but had rather been completely focused on getting out of the air before his broom tried to kill him again.

Harry didn't have time to wonder what exactly was going on, however, because Minerva had shoved her way through the crowd and was instantly at Harry's side, followed closely by Hagrid, Hermione, Ron, and Neville. It felt amazing to have friends that truly cared like this.

"You just took 10 years off my life, Potter," Minerva stated as she clutched her heart. Hermione flung herself to the ground beside him to check if he was alright, and Harry couldn't help but blush slightly. "I thought we said no more life-threatening situations." Minerva's voice was scolding, but she too got down and hugged him tightly after running a diagnostic with her wand.

"It wasn't his fault, Professor!" Hermione chimed in as she stood and offered her hand to help Harry up. "Professor Snape was jinxing his broom. I saw him."

"I know it's not his fault, Miss Granger," Minerva snapped, slightly distracted, then the rest of the brown-haired witch's sentence caught her attention, and she turned to face her. "That is complete rubbish. Severus is a Hogwarts teacher and would not try to attack Harry."

"Yeah, he might not like me, but he doesn't hate me any more than the rest of you," Harry stated, also shocked at this turn of events. Snape had made it clear that he didn't like any of the Gryffindors, but it wasn't as if he went out of his way to make Harry's life hell. He reserved those efforts for Neville. Besides, he didn't think Snape was stupid enough to try to attack him publicly like that. On top of this, hadn't it been Hermione that had reminded them all day yesterday that Snape was a teacher and wouldn't try to hurt them? What was going on?

"It's true, Professor," Hermione insisted stubbornly. She didn't like feeling incompetent in front of adults, and while Hagrid barely counted, Professor McGonagall was Harry's soon-to-be adoptive mother, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, the Head of Gryffindor, and the Transfiguration Professor. There was no way Hermione wanted to look incompetent in front of her. "When Harry's broom started going out of control, I recognized it as a jinx because I've read all about them. I took Hagrid's binoculars to look through the crowd, and Professor Snape wasn't breaking eye contact and he was muttering constantly. That's how a jinx works, Professor."

"I am fully aware of how a jinx works, Miss Granger. I can assure you that I am much older than you are and have seen many in my lifetime. I have also known Professor Snape longer than you, and he is not the type to jinx a broom or put a student's life in danger like that." Minerva's tone was hard, and Harry could see why Hermione had been put in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw because she still wasn't backing down. Minerva seemed to realize this as well, so she continued. "You say you have read up on jinxes. Have you perhaps read up on anti-jinxes as well? They require the same focus and concentration. Since you insist on pushing the matter, you can write a three-foot essay for me on jinxes and counterjinxes to be turned in when you come to my class Tuesday."

"But Professor!" Hermione sounded like she was completely desperate now, and Ron and Neville each grabbed one of her arms.

"Let it go, Hermione," Ron mumbled low in her ear.

"I'm not crazy!" Hermione all but wailed as she looked at Minerva with pleading eyes. "I'll write the essay, but I'm not crazy. I know it was him. Harry wasn't safe until I set fire to Professor Snape's robes."

At this statement, everyone stared at Hermione, and she seemed to realize she had given away too much information in her hysterical babbling because she suddenly bit down hard on her lip to keep from saying anything more.

"You did what, Miss Granger?" Minerva's attention was solely on Hermione now, and the girl looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but there.

"I, um..." Hermione could only stutter as she looked at her feet. "When I saw Professor Snape jinxing Harry's broom, I panicked and set out to stop it so Harry didn't fall and get hurt. I kept a low profile and just sort of... set fire to his robes. It didn't last," Hermione assured them, almost as panicked now as she had been when she had seen Snape muttering and staring at Harry. Quickly, she placed her hand inside her robes and pulled out a jar of blue flames. "I conjured the blue flames, and then when he broke contact, I scooped them into the jar and ran."

"Miss Granger!" Minerva was completely speechless. She had been caught off guard with Hermione's accusations of Severus trying to make Harry fall off his broom, but this was absolutely astounding. "Nothing gives a student the right to set fire to a professor!" Hermione hung her head and began studying the ground once more. This gave Minerva a bit of strength to get over her shock. "If you think something is wrong, with a professor or student, you need to alert a professor right away. You do not take matters into your own hands, and you definitely do not set anyone on fire! I don't care how controlled you think it is. What if that fire had escaped your control, Miss Granger? We were in a wooden stadium, and if it had caught fire we could have all been burned."

"I didn't think about that, Professor." Hermione could barely speak, and she blinked her eyes rapidly to fight back tears that were clouding up her eyes.

"That, Miss Granger, is obvious." Minerva's tone was cold, and Harry thought her lips had completely disappeared off of her mouth. "20 points will be taken from Gryffindor Miss Granger for your incredibly foolish decision. You will also serve detention with me this evening and with Professor Snape tomorrow evening, since it was him you set on fire."

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked up to face Minerva, looking absolutely horrified. There was no way she wanted Snape knowing what she had done. She would be dead the first instant he got her alone. "Y-yes ma'am." This time her whisper was barely audible as she stuttered her understanding.

"On top of the essay I just gave you on jinxes and counterjinxes, you will also write a five-foot essay on what could have gone wrong with your plan, including what could have happened if you had broken Professor Snape's countercurse while the jinx was still being applied." Hermione paled at this thought. "Also include in that essay how you could have better handled the situation. They will be handed in next Saturday morning, or you will have two more detentions next weekend. Am I understood?"

"Yes ma'am." Hermione couldn't hold in the tears anymore, and she was extremely grateful when Neville squeezed her hand comfortingly. All she had wanted to do was help her friend from being killed, and now she was in more trouble than she'd even been in her life.

With Hermione finally taken care of, Minerva turned to Harry. "Are you sure you're alright?" Now that he was standing she waved her wand again to take one more diagnostic, and when she found nothing wrong, she let the four friends traipse off to Hagrid's hut to converse about the day's events, especially since she was pretty sure Hermione was only staying held together because she was still in front of the professor who had just punished her.

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Author's Note: I wanted to thank you all for your wonderful reviews once more. I'm also extremely excited I finally reached the 100 mark! You guys are truly amazing. I also want to apologize for not updating last week. I try to get an update a week but sometimes it just doesn't happen so I'm sorry.

As for this chapter, I hope you guys liked it. If any of you are shocked that Hermione told Minerva she set Snape on fire, I can easily picture that because Minerva was doubting her, and Hermione doesn't want to seem like an idiot. Therefore she jumps into psychotic babbling in an attempt to prove herself, and you have to remember that neither of the boys know exactly what Hermione did to stop Snape so they didn't realize they should probably try hard to shut her up before she gave anything away.

Coming up, we see Albus and Minerva's marriage, as well as an introduction to Lupin. Hope you are as excited as I am if not more :)

~Lily