Sup. Yeah I know, where have I been all this time? Let me answer that for you, school. Since I got back everything has been so hectic, now Sofia is reading this I guess I should start putting more effort and crediting her. Credit to Sofia (to Sofia: hope you enjoy this fanfic)

Disclaimer: I don't get money from this.

A WEIRD TURN OF EVENTS Chapter 9

As they entered November, the weather started to get colder and everybody started wearing scarves and gloves… with the exception of Natsu and Gray. Every morning the ground was covered in frost, Makarov and Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs window putting away the autumn equipment into the shed. Only a few (Harry, Ron and Hermione) noticed that every time the keepers would clean the field for Professor Scarlett, yes she would still make them run outside in the cold, they could see a large hand fanning away the leaves.

'Makarov uses titan magic which allows him to grow in size, this also increases his strength and vision.' A voice said from behind them, they wheeled around to see Professor Mcgarden clutching a book close to her chest, 'Enjoy the rest of your weekend!' She speaked then walked away.

'So Macky-'

'Wait a minute, 'Macky'?' Hermione questioned Ron

Every since the Halloween incident Hermione became their friend their grades boosted up a lot, of course Reese was proud of them and started to lecture Natsu that he should study more but always kept complaining and she decided to give up. Everyone was glad that she gave up since that would always somehow turn up the heat by a thousand.

'Yes Hermione, I said Macky. Anyways we now know that he uses magic, we can feel a little safer than before.'

He said as they sat down on the Gryffindor table and started to dig into breakfast. Harry began to read a Quidditch through the Ages that Hermione lent to him from the library, which turned out to be very interesting to read.

Harry learnt that there were seven hundred ways to commit a Quidditch foul and that all of them happened during a World Cup match in 1473; Seekers were usually the smallest and the fastest player in the game but most of the accidents happen to them, though it was rare that people would die during a game. Not to mention that referees had been known to suddenly disappear and reappear in weird places later on.

The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the three of them headed out to the edge of the field during break, Hermione summoned a small bluebell flame in a jar so that it could keep them warm. Before they could talk about anything, Snape limped right in front of them. By the look on Snape's face they knew they were in trouble, they were sure that the flame wasn't allowed but that seemed to pass his mind since he was focusing on something else.

'Library books are not to be taken outside of the library Potter. Five points will be taken off you.' He sneered. He snatched of him and limped away, passing Gray and Gajeel.

'Hey dude.'

'Oh hey Gray, hey Gaje- wait you're a part of Slytherin.'

'Don't judge a book by its cover. Anyways I heard Snape just took points off you that sucks.'

'Yep. Wait how did you hear that? You were like at least five metres away from us.' Harry questioned.

'I have really good sense of hearing.'

'Unfortunately…' Gray muttered under his breath whlie Gajeel nudged him in the ribs.

'Oh and Gray you might wanna get your uniform back on.'

He screamed while Gajeel handed him his uniform back.

'Anyways, good luck in Quidditch. Heard Flints out for lion blood.'

The trio looked at him mortified.

'Not literally, metaphorically.'

'Can't believe you actually knew what metaphorically meant Gajeel, call me im-Oww.' He yelped as he rubbed his bruised arm.

'Anyways, later.'

As they seemly walked away, the trio noticed a difference in Snape's walking pattern.

'Did you see the way Snape was walking?' Hermione asked the two boys.

'Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him.' Harry said bitterly

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ('How will you learn?'), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway.

Harry felt restless. He wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Snape? Getting up, he told Ron and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have it.

'Better you than me,'they said together so he asked Saphira.

'Hey Saphira, could you-'

'No'

'But I-'

'No'

He wasn't going to even bother carry on his sentence so he decided to ask Natsu.

'Oh hell no, I'm not going anywhere near that son of a-'

Before Natsu could finish his sentence, he yelped out in pain when Reese pinched his ear.

'No swearing in here Salamander,' Harry was about to ask Reese but she was one step ahead of him, 'Sorry Harry but my answer is no, maybe you will have better luck than me.' She said hopefully.

Harry doubted that but Harry had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if there were other teachers listening.

He made his way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Nothing. Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside - and a horrible scene met his eyes.

Snape and Wendy were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Wendy was using her magic to heal him.

'Blasted thing,' Snape was saying. 'How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?'

'Severus, calm down.'

'But if Erza wasn't there then I-'

Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but -

'POTTER!'

Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped.

'I just wondered if I could have my book back.'

'Harry please stay outside for a minute while tend Snape's injuries.'

Without any further argument, he did what he was told. When she was done she confronted Harry.

'Professor, I-'

Before he could say anything else, she handed him his book.

'It is not what you think it is, now please return to your dorm.'

He sprinted back upstairs.

'Did you get it?' Ron asked as Harry joined them. 'What's the matter?'

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen.

'You know what this means?' he finished breathlessly. 'He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him - he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!'

Hermione's eyes were wide.

'No - he wouldn't,' she said. 'I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe. Plus Harry, you said it was a bite mark. Professor Scarlett would've probably used her swords so they probably went after the culprit.'

'Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something,' snapped Ron. 'I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. If it wasn't for Professor Scarlett then he would've got what he wanted. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?'

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Neville was snoring loudly, but Harry couldn't sleep. He tried to empty his mind - he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours - but the expression on Snape's face when Harry had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

'You've got to eat some breakfast.'

'I don't want anything.'

'Just a bit of toast,' wheedled Hermione.

'I'm not hungry.'

Harry felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking onto the field.

'Harry, you need your strength,' said Seamus Finnigan. 'Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team.'

'Thanks, Seamus,' said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).

Wood cleared his throat for silence.

'Okay, men,"'he said.

'And women,' said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

'And women,' Wood agreed. 'This is it.'

'The big one, said Fred Weasley.

'The one we've all been waiting for,' said George.

'We know Oliver's speech by heart,' Fred told Harry, 'we were on the team last year.'

'Shut up, you two,' said Wood. 'This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it.'

He glared at them all as if to say, 'Or else.'

'Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you.'

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers.

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

'Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,' she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

'Mount your brooms, please.'

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

'And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—'

'JORDAN!'

'Sorry, Professor.'

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

'And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins 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 sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!'

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

'Budge up there, move along.'

'Hagrid!'

Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

'Bin watchin' from me hut,' said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, 'Look who came along.'

Reese and the others appeared behind Hagrid.

'Glad you guys could make it to the sho… why in Merlin's beard is Gajeel here?' Dean asked.

'None of your business,' Gajeel grunted. Hagrid took this as a sign to carry on.

'But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?'

'Nope,' said Ron, 'Harry hasn't had much to do yet.'

'Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin',' said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

'Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch,' Wood had said. 'We don't want you attacked before you have to be.'

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch - all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was faster than Higgs - he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead - he put on an extra spurt of speed -

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him., 'Hey Reese, got any idea what Dean is blabbering on about.'

Reese looked at him confused.

'I don't pay attention to football.' She said because firstly she was always on the run and secondly she lived in America so it was a possibility that they were both different and thirdly, she spent way too much time in Earth-Land.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul..."

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal-posts - he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out - and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - And oh no..."

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have..."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic - no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

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

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape - look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something - jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

They turned around to see Natsu with a serious look in his eyes.

Before Ron could say another word, Natsu had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Natsu," Ron muttered desperately.

Natsu had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; Natsu knew that Snape wasn't the bad guy and was trying to counter the spell, he also knew that it was actually Quirrell but couldn't reach him so he used a tiny bit of his fire dragon roar on Snape's cloak and hurried away.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told him he had done his job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, he scrambled back along the row - Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

'Way to go Harry!' Lucy cheered. Everyone was surprised when they saw Gajeel smiling at him. Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick - he hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete 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 results - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though.

'Good job Harry.' Lucy and Loke congratulated him. Gray gave him a pat on the back while Natsu gave Harry a thumbs up until he was interrupted by Gray and became to fight him until they were separated by Professor Scarlett. Reese hugged him tightly.

After that, he was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron and Hermione.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

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

"Fluffy ?"

"Yeah - he's mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, 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 to me, all three of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore, the Fairies, the Sabers an' Nicolas Flamel-"

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel and some others involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

Hey guys, please review and I bid you good day! O3O imma start doing double quotation marks.