In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 29: Quidditch Strategy
Ash sat next to Harry, in the library at lunchtime on Tuesday, who was otherwise alone. Harry had a book open and was reading it. Ash set the sandwich that he was carrying onto the table, along with a cup of pumpkin juice.
"What's that about?" Ash asked.
"I found it, buried among the stacks while looking for another," Harry said, "Currents of Time, bit bizarre, claims that time isn't as straight as we think it to be."
"Hmm…" Ash muttered.
"That when our lines of our lives are intertwined, we see each other," Harry said, "If our paths in time don't intersect, well, we'll never have met, know each other. This author didn't give his name, wrote it anonymously, even posits the possibility that death is just our souls separating, forever, from our bodies."
"Any proof?" Ash asked.
"No, just conjecture," Harry said, handing it over to Ash, "Suppose Hermione'll be interested."
"Where are they?" Ash asked.
"Great Hall," Harry said, "Lunch."
"Aren't you hungry?" Ash asked.
"No," Harry replied.
"I'll share," Ash said, dividing the peanut butter sandwich into two.
"Thanks but no thanks," Harry replied.
Harry glanced as Ron landed on his four poster bed Tuesday afternoon.
"Hermione's safe?" Harry asked, already in a white T–shirt with blue trim and red shorts.
"Yep," Ron said as he changed into a similar T–shirt and orange shorts, "She and Gia are going out."
They went for the door, their Firebolts in hand.
"Wish we could fly," Ron said.
"Expressly forbidden," Harry said, "I agree, more convenient."
"At least we'll get a chance," Ron stated.
"Any new strategies?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, practice," Ron replied.
They walked fast as they went through the corridors, brooms still in their hands, and were halfway along the first floor corridor when the familiar greasy voice boomed out.
"Potter! Weasley!"
"Already late," Ron grumbled.
Harry and Ron bolted into a run.
"LOCOMOTOR MORTIS!"
In near unison, with their legs locked up, Harry and Ron fell face forward, their noses smacked the floor; blood oozed out.
"Perfectly justified," said Minister Fallerschain, two steps behind Professor Snape.
Professor Snape grabbed the back of Harry's and Ron's shirts. "Finite Incantatem!"
Minister Fallerschain covered with a drawn wand as Professor Snape pulled Harry and Ron up. Blood dripping down, splattering red onto their white shirts, they were pushed forward, fast, down the corridor, toward the Hospital Wing while their Firebolts remained behind on the floor. Madam Pomfrey, on the edge of a curtained bed, glanced at the entrance.
"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she came over. Her wand was already out.
"They're here to see their latest victim," Professor Snape said.
Ron glanced at Harry's eyes, just as perplexed as his.
"They are to be treated!" Madam Pomfrey examined Harry's and Ron's noses. She flicked her wand, the bleeding stopped. "Fortunately, nothing severe."
"Take a look," Professor Snape said, dryly, as he thrusted Harry and Ron toward the curtained bed.
Minister Fallerschain pulled the curtain back. On the bed, Justin Prewett was on his side in a full body cast. His face was heavily bruised and his eyes were puffed shut.
"Prognosis?" the Minister asked.
"Mr. Prewett will likely recover," Madam Pomfrey said, "However, there is a good chance of some effects being permanent."
"What happened?" Harry asked.
"You caused this," Professor Snape sneered.
"Finally," Minister Fallerschain said, "Somebody is holding you spoiled bullies accountable—"
"We did nothing!" Harry protested, his bottle green eyes glared at the Minister.
"Codswallop," Professor Snape said, "Over twenty witnessed the beating of your fellow Gryffindor into a coma. As Gryffindor no longer has any points left, your brooms are forfeit—"
"You will take no action Severus." Professor McGonagall entered the Hospital Wing. Her eyes moved immediately to Justin Prewett on the bed and she came over fast. "My goodness!"
"Minerva, was it?" the Minister asked, while he nervously scribbled onto his notebook in his hand.
"A fundamental duty for a head of house is to ensure their charges do not kill one another," Professor Snape said dryly as he released his grip on Harry and Ron.
"Explain yourselves!" Professor McGonagall demanded.
"We do not know—" Harry said.
"Bollocks!" Professor Snape snapped.
"Give them a chance to explain," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes focused on Professor Snape, before they returned to Harry and Ron, standing there, with bloodied white T–shirts.
"We did not touch him," Ron said, "We do not know."
"Balderdash!" Minister Fallerschain exclaimed, in his sparkling sky blue robes, "I witnessed it! They spilled that poor kid's blood!"
"When was he beaten?" Harry asked.
"You ought to know!" Minister Fallerschain said, "Expulsion has already commenced, this is now a criminal matter."
"Minister," Professor Dumbledore said from the doorway of the Hospital wing, "Expulsion is my decision to make, not yours."
"This is a Hospital Wing!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, "I have patients!"
"My office," Professor Dumbledore instructed.
"Your only semi–reasonable order so far!" the Minister barked.
Tapping of Professor Dumbledore's cane led the procession, as they moved as fast as the Headmaster could muster, to the second floor. Past the Stone Gargoyle and up the ascending stairs, they entered the Headmaster's office where Professor Dumbledore sat behind the desk. Almost out of habit, after Professor Dumbledore propped his left hand up on the cane, Professors McGonagall and Snape flanked just behind him. Harry and Ron stepped in front of the desk. Minister Fallerschain took the step, stood immediately behind Harry. Harry rubbed his scar for a moment, an action that caught Professor Dumbledore's eyes.
"Are you alright Mr. Potter?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Yes," Harry said.
"You're running a circus!" Minister Fallerschain said as he pointed backward. "You have a second year in a coma and you are worrying about the assailant's headache!" The Minister pointed at Dumbledore. "You ought to be worried about the safety and security of the students in your charge. These two thugs are jeopardizing that!"
"As Headmaster, I am charged with safety and well being of every student," Professor Dumbledore said, "I am also charged with protecting their rights. Therefore, Severus, please explain."
"After a disagreement in which Potter assaulted me in the most undignified manner possible," Professor Snape said, "We came across Potter and Weasley beating on Prewett on the first floor, and yes, I clearly recognized Potter and Weasley. They flew off on their brooms before we could apprehend them, so I brought their victim to the Hospital Wing. When we came across them coming back to the scene of the crime, likely to gauge the effectiveness of their attack, I commanded them to stop, but stronger measures were required to gain their compliance."
"Running is a clear sign of guilt," Minister Fallerschain said.
"With all due respect," Professor McGonagall said, "Given the ongoing feud between Mr. Potter and Severus Snape, Mr. Potter has every reason to run regardless of guilt or innocence in this matter."
"Minerva McGonagall, that's your name, right?" Minister Fallerschain said, as he scribbled another comment into his notebook, "Wouldn't want me to get that spelled wrong."
"And what did you see Minister?" Professor Dumbledore asked, his blue twinkling eyes fixed upon the Minister's.
"I will tell you what I saw," Minister Fallerschain said, "I saw these two, in their school uniforms, beating that poor student into a bloody pulp. That is what I saw, a matter that, as per school rules state, demands the immediate expulsion of—"
"I remind you again," Professor Dumbledore said, "Expulsion is a matter for me to decide."
Professor Dumbledore's turned to Professor McGonagall.
"Mr. Finch–Fletchley brought this to my attention," Professor McGonagall said.
"Mr. Pot—?" Professor Dumbledore started.
"Why bother?" Minister Fallerschain snapped, "We know—"
"Give him the opportunity," Professor Dumbledore said.
"We were walking along when Snape attacked—" Harry said.
"Lies!" Minister Fallerschain snapped.
Professor Dumbledore's eyes settled upon the Minister, before they returned to Harry.
"We were going from the dormitory to Quidditch practice," Harry said.
"This fellow is a known criminal, in case you have failed to read The Daily Prophet!" Minister Fallerschain said, "It's systemic, he is a murderous raving lunatic, take Potter's actions this summer on Privet Drive—"
"What about Privet—?" Harry asked.
"You intentionally flattened it!" the Minister said, "As the only wizard in that area AND being seen fleeing the scene moments later—"
"I did not flatten it!" Harry protested.
"Magic as an underage wizard warrants immediate expulsion and destruction of his wand," Minister Fallerschain said, "You have repeatedly violated both that and performed magic in front of Muggles! You—"
"Minister," Professor Dumbledore said, "Mr. Potter has many enemies that would be eager to destroy him in any fashion—"
"Only one and he was certified destroyed fifteen years ago," Minister Fallerschain said, "The board of governors will convene at noon on Friday to compel you to do your job."
Minister Fallerschain hurriedly left the office. Harry glanced at the blue and white Puddlemere United pennant affixed to a telescope on a pedestal before he, once again, rubbed at his scar.
"Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"He is definitely not a fan," Harry said.
"Severus," Professor Dumbledore said, "Search the castle, including the laundry, for all uniforms belonging to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley."
"Urgent need to wash out the blood?" Professor Snape sneered before he departed.
Ron raised his eyebrows.
"I am ashamed at the disgrace that has befallen the house of Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said.
"Our doubles—" Ron said.
"Have been busy," Professor Dumbledore said, "I believe you."
"I would like to too," Professor McGonagall said, "but dozens witnessed—"
"Professor," Harry said, "An impostor is an impostor regardless of how many people witness it."
Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled for a moment.
"In fact," Harry said, "The more the better as they seem intent on framing me. In fact…" Harry paused for a moment. "…the Minister said school uniforms."
"But you are in—" Professor McGonagall pointed to their white T–shirts and shorts "—now."
"Let us hope that is enough," Professor Dumbledore said, "In the meanwhile, keeping your presence at Hogwarts to only what is needed would be advised. Minerva, please escort them to their dormitory. Harry and Ronald, please show up for classes tomorrow."
Harry and Ron landed in Gia's bedroom, in Noigate. They went down the steps with their wands in their hands, turned the corners, and entered the study. Harry closed the door. Ron thumbed Practical Legilimency and Occulumency as he sat on the sofa.
"Hermione'll be ticked," Ron said, "She'd love to read this."
"She doesn't need this," Harry said, sitting next to Ron on the sofa, he turned to face Ron, crossed his legs, "I do. Besides, might come in handy while banging."
Ron laughed as he turned to face Harry.
"Attack me first," Harry said.
"Alright," Ron said.
Ron's blue eyes gazed into Harry's bottle green, hand on the wand.
"Legilimens!" Ron said.
Nothing.
"Think I can make it a tad easier," Harry said, "Try it again."
"Legilimens!" Ron said.
Again, Ron gazed into Harry's eyes, concentrating hard, penetrating. Ron caught it, a quick flash, Gia's starkers cleavage along with joy, before it stopped.
"That was the first time, it's become so…routine, still fills me up," Harry said, "It's progress."
"You offered it up," Ron said.
"I know," Harry said, "I'll try."
"Okay," Ron said, a bit nervous on what Harry would find.
Harry's bottle green eyes set on Ron's, hand gripped the hilt of the holly wand with its phoenix tail feather core.
"Legilimens!" Harry said.
A sparkle came to that bottle green, around the black pupils, when the dread surfaced; the same horror Ron felt the night Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets, the guilt.
"How much?" Ron asked.
"Horror and guilt over something," Harry replied.
"Harry, these are getting…personal," Ron said, "More intense than—you know, the eye thing."
"I know," Harry said, "But it's either you or Snape."
They kept at it, dredging up more and deeper images, memories, including giving Voldemort a lifetime unofficial Harry Potter fan club membership and Ron being dragged by Sirius to the Shrieking Shack.
Harry's bottle greens trained onto Ron, "Fear and worry? Me?"
"Got a big ugly wizard after you," Ron said, "One that nobody wants to touch, the adults flee, hand you a wand, and say, 'Good Luck'!"
"About sums it up," Harry said as he flipped the pages to the book.
"We're also threatening Hermione's exclusive membership to the bookworm club," Ron said.
Harry snorted, his thumb landed onto Chapter Three: Introduction to Occlumency.
"Need to fight…" Harry muttered.
"And I know that look," Ron said, "Something—wait, you were rubbing your scar earlier—"
"I said it was nothing!" Harry snapped.
Ron glared at Harry's eyes, felt the pain as Harry began to mutter.
"Alright!" Harry said, "Just a tingle, some minor trouble."
"You should tell—" Ron started.
"It was really vague," Harry said, "Nothing of consequence."
Harry and Ron kept practicing for a short while, when Harry broke out in laughter.
Knock! Knock!
"What's so funny Harry?" Hermione asked.
Harry had the book closed in under a heartbeat, shoved it beneath the cushion, as he went over, opened the door. Hermione stood there.
"Ron really got into it," Harry said, "That's all."
Ron sniffed the air, glanced at the darkness of the evening gracing the window.
"And yes," Hermione said, "It's bonfire night, so Richard's got the grill going."
Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, Neville Longbottom pushed the last bit of his apple pie aside, returned his focus to his essay in the half empty Great Hall. Candles above kept the darkness of the evening out, the only stars were bewitched into the ceiling.
"It is strange, the events that happen beneath this roof," Luna Lovegood said.
"Easy to figure out, people going mental," Neville Longbottom replied.
"This is different," Luna Lovegood replied.
The doors opened, Ernie Macmillan came in.
"I've checked, at least our resident thugs are nowhere to be found," Macmillan said as he sat down next to Dean Thomas.
"Likely planning their next assault," Wayne Hopkins said.
"If that keeps them busy then they aren't bothering me," Thomas said.
"And just how do you know that?" Finnigan stood up, spoke louder. "Just who here is tired of sitting around and letting a bunch of jerks run about us?"
Applause came forth from the others in the room, most held their eyes toward Finnigan with his bruised right black–eye. Finnigan jumped up onto the table, stood, as he surveyed the others.
"And you cannot remain safe by staying in the shadows," Finnigan said, "Today, a fellow Gryffindor was beaten into a bloody pulp. Tomorrow, any guesses?"
More cheering came forth, Finnigan took a bow before he sat back down.
"It could have been something else," Neville said.
"I know Potter seemed like a nice guy," Finnigan said, "He fooled you, he fooled me, he fooled us all. As he attempted to murder Prewett today, I got socked trying to stop him—ask any witness who was there, even Draco Malfoy. If Professor Snape showed up any later—well, let us just say that none of us are safe while Potter is around."
"Professor Snape's always so mean—" Neville said.
"Yes, he's very mean, especially to those who deserve it," Thomas said, "But he will keep us safe. Honestly, I'd rather have Snape watching my back than the footprints treading all over McGonagall."
Ron led the charge, out the door, Richard's face was illuminated by the flames from the gas grill.
"Care for a wiener?" Ron asked.
"Prat!" Hermione snapped.
Harry stood next to Richard flipping the hamburgers. Jen put the buns and condiments on the grill's side–table, next to a stack of paper plates.
"I want it well done!" Andy demanded.
"Alright." Richard slipped up a half–done patty onto the flipper and moved toward Andy.
"That's not what I meant!" Andy snapped.
"You said you thought it done," Richard said, frustrated. He turned to Harry. "Can I have another—?" Richard's fingers gripped his nose.
"Those things are vicious!" Andy protested, her fingers went into her mouth and she faked a gag.
A quick glance at Richard, Ron understood the desired item to be a Dungbomb or two.
Harry sighed and said, "Is she always a brat?"
"Am not!" Andy protested, "He's always a dick!"
"Thanks for showing me that a kid—" Harry said.
"I am NOT a kid!" Andy protested.
"Can I have one?" Gia asked, next to Harry.
"What?" Harry asked. Ron glanced, caught Harry's sudden thought about needing a baby stroller.
"I meant…" Gia grabbed a paper plate, and pointed at a done hamburger on the grill.
Ron sensed the relief in Harry.
"Sure," Richard said, his flipper moved the patty over.
"I want it!" Andy screamed.
Gia sat on a bench, began to work on her hamburger.
"You'd think a brat would see that there's more than one?" Richard stated.
"I am leaving!" Andy stormed off, pouting. "Henry will make the night!"
"Good riddance," Richard said.
"Better that way," Harry said, "Dungbombs go lousy with hamburgers."
"Agreed," Richard stated.
"Those look done," Hermione said, leaning against Harry.
"Yep," Richard said, "Mind?"
Harry held the paper plate, while Richard brought the patties over. Richard put some hot dogs onto the grill. Ron took the two steps, grabbed a plate, added cheese, ketchup, and mustard to his hamburger.
"Careful," Hermione said, as Ron realized he her.
"Sorry," Ron said.
He sat down next to Gia, Jen to the other side.
"This was a good idea," Gia said.
"This is Richard we're talking about," Jen said, "There's more to come."
"What?" Ron asked.
"Not saying," Jen replied.
Ron was tempted, but decided against it.
"Here," Richard said, as he brought over a hot dog in a bun.
Jen glanced at Richard. Ron glanced at Harry who was sitting next to Hermione. Harry picked at his hamburger, one nibble only, before he whistled and Snuffles approached.
"Here," Harry said, offered the plate to Snuffles who gratefully accepted it.
Richard turned off the grill, ate a hot dog in his hands as he moved around the house, out of sight.
"What happened at school?" Gia asked Ron.
"Huh?" Ron asked.
"Harry's appetite," Gia said, "Something happened."
"Yeah," Ron replied, "Let him tell you."
Gia got up, grabbed Harry, brought him inside.
"She's—?" Hermione started.
"You know how Harry gets when he's stressed," Ron said.
"School's stressing him out?" Jen asked.
Ron thought about answering, however, Hermione was ready.
"It's not going well for any of us," Hermione said.
"But, you're so brilliant," Jen said.
"Ta," Hermione said, "If only our problems were that simple."