Chapter 3 – Green Lightning
The occupants of Hogwarts, teachers and students alike, loved to sleep in on weekends. Very rarely would one find more than a handful of people in the Great Hall before ten in the morning. Today was one of those rare occasions.
The first Quidditch match of the 1991-92 season was due to begin in less than two hours. What appeared to be the entire school was in the Great Hall, and the cavernous room seemed to vibrate with the anticipation of the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match-up.
At the Gryffindor table, Katie Bell felt on the verge of throwing up. Angelina, Alicia, Fred, and George were all taking the pressure in stride. The other two chasers sat across from the two youngest members of the team, trying to coax food into them. Alicia had given a shaking Harry a piece of toast and was trying to talk him into eating it, to minimal success. Angelina had given up on words and force-fed Katie a spoonful of eggs.
This was Katie's first official game of Quidditch. She thought she would be ready, that a match would be just like practice. She had been practising with the team for over a year now. She thought she could handle the pressure of playing with them in a competitive setting. She was terribly, terribly wrong. What little food she had eaten was doing somersaults in her stomach. Katie closed her eyes and took a sip of water.
She looked at Harry sitting next to her, ashen-faced and staring at his untouched toast. She wanted to tell him to eat something but then looked at her plate. She hadn't eaten anything either.
Katie was many things, but a hypocrite was not one of them. She bit into a muffin and forced herself to swallow it. She looked at Harry, sitting next to her with an untouched plate. Katie tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to look at her.
"Eat." She ordered. Harry's eyes widened slightly, and he took a hurried bite of his toast, before swallowing a little too quickly. "Chew next time." She smirked and he grinned weakly back. Alicia and Angelina watched the two with more than a little bit of laughter dancing on their faces.
At that moment, Oliver strutted into the hall. As had become routine before they went out to the pitch, Oliver stole a piece of toast off Katie's plate. Oliver was Katie's cousin, but she considered him more like an older brother. An unfortunate side effect of their sibling-esque relationship was his propensity for thieving from her plate. She was a growing girl and needed her food, damn it! Today though, she didn't even have the energy to reprimand him. All her mental faculties were being used to keep the muffin inside her stomach.
Oliver watched her and Harry for a moment before he decided they had eaten as much as they were capable. He made himself a quick sandwich before getting up and grabbing his players' attention. "Shall we head to the pitch?" He received a few grumbles and grunts of affirmation.
The walk to the pitch felt slower than usual. Harry and Katie trailed behind the group. She couldn't tell what Harry was thinking, but if his thoughts went anywhere along the same lines are hers, he was considering running back up to Gryffindor Tower and hiding there till the match was over. When the team reached the door to the lockers, she noticed her breathing becoming increasingly shallow. She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths to combat the building pressure at the base of her skull.
The team went through the motions almost like normal. Alicia and Angelina teased and bantered like any other day, and she could hear the twins laughing about something from the boys' changing rooms. Still, there was a heavy atmosphere when the team was sitting around, strapping their equipment. Oliver had dragged them out early in the morning for a jog and some stretches. A light warmup to stretch their muscles and get in the right mindset, he'd claimed. Katie would never admit it to him, but it had helped.
She was broken out of her thoughts by a hand patting hers. She didn't realize hers had been shaking till the hand touched hers. She looked at the person sitting beside her. Harry leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed, but she could've sworn his cheeks were a bit pinker than usual. She squeezed his hand back, and when his eyes fluttered open, grinned nervously. He smiled back, his face a bit more relaxed than it had been all morning.
"We're all counting on you," Katie smirked at Harry. "No pressure, though."
Harry groaned, hitting the back of his head against the wall repeatedly. "I hate you."
"No, you don't," Katie grinned at him, and he laughed.
"Sure about that?" Before Katie could retort, Oliver stood up from where he was sitting.
"Alright, team. I just wanted to say a few words before we go out there," Oliver beckoned them toward him, and they formed a team huddle. Katie's arms were around Harry on her right, and Angelina on her left. Her fellow chaser grinned wide with a feral look in her eye, and Katie could only give a half-hearted nod in return. Oliver surveyed them, nodding approvingly at the third years, before stifling a laugh at the looks on her and Harry's faces. "We've worked really hard, and I know it's a lot of pressure to play the first game together. But we've worked our arses off, and we deserve this win more than anyone else. This is Harry's first game of Quidditch, pickup or otherwise. Let's make it a win for him. Gryffindor on three. One, two, three -"
"–GRYFFINDOR!" The team chorused. Katie glanced at her teammates and saw determination and resolve marring their features. Even the twins, who still had that constant look that they were sharing an inside joke, had a fire in their eyes. She imagined she looked much the same. To her right, Harry's expression was guarded. Not quite as carefree as the rest of the team, but equally as fierce.
The team stood around with their broomsticks in hand, waiting for Madam Hooch to call them onto the pitch. Angelina and Alicia approached Katie and threw an arm around her shoulders, trapping her between them. She noticed Alicia ruffle Harry's hair with her free hand, much to his indignation.
"Ready for your first match, Katie-Kat?" Angelina asked with a grin, using Katie's much-hated nickname. Katie glared at Angelina and stomped on the older girl's foot, eliciting a yelp that was more surprise than pain.
"Katie-Kat?" Harry's lip quivered with concealed laughter. Katie could only glare.
"I swear to Merlin, Harry," She pointed at him in what she hoped was a threatening gesture. "If you ever call me that…"
"Alright, alright," Harry held his hands up in a placating gesture, though his eyes still shone with mirth.
Just then, Madam Hooch's voice rang through the locker rooms asking the players to be ready to go out.
"Facing the reigning champions from Slytherin is TEAM GRYFFINDOR," Lee Jordan's voice echoed from outside the doors. "First, the captain and keeper, Oliver Wood!"
One by one, each player was called, and they went flying out. When their names were called, Katie followed Alicia and Angelina out the door, leaving Harry alone in the tent.
"–Bell! Last but not least is the seeker. Alicia Spinnet paid me five galleons to say this," Lee chuckled, and Katie paused in the middle of a warmup lap with her fellow chasers and looked at the announcer booth with confusion. "LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THE ROOKIE SEEKER, IT'S HARRY POTTER, GREEN LIGHTNING!"
Katie was laughing so hard she feared she'd fall off her broom. She watched Harry fly through the doors, putting on a burst of speed as he shot straight for them. His face was beet red as he approached Alicia.
"You're evil, you know that?" Harry glared at Alicia, who laughed.
"Am I now, Green Lightning?" Harry made a rude gesture before they flew over to the scrimmage line, where the rest of the team was assembled.
Katie landed next to Harry and threw her arm on his shoulder. "Why do you get a cool nickname, and I don't?" Katie teased him, mock pouting at him.
"What do you mean?" Harry looked at her innocently. "You have a nickname, right Katie-Kat?"
"I hate you" she ground out, her laughter vanishing.
"No, you don't." Harry grinned at her before turning back to Hooch's speech.
"I want a clean game out of all of you, no cheap tricks," she said, looking pointedly at the burly, vaguely troll-esque Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, who didn't even look sheepish. His beady eyes were locked on Oliver with unconcealed malice.
Hooch asked the players to get into position, and Katie watched Harry shoot up high into the air as the chasers formed a triangle around the centre of the pitch. Oliver, flexing his fingers after nearly getting them crushed by Flint's 'handshake', made his way to the goalposts.
As Katie watched Hooch open the box, she took a heaving breath. Her nerves threatened to overwhelm her, and her controlled breathing was the only thing keeping it at bay.
Then, Hooch took the Quaffle in her hand and Katie forgot all about her nerves as she zeroed in on the bright red ball. She knew she was the smallest and fastest flier on her team, so winning the initial contest would be on her.
She glanced at her fellow chasers; Angelina looked at her and nodded back. The older girl looked at Alicia, jerked her head in Flint's direction, and pointed at herself, then the other girl. Katie had been told that Flint was an egotistical git, and most likely to go for the contest, despite Pucey being the faster flyer.
Angelina then looked at Katie and gave her a thumbs up and a grin. At that exact moment, Hooch blew her whistle and Katie turned just in time to see the Quaffle leave the professor's hands.
Katie leaned forward on her broom, dashing for the quaffle from the right. She saw Pucey and Warrington, the other Slytherin chasers fly at Angelina and Alicia. Both girls shot right for Flint, who was flying towards the quaffle.
Katie slipped under the commotion as Flint slowed down, lest he crash into Angelina. She reached out her arm and her hands found purchase in the rough leather that was the quaffle. She tucked it under her arm and cried "Got it!" before breaking from the contest.
Within a moment, she felt two forms flying behind her as she flew for the goal. She knew it was her teammates because they didn't try to get too close. She also noted the Slytherin chasers trying to lock her in from the left and right. A whirring sound came to her left and Katie slowed down and ducked as a bludger flew at her from her right.
She needn't have bothered because Fred swooped in and swung his bat with both hands, sending the bludger to George, who sent it right into Pucey, who had been trailing between her and Alicia.
She turned immediately and hucked the ball to Alicia, who caught it deftly, making another break for the hoops. Katie immediately veered to the left, taking Angelina's mark with her. The older Slytherin cursed as he had to slow down to try to get between her and Alicia. Angelina dipped under Katie and her mark, breaking ahead as Alicia passed to her. The two girls passed the quaffle back and forth while Katie struggled to lose Warrington, who was doing a solid job preventing her from gaining any meaningful space.
By now, the play was approaching the penalty zone, and Katie saw the Slytherin keeper, Bletchley, tense up in preparation.
Alicia feinted a pass to an approaching Katie before passing to Angelina. Katie continued her path past her teammates, flying right past the keeper. She hoped that she'd be able to lose Warrington and distract the keeper, allowing Angelina to score. She turned around the hoops to see Angelina take a shot on the right hoop that was narrowly blocked by Bletchley.
She also saw that Warrington was still by the right hoop. So had Alicia.
The two girls made eye contact before Alicia swooped down for the quaffle. Katie shot toward the bottom of the left hoop, just in time for Alicia to catch the quaffle and toss it right into her arms. Warrington was now circling back to her. He was now in front of her, but not close enough to be a problem.
Katie lined up the shot and chucked it straight in.
The crowd erupted as the girls took a victory lap around the pitch. Katie was grinning like a loon, and she was certain that the nerves were completely gone. Oliver yelled congratulations when she flew past him, and Harry swooped down to give her a high five. Angelina and Alicia slapped her on the back before getting back into position. The Slytherin keeper tossed the quaffle back into play, and the chasers rocketed forward once again.
The Slytherin chasers made a triangle formation as they approached the girls. They passed back and forth with no discernable pattern, though Katie noticed that Pucey always hesitated for an extra half-second before passing to Flint. Perhaps Pucey didn't trust his captain. Katie smirked at the thought.
Katie looked at Angelina, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion. Angelina pointed at Warrington and gestured at Alicia, their best defender, to mark him. Katie flew up to Pucey and stayed close to his left. Pucey's eyes kept flitting to Warrington, even though Katie and Alicia were primed to intercept a pass.
Pucey reared his arm back and hesitated before passing to Flint. The ball soared through the air, but the moment of hesitation was enough for Angelina to put herself in front of Flint and deny his attempted breakaway. The quaffle landed safely in Angelina's arms and without any hesitation, the lead chaser turned around and accelerated towards the Slytherin pitch.
Katie followed Angelina, but neither chaser made it far before a bludger flew right into Angelina's arm, causing her to drop the quaffle as she cried out in pain. Katie tilted her broom downward toward the quaffle when she felt a large shoulder ram right into her ribs.
Katie gripped her broom her dear life as she veered to the side, nearly spinning into the stands. When she regained control, she realised that Flint had nearly shouldered her off her broom, allowing Pucey to recover the quaffle. With Angelina and Katie recovering from hits, and Alicia still preoccupied with Warrington, Flint and Pucey managed to double-team Oliver and score the first point for Slytherin.
Madam Hooch awarded Katie a penalty. Katie stared down Bletchley, the Slytherin keeper, as she approached him with the quaffle. She saw Bletchley staring back and noticed his broom slightly drifting to the right.
Katie picked up speed, darting toward the left hoop, and she saw Bletchley dive for the left hoop as she reared her arm back. Looking at his trajectory she knew he'd be able to block her if she committed to the left hoop. So, with a snap of her wrist, she sent the quaffle toward the upper right of the centre hoop.
There was a loud CLANG as the ball glanced off the ring right into the hoop. The crowd roared as Katie took her victory lap, slapping hands and bumping fists as she passed her teammates. She made a rude gesture at Flint as she passed him.
As both teams put up numbers, Harry Potter soaked in the energy of the Quidditch pitch. Oliver had been right when he said Harry would have the best seat in the house. Harry watched Katie pass to Alicia and then fly at the older girl's mark, letting her take a shot at the centre hoop. The quaffle went through the hoop to thunderous cheers from the non-Slytherin stands.
His nerves were still beating at the back of his mind, but being in the air had abated most of his reservations. Every time he felt a little too light-headed, Harry looked at the huge 'Potter for President' flag that Ron, Hermione, Seamus, and Dean were hoisting and felt a little braver.
Once the ball was back in play, Harry saw Angelina and Katie struggle to wrestle possession from Warrington and a quaffle-bearing Flint, and nose-dived down in front of Warrington, isolating him from Flint so that Angelina and Katie could double-team him. As he climbed back into his elevated position, he watched Katie make yet another break with the quaffle. That was when he saw a glint of gold near the Slytherin chaser who was marking Katie.
Adrenaline coursed through Harry as he dived once more toward the play and hoped that the opposing seeker just thought he was making an interference play again.
"Has Potter seen the snitch? Yes, there it is! Right next to Pucey."
Harry cursed as he flew faster toward the snitch. Pucey had slowed down to look at the snitch, allowing Katie to make a break and score. But the cheering was muted as everyone watched Harry and the snitch.
Harry was confident he could beat Higgs, the Slytherin seeker, to the snitch. Last he checked, his counterpart was near the other end of the pitch and Harry had the advantage. He could see the snitch. It was only a few meters away – WHAM!
Harry went spinning, struggling to bring his Nimbus back under control. He nearly collided with Alicia, who had thankfully only been on a victory lap.
"Alright, Harry?" Alicia slowed to a stop as Harry readjusted his glasses. "That troll Flint nearly knocked you off your broom."
Harry nodded and gave her a reassuring glance before climbing back into the air. Gryffindor had been given a penalty, and Alicia put it away with a flourish. Harry cheered when Alicia flew past. She grinned at him.
That was when his broom gained a mind of its own.
The laughter vanished off Alicia's face as Harry was tossed about in the air by his broom. He imagined he looked like one of those bull riders at the rodeo. Harry yelped as his hand slipped and he nearly fell off. He wrapped his arms around the broom like a sloth as it jerked in the air.
Alicia reached out to him, fear and worry marring her features, but pulled her hand back when the broom lurched away. He saw her pull out her wand and cast red sparks into the air. Hooch's whistle sounded as she flew over to them. Oliver followed behind her.
Immediately, the broom stopped flailing about. Harry paused, waiting for the broom to start tossing again, but it only floated calmly in the air. Tentatively, Harry loosened his grip and sat up straight.
"What's going on?" Madam Hooch questioned. "Why was Potter flailing about earlier?"
Alicia shrugged. "Maybe a jinx on the broom? Or maybe Flint damaged it when he rammed into Harry earlier?" Neither Hooch nor Alicia seemed to believe Flint had hit Harry hard enough to damage his broom.
"Uh, I think it's alright now?" Harry was royally confused. He was still holding the broomstick so hard that his knuckles were white, but he couldn't feel the foreign magic trying to overwhelm the Nimbus.
"Potter, do you want to continue the match?" Hooch asked. Oliver looked outraged at the thought of stopping the game, and so did Alicia, albeit for different reasons.
"Madam Hooch, Harry nearly died, surely he's not going to continue playing."
"I think I'm good to play, 'Licia," Harry floated over to the older girl and put a hand on her shoulder. "See? I'm in control now. Let's win this game."
Alicia and Oliver shared a look, and the keeper shrugged helplessly. She eyed Harry for a moment, and Harry saw his steely determination reflect in her eyes. She nodded at him before flying down the other chasers. Oliver looked at him, his desire to win and his concern for his seeker conflicting plainly on his face.
"You sure about this, Harry?" Harry nodded firmly, and Oliver nodded back before heading back to the hoops.
"Sonorus," Madam Hooch tapped her wand to her throat and yelled in an amplified voice.
"YOU HAVE TWENTY SECONDS TO GET READY BEFORE I RESUME THE MATCH."
Harry saw the chasers huddle together as the twins flew over to them. Alicia gestured wildly and Angelina and Katie looked up at him with concern. Harry gave them a thumbs up and a smile that he hoped didn't convey his anxiety.
Harry was no longer just fretting over whether he would catch the snitch. Now he was worrying about catching the snitch and staying on his broom.
When Madam Hooch blew the whistle, Harry started doing laps around the pitch. He searched desperately for the tiny, winged ball. The sooner Harry ended the game, the sooner he would be safe on the ground. As far as he knew, it was only a matter of time before his broom threw him off.
Harry circled the Gryffindor hoops when he noticed a large Slytherin chaser barrelling towards Oliver with the quaffle, though he was still a ways away from the penalty zone. The chaser had managed to break through past Alicia and Angelina and had a clear path to the penalty box. Harry flew straight at the chaser before tilting upward at the last moment.
The near collision caused the chaser to slow abruptly, allowing Alicia to swoop in and steal the quaffle. Alicia grinned at Harry as she passed the quaffle back and forth with Angelina all the way to the line of scrimmage.
Harry followed the chasers before he noticed Katie cherry-picking near the Slytherin hoops. Specifically, he noticed a glint of gold near her ear. Immediately, Harry leaned forward on his broom and willed it forward at top speed. He ducked into the play, flying between Angelina and the Slytherin blocking her, allowing her to make a pass.
"It seems Potter has spotted the snitch. Higgs doesn't seem to know where it is but he's hot on Potter's tail." Harry smirked as Lee spoke. The commentator had just told Harry that Higgs was behind him. Harry was definitely favoured to get the snitch now. "Oh, there's the snitch, right next to Bell!"
Harry laughed as Katie's mouth hung open as she stared at the snitch above her head. He barrelled straight at her, hoping she'd have the sense to get out of his way. Harry's laughter disappeared as the Slytherin seeker gained on him from his left. The older boy was now level with Harry, and he knew that it was now anyone's snitch to catch.
Harry pressed himself flat against his broom, pushing it as hard as he could and then some. Harry was still in the lead, but just barely. A whirring sound to Harry's right made him tilt his broom downwards and a bludger whizzed past where his head had been.
A loud curse to Harry's left told him that Higgs hadn't been so lucky. Harry laughed and used the opportunity to retake the lead. By now, the snitch had realised it was being pursued and began darting around erratically to evade him.
Katie had long since moved away to receive a pass from Alicia, scoring another goal.
The snitch swerved to Harry's left, and he swore loudly. Harry tried to turn to chase, but Higgs was intentionally slow on the turn, trying to knock Harry off course and make him lose sight of the ball. Harry was being led right into a wall when a well-placed bludger from Fred forced Higgs to dodge, giving Harry an opening to lose the Slytherin.
Harry put on a final burst of speed and left his counterpart in the dust. Harry grit his teeth as the wind scraped at his skin. His hair was in his eyes now and made them water. Harry blinked, tears leaving his eyes and escaping into the air as it battered him.
Harry reached out his arm. The snitch was only a few inches away now. Harry could almost feel the wings fluttering against his fingertips. Harry stretched as far as he could. His muscles screamed from the exertion and a hiss involuntarily left his lips. Harry felt the wind shift as a large presence barrelled toward him from his left. The presence was too large to be anything but a player.
Harry had a split second where he needed to decide whether to dodge the approaching player or catch the snitch. Harry cursed and leaned further forward, his fingers now grazing the snitch. At the same time, he saw a flash of scarlet swerve into the approaching player, leaving him free to wrap his gloved fingers around the snitch.
With the struggling snitch secured in his palm, Harry looked up just in time to see Angelina look at him from where she'd collided with Flint. When she saw the fluttering wings poking out between his fingers, her face split into a wide grin.
The pitch erupted into cheers as Harry held the snitch up in the air. Fred and George were the first people to find him, damn nearly knocking him off his broom as they gave him a mid-air bear hug.
Harry was still in shock. It still hadn't registered that they'd just won. All he felt was the shallow breathing and rapid heartbeat that he associated with adrenaline.
The moment Harry's feet met grass, he was attacked by three scarlet blurs. The chasers were all jumping around him, cheering. They hugged him, and Angelina placed a wet kiss on his cheek, turning his face the same colour as his robes. Alicia ruffled his hair before Harry found himself lifted off the ground.
This time, instead of his Nimbus, Harry, still clutching the snitch, was hoisted on the shoulders of the Weasley twins as the pitch was flooded with students wearing scarlet and gold. That was when the shock wore off. In just one moment, Harry went from feeling nothing to being overwhelmed with emotions. He was certain he resembled the Cheshire Cat. On impulse, he kissed the snitch and held it up in the air, and another wave of cheers filled his ears.
He'd done it. He had caught the snitch. He hadn't let his team down. Relief washed over him as he repeated the thought over and over.
He watched Oliver and Katie dancing around as Angelina and Alicia hugged each other. The twins, right below him, chattered excitedly about a party.
He had done this.
He was the reason they were all so happy. Harry felt it was a small repayment for the friendship they'd all shown him. Harry promised himself he'd catch the snitch every time for his team. For his friends.
Hogwarts had many myths and legends. Murderous ghosts and prankster poltergeists, secret rooms, goblin teachers, and cursed teaching positions, to name a few. One of the less mythical, but no less widespread legends was that of the infamous Gryffindor parties.
Harry had to admit that the party was truly legendary.
Fred and George had outdone themselves. They had brought back enough food to feed an army. When Hermione asked them where they'd got it from, they just grinned at her and said they'd tell her when she was older. They'd also come back with barrels of Butterbeer and smaller flagons of another drink that Oliver and Alicia had absolutely refused to leave anywhere near Harry.
Someone had cast a sound amplification charm on a wireless, and loud, upbeat music permeated the common room. People chatted enthusiastically, and all the players on the Quidditch team were swarmed with well-wishers.
Harry in particular was in the spotlight, and he felt every person in Gryffindor Tower had stopped by to pat him on the back and congratulate him for a brilliant game. Harry hadn't known how to react when the older students he'd overheard comparing him to Charlie Weasley congratulated him. Their forced smiles reminded him eerily of Aunt Petunia, and he looked distastefully at their retreating backs.
Oliver had mentioned that this was the most decisive Gryffindor victory since Charlie graduated. His mood had dipped a little when he heard that. Harry couldn't help but feel that the Charlie Weasley would've caught the snitch faster. Maybe he would've noticed Flint trying to body him and dodged. Maybe Charlie's broom wouldn't have tried to kick him off.
It was a subdued Harry who sat next to Ron and Hermione in a corner of the common room, nibbling on a large slice of treacle tart that the twins had procured specially for him.
"You were incredible, Harry!" Ron gushed. "That interference play with the chasers, on Warrington, I thought you'd crash into him. Bloody brilliant, mate!"
"Scared me half to death," Hermione shook her head, though a smile peeked through her disapproving tone. "There were so many times where I thought you'd fall off your broom. And who thought that making metal balls that try to knock you off your broom was a good idea?"
"Speaking of," Harry put his fork on his plate. "Did any of you see my broom try to knock me off?"
"Your broom – what? Did it break when Flint hit you?" Ron looked scandalised at the thought of the top-of-the-line broom getting damaged.
"I don't know. Maybe," Harry shrugged. "Though, it worked fine the rest of the game. Remember the time-out? That was because it was throwing me around."
"Oh, that's what that was for?" Ron seemed in thought, then looked sheepish. "I just thought the first-time nerves got to you and you needed a pep-talk or something."
Hermione smacked Ron over the back of the head lightly and Harry tossed a piece of tart at him. Ron caught it with his mouth and grinned at Harry, who returned it. Hermione shook her head fondly with a muttered, "Boys…"
"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione questioned, looking dubious. "Maybe you just lost control."
"He's not you, Hermione," Ron said with an impish grin that took the sting out of his words. It was a little jarring to Harry how much Ron resembled his twin older brothers at that moment. "Harry wouldn't lose control like that."
Hermione sniffed but made a noise that belied her agreement.
"Perhaps someone jinxed Harry's broom?" Hermione worried her lip between her teeth. "Though that's advanced magic, I doubt any students would know how."
"It's got to be a Slytherin though," Ron said confidently. "Who else would want Harry to lose?"
"Maybe it wasn't about Quidditch, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes, muttering about Quidditch-obsessed boys. Ron didn't seem to hear her.
"If the snakes are too thick to jinx your broom," Ron said, his eyes lighting up. He snapped his fingers. "Maybe it was Snape! He certainly seems to hate you enough to want to do you in."
"Professor Snape is a teacher, Ron!" Hermione looked as if Ron had accused her of trying to kill Harry. "He would never try to harm a student, even if it was Harry."
Harry only shook his head resignedly as his best friends bickered. He wondered if his broom had been jinxed. If so, who? Was it an older student that Malfoy had bribed? Perhaps Marcus Flint hit him with the jinx when he hit Harry. Or maybe Ron was right, and it was Snape. Merlin knew the greasy professor hated Harry enough. Regardless, Harry decided to take the broom to a teacher the next day, and he knew exactly which professor to speak to.
In the meantime, Harry saw Alicia and Katie finishing a game of exploding snap and decided he wanted to say hi. The arguing Ron and Hermione didn't even notice him get up and leave with his tart.
Katie waved at him absently as he took a seat next to her. She was glaring at the cards on the table and Alicia smirked at the growing frustration on the younger girl's features. Katie gingerly placed a card at the top of the pile and was entirely unsurprised when it exploded in her face. Harry laughed at Katie's soot-covered face.
Her glare turned to a grin, "What's so funny, Green Lightning?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, you'd know if you had a mirror, Katie-Kat."
"Kids, kids, don't argue," Alicia teased, shuffling the deck before stowing it away. She stole a large chunk out of his tart and ate it, responding to his glare with a toothy grin.
After swallowing, she looked around to make sure no one was paying attention before she turned to face him, looking completely serious. "Harry, how are you doing after all that broom business?"
Harry sobered.
"I'm fine. Honest," he added at Alicia's dubious look. "You got there so fast, and the second Madam Hooch arrived, the broom stopped acting up. So, I didn't get hurt or anything."
"What d'you think happened?" Katie asked, shifting in her seat so that she could look at Harry better.
Harry shrugged. "Hermione thinks there's a chance someone jinxed the broom. Ron thinks it's either a Slytherin trying to sabotage the team, or Snape himself."
At the mention of Snape, both girls raised their eyebrows. Katie started giggling.
"Thought of me falling off my broom that funny to you?" Harry raised an eyebrow, and Katie only started laughing harder. Harry's lip quirked and Alicia was openly grinning.
"No, because imagine," Katie got out between laughs. "Imagine confronting Snape about that. 'Professor, here's the essay you asked for. Also, just wondering, did you try to kill me at the Quidditch match?'"
Harry grinned at the thought. "I can imagine. 'Potter, you're as bigheaded as your father if you think I'd stoop so low as to kill you myself.'" Harry said in his best attempt at Snape's drawl. It ended up sounding more like a rasp than anything. Alicia was laughing now, and Katie had tears spilling out of her eyes as she clutched her stomach.
The next day, Professor Filius Flitwick scanned the Nimbus 2000 with his eyes as Harry Potter told him about the Quidditch match.
"You believe someone jinxed your broom?" He raised an eyebrow. Rolanda Hooch had told him and Minerva about the conversation she'd had with Mr. Potter and his teammate, Ms. Spinnet.
"Yes, professor," Mr. Potter nodded hesitantly. "You checked my broom yourself two days ago. It was in perfect condition then, and it hasn't left my dorm since then, until the game. Hermione was researching jinxes – apparently jinxes that could affect my broom might leave magic behind. I was hoping you could look at it again. See if they left something."
Filius returned the broom to his student, who looked dejected for a moment. "Mr. Potter, I believe you'd be better suited to check for foreign magic than I."
The boy's eyes lit in recognition. "Of course, professor! My magical perception," then he frowned. "Why didn't I think of that."
Filius chuckled. "Sometimes the best solutions are the most obvious, Mr. Potter. Somehow, those are always the ones we overlook."
Harry nodded seriously, with his hands wrapped tightly around the Nimbus. He closed his eyes, and Filius watched as Harry's palms glowed where they touched the broom, as his magic intertwined with that of the broom.
Filius smiled as he watched the young boy. In his mind, he wasn't seeing Harry Potter standing in front of him, rather he was seeing a girl with fiery red hair and the same emerald eyes that Harry shared. She had stood before him many years ago, asking him the same questions about her rare ability that her son had also inherited.
Filius thought that Harry looked so much more like his mother than people gave him credit. The furrow between his eyebrows when he concentrated and the slight frown when he didn't have the answer to a problem – that was all Lily.
"There's something else here, professor," Harry mumbled. His eyes were still firmly shut. Filius wondered whether Harry had reached the point in his abilities where he'd be able to see the colours of the magic. "I see three colours of magic here, professor. The first is the broom maker's one, I think. It feels like what I felt before."
"I recognise another one, it feels familiar," Harry gasped. "Professor, I think it's mine! It's red and green professor, and there's some white too. It looks like a candy cane." Harry said with a sheepish smile, and Filius chuckled.
"What about the other one, Mr. Potter? The third kind?"
"It feels bad, professor," Harry frowned, and his face paled. "It's black and silver, but it isn't like the other two. The other two look like electricity, but this one is more like smoke. The silver is wrapping around the black smoke like a snake. It feels weaker than the other two, but professor, it feels evil!"
Harry's eyes shot open, and he would have dropped his broom, if not for Filius' quick reflexes waving his wand and levitating it onto the desk.
"Mr. Potter! Are you alright?" Filius hoped there hadn't been some kind of trap that he'd exposed the boy to. He didn't think such a thing was possible, but one never knew with magic. Harry nodded shakily.
"I'm alright, professor," Harry shuddered. "That third magic, I didn't recognise it, but it felt so familiar. I – I think whoever jinxed my broom was someone I know. Or at least someone who I've met."
Filius frowned before waving his wand and casting an in-depth diagnostic charm. He cursed internally when he saw the boy was right – there was a third signature on the broom. It was nothing more than spell residue, but he was able to discern what the spell was meant to do.
Most modern brooms were fitted with anti-collision charms that would direct them away from any contact with a foreign object – other than the rider of course. The broom maker who'd invented this charm was a student of his who'd taken inspiration from muggle magnets, specifically the way magnets would repel each other when the same polarity was pointed at each other.
The jinx had dialled the sensitivity of the charm up to eleven and made it target Harry as well. The broom was trying to throw its rider off, along with repelling itself from anything even remotely close to it, including other people in the air.
This was not the work of cruel students, but of a dangerous witch or wizard who had something against Harry Potter.
Filius tapped the broom, dispersing any lingering traces of the spell – though it wouldn't remove the magical signature that Harry had found. Black clouds wrapped in silver. Even the description felt evil. For good measure, the professor added a detection charm that would warn him if someone attempted to tamper with the broom again.
"Miss Granger was correct, Mister Potter, someone did jinx your broom. Essentially, they inverted the controls, causing the broom to fight itself to even stay upright," Filius was saddened when fear flitted across the boy's face. He had been through so much already, and now someone was trying to hurt him in school. "I've placed some charms that will alert me if someone tries to tamper with your broom again. Keep your broom in your dormitory and be very careful."
Harry nodded, fearless determination replacing the momentary terror. Filius couldn't help but smile. Once again, he felt as if he was two decades younger, watching Lily Evans look back at him through the eyes of her son.
"Mr. Potter, I can't profess to be an expert in magical sensing, like your mother was," The boy smiled at the mention of his mother, and Filius' heart broke at the desperation with which he soaked up information about her. Perhaps his relatives, muggles that they were, were unable to tell him about her magical prowess. He decided he would rectify that. "But I can teach you to better harness your mind and magic, and I imagine that would help you unlock the true potential of your abilities."
"You'd do that for me, professor? I don't want to be a bother."
"Yes, Mr. Potter, it would be my pleasure," Filius frowned at the second part of Harry's statement. The boy looked conflicted between eagerness to learn, and a hesitancy to believe Filius would want to help. "Your mother was a good friend of mine, and it would be an honour to help you harness her abilities."
"Then yes, professor," Harry nodded excitedly, a shy smile spreading across his features as Filius chuckled at his pupil's enthusiasm. "I'd love to learn from you."
Later that week, Harry found himself knocking on the door to Flitwick's office. At the professor's beckon, Harry opened the door and walked in. The diminutive professor sat at his desk, marking essays. As he approached, he recognised one of the essays as Ron's. Harry winced at the 'P' for Poor next to his friend's name.
"Mr. Potter," Flitwick greeted him with a smile. "Have a seat, I'll be with you in a moment. I just need to finish marking Mr. Finch-Fletchley's essay on the applications and limitations of the mending charm."
He peered down at Harry from over his glasses. "An essay you should be familiar with, of course. You have done quite well on that one if I remember correctly."
Harry was quite pleased to hear that. "I hope so, professor. I've been putting a lot of effort into that essay, especially after all the magical perception stuff."
"I'm glad to hear that, Mr. Potter. I am happy that your ability has given you greater interest in my subject," Flitwick nodded approvingly before he turned serious. "Of course, I hope that your increased diligence does not apply only to charms. Professor McGonagall would be very cross with me if you slacked off in your other subjects."
Harry felt quite sheepish. He knew he ought to put more effort into his schoolwork anyway. Perhaps he would spend more time with Hermione studying – he knew Ron would be no help. He could even study with his older friends. Minus the twins. Harry snorted at the thought of inviting the twins to study in the library.
"Well, Mr. Potter, Shall we get started?" Flitwick waved his wand and the essays on his desk arranged themselves neatly on a side table. Harry nodded, excited to make some progress with his magical perception. "How do you think your ability works, Mr. Potter?"
Harry blinked.
"If I concentrate, I feel the magic in any object I touch. Once I touch it, sometimes, I can even see it," Harry said slowly.
"Correct, Mr. Potter, but let us look deeper," Flitwick handed him a feather and, once he concentrated, Harry felt the magic pulse under his fingertips. "Why do you think you can only sense it when you concentrate? You can see, smell and hear without thinking about it, correct?"
Harry frowned. That was a good question. Flitwick made magical perception sound like some kind of sixth sense.
"That is our goal. To help your magical perception become so natural that you can use it as easily as you can see or smell."
Professor Flitwick explained that Harry's mother had, much like him, not grown up around magic. Her muggle-born status had been a double-edged sword because, while it allowed her to easily distinguish between magical and mundane objects, her lack of familiarity with magic made it harder for her to distinguish different types and sources of magic.
His mum had harnessed the full capacity of her mind. It allowed her to remain in a state of passive perception. Flitwick told him that the skill that would allow him to do that was called Occlumency.
According to the professor, Occlumency was the art of protecting one's mind from intrusion, but it also had the added advantage of organising the mind. And once his mind was organised, passive perception would be easy.
However, the first step was to be the hardest.
"Alright, now that you understand the theory behind what we are going to attempt, I want to remind you that while I am a trained occlumens, I do not have your ability. This may not work, as there may be a component Lily used that I was unaware of," Flitwick looked unnaturally serious. "In that case, you will have gained a valuable skill in the form of occlumency, as well as a head start to understanding your ability."
Harry nodded, matching his professor's serious expression. Flitwick returned to his usual cheery countenance. With a flick of his wand, the desks in the classroom were stacked neatly against the walls, and two yoga mats appeared on the floor.
Flitwick sat cross-legged on a mat before gesturing at Harry to take the other. He explained that before Harry could begin organising and manipulating his mind, he would have to understand it. He told Harry to clear his mind of thoughts. "I like to imagine a fly is buzzing near my ear. As irritating as the sound is, it is nearly impossible to have many coherent thoughts," he said as he closed his eyes. Harry followed suit.
In the pitch-darkness of his eyelids, Harry felt his other senses tenfold. The soft click of the clock on the wall. The faint smell of parchment. Even the soft mat underneath him. He sensed them vividly. And as he sensed them, accompanying thoughts flit through his mind.
How long have I been sitting here?
Wonder what I got on that essay.
Wow, this mat is really nice.
Stop thinking. No thoughts.
Wait does that count as a thought?
Harry tried to imagine a fly buzzing in his ear, but his thoughts were filled with increasingly sadistic ways to kill the imaginary insect.
At some point, Harry gave up on trying to clear his mind. He had gone through the stages of grief, including anger at his incompetence, and sadness that he would never be able to harness his mother's ability before he landed on acceptance.
He figured that if he couldn't clear his mind, he might as well take the silence as a chance to relax. He'd had a very eventful two months at Hogwarts and thought he deserved a chance to unwind. He let his mind loose, and let the thoughts run their course.
Flying on a broom was rather relaxing but with Quidditch, even that had begun to require too much effort. He ought to go flying sometime. No snitch, no bludgers, just him, his Nimbus and the cool air against his skin. He smiled as he imagined the sensation of the wind rushing against his ears.
That was when it all went blank. Later, Harry would wonder whether he'd somehow emptied out his thought tank. But at that moment, Harry didn't realise his mind was empty – that would be a thought after all.
Lost in his subconscious, Harry relished the feeling of nothing. Nothing could follow him here, into the deepest recesses of his mind. Not the Dursleys. Not the mysterious broom-jinxer. Not the crippling insecurity and imposter syndrome he felt around his friends. No, he felt much like he did when he was flying – that is to say that he felt nothing except the wind in his hair.
This is nice.
That was a thought.
Harry cursed out loud. A chuckle from opposite him reminded him of his company and his eyes shot open. He looked at the chuckling professor, mortified. Flitwick didn't seem to be offended or angry.
"Having a hard time clearing your thoughts, Mr. Potter?"
Harry nodded. "I actually did it for a bit then I had a stray thought again."
Flitwick looked impressed. "That is better than I would have expected for your first attempt, Mr. Potter. Very impressive."
Harry blushed. "Thanks."
Flitwick accepted the gratitude with a nod, before closing his eyes again. Harry, taking the cue, followed suit and retreated into his mind.
Once again, he felt the thoughts flit across his mind as they always did. Until then, he'd taken thought for granted. Only now that he was trying to temporarily get rid of them did he realise how many of them there were. Harry didn't think he was stupid, per se, but he didn't expect this many. He shuddered to think of what Hermione's mind looked like.
He didn't fight the thoughts, instead letting them run their course. He tried to remember what his empty mind felt like so that he could replicate the feeling. Once again, the only comparison he was able to draw was to the feeling of being on a broom.
He allowed the feeling of flight to wash over him. The weightlessness, the freedom, the lack of restraint – even from gravity. The feeling washed over him and just as if he was truly on a broom, it repelled any other thought.
Eventually, even the thought of flight faded into nothingness and once again, Harry found himself in the empty darkness that was an empty mind.
This time, Harry felt more lucid. It was contradictory, he knew. How could he feel lucid when he felt nothing at all? But Harry felt that way, nonetheless.
He committed the feeling of his empty mind to memory. He studied it and worshipped it. The Nothing was all Harry knew. Harry didn't know how to get out.
He panicked.
And panic was a thought.
Like waking up from a particularly unpleasant dream, he jolted out of his mind. Suddenly, the clock on the wall felt much louder. The smell of the parchment was nigh overwhelming and joined by a plethora of other scents that assaulted his nose. Even the mat under his feet was more thoroughly felt – he could feel the roughness of the anti-slip protection alongside the softness of the foam. When Harry opened his eyes, he blinked out spots in his vision as the lights in the room gained halos of light as they glared at him.
Harry rubbed his eyes.
In front of him was the feather that Flitwick had enchanted. He picked it up and felt nothing. Frowning, he focused on the feather and suddenly felt the warmth that he associated with Flitwick's magic.
"It didn't work," Harry said dejectedly.
Flitwick smiled. "Mr. Potter, it takes adult wizards days to accomplish what you already have. This is something to be proud of," Flitwick patted Harry on the shoulder, and he nodded absently at his professor. "Do not expect to learn occlumency within a fortnight. It is a skill that takes years to master."
"Got it, got it," Harry mumbled. He felt a little better, but he couldn't beat the nagging feeling that his mum probably took to occlumency faster than he. Would she be disappointed he hadn't gotten it right?
"Now, Mr. Potter, I think it's time you got some rest," Flitwick smiled encouragingly. "You've done great work tonight, and we'll continue next week. In the meantime, keep practising clearing your mind, and I'm sure we'll see more improvement soon. Now, I believe dinner is in two hours, and that should be enough time for a short nap before you go down. I imagine you'll need it. Have a good rest of your evening, Mr. Potter."
Harry smiled tiredly before he went back up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, then to his dorm before promptly passing out. Professor Flitwick was right, thinking of nothing was exhausting.
A/N: More Quidditch in a Quidditch fic (no way!). Well, enjoy it because the next two/three chapters don't have a lot of Quidditch. BUT our favorite characters aren't going anywhere, and there's more to Harry Potter than just Quidditch :0
Per usual, don't own nothing fr
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