Chapter Ten
November came, and the weather got colder. Frost covered the castle and the grounds; the lake was as cold as ice. Back home, Harry's family would be getting ready for Thanksgiving. Families in America gathered to celebrate how their Puritan ancestors had sailed from England to the New World to start a new life free of persecution for their beliefs. American history tended to clean up the historical facts for a glamorized tale of the Pilgrims and the Native Americans peacefully meeting and sharing a meal. The truth was much grimmer and more brutal, as Harry's family had taught him and his siblings. The Addamses celebrated the American holiday not to honor the colonizers who had come to the New World but to give thanks for what was good in their lives, their love for each other, and how they strived for better times.
Lurch and Morticia would prepare a sumptuous banquet of family recipes, filling the manor with delicious aromas, like Pumpion pie, mashed purple potatoes with yak's butter, and for the main course, roasted emu! Britain did not celebrate the strictly American holiday, so Harry felt homesick again, as the holiday came and went unnoticed by his fellow students. Again, he'd asked Prof. McGonagall if he could go home but was told he would be the only student leaving for the holiday, so he could not be given special treatment.
Quidditch Season was beginning. On Saturday, Harry would be playing his first-ever game of Quidditch. The match would see the Gryffindor team going against Slytherin. Gryffindor would be second in points for the House Cup if they won.
Harry had been practicing in secret with his new teammates. Wood wanted Harry to be kept as the team's secret weapon. Somehow, the fact that he was the new Gryffindor Seeker had leaked out, and everyone was talking about how Harry Potter-Addams was the youngest Seeker in a century! Students wished him luck everywhere Harry went, except for the Slytherins, who said their superior team would crush him.
Harry's new friendship with Hermione helped him keep ahead with his school work, with all the extra practice Wood had been putting him through, and orchestra rehearsal. She gave Harry a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, an almanac of the sport's history. It detailed the game's rules, its birth on Queerditch Marsh, and all the legendary games, such as the one that lasted three months.
Since her rescue, Hermione seemed to have mellowed in sticking to the rules and her usual stuffiness. The three of them had been spending their free time together, becoming better friends. The three had been hanging out together in the frosty courtyard when Snape went storming past, at least as stormily as he could, with a pronounced limp. Snape's usual sneer was marked with pain with every step he took.
"What's happened to Professor Snape?" Hermione wondered. Ron snorted and said he neither knew nor cared; he just hoped Snape's leg hurt like Hell. Harry remembered the night of the Troll incident.
"I think I know what happened to Snape." He said and began to tell Hermione what he'd already told Ron about, how the Troll had been brought to the castle, how Snape and Quirrell had reacted to it, and how Snape's leg had been wounded as if bitten by something huge. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized he meant the Cerberus on the Third Floor.
"Why would anyone go near that thing?" she asked incredulously.
"It's something to do with whatever Hagrid brought from Gringotts. Something small, most likely very valuable or compelling. Something dangerous enough that even Gringotts wasn't safe enough to protect it." Hermione shook her head in disbelief.
"But Snape and Quirrell are teachers; they work for Dumbledore; they wouldn't try to steal something he wanted to be kept safe in the school!" Ron rolled his eyes.
"What better way to take something than from the inside! Either Snape let the Troll in and went after what the dog was guarding, or he made Quirrell do it so he could steal whatever's under there!" The three continued to wonder what could be valuable enough to hide at Hogwarts and why Snape, Quirrell, or both would want it.
The following morning was the day of Harry's Quidditch Match. At breakfast time, Harry picked at his food nervously. He wasn't used to being nervous; Gomez taught him to face everything bravely and daringly and consider life a significant challenge. Despite trying to psych himself up, Harry felt a wave of worry in the pit of his stomach. Hermione tried getting him to eat, but he wasn't hungry.
By 11:00 AM, the whole school was in the stands. Ron and Hermione found seats in the Gryffindor section. Harry got dressed in his Quidditch kit. Around him, the other teammates got ready. Wood cleared his throat and addressed the team.
"Right, mates, this is it! First game of the season, and against Slytherin to boot! This has to be a victory for Gryffindor! Not only must we defeat Slytherin for the honor and glory of Gryffindor, but if we win, we're second for the House Cup! You're all the best players I've seen in years, so don't disappoint me! Now let's go out there and kick some arse!" The team cheered and stood, ready for the game.
Harry followed Fred and George as they passed out of the locker room and into the stadium. Harry carried his Nimbus in his hand. Fred and George were enthused about the fantastic broom. They each had Cleansweep Fives, good brooms for their time, but the Nimbus put them to shame. Harry offered to let them take rides on his broom during practice, which they were happy to take him up on.
Madame Hooch was the match's referee, wearing black and white striped robes and a pair of flying goggles on her head. The Slytherins were standing behind her, all clad in green uniforms. Every one of them glared at the Gryffindors like they were scum. As soon as the Gryffindor team lined up before Madame Hooch, she addressed both teams.
"Now I want a nice, clean game from all of you!" She directed the last part towards the Slytherins in particular. The team Captain, a boy named Marcus Flint, glared at Oliver. Marcus had an ugly, squarish face with crooked teeth, a squashed nose, and bushy eyebrows. He reminded Harry of Cousin Eustace, who was a quarter troll. Ordinarily, Flint would be pretty handsome with those features, Harry thought, but the hatred in his eyes spoiled it all.
Wood and Flint shook hands, but there was no pleasure in either of their eyes. Oliver gave a slight wince as Flint squeezed his hand very hard. The two Captains returned to their teams and directed them to mount their broomsticks. Madame Hooch mounted her broom and put her whistle to her lips. Hooch and the players rose into the air in a circle. She gave a sharp, shrill toot on the whistle and tossed the Quaffle. The chasers on both teams went for the Quaffle; Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor grabbed it and took off.
"And Johnson takes the Quaffle, a fantastic chaser, and quite a looker!" announced Lee Jordan, a commentator for the match. Professor McGonagall was there as co-commentator, though she was more there to make sure Lee stayed on topic, didn't show favoritism, and kept his commentary clean.
Angelina passed the Quaffle to Alicia Spinnet, who passed it back, only to have Flint snatch it. Flint flew to the Gryffindor goalposts and threw the Quaffle, but it was blocked by Wood, who tossed it back to Katie Bell of Gryffindor. Katie flew but got hit by a Bludger by the Slytherin team. Adrian Pucey took the Quaffle towards the Gryffindor goal but got hit by a bludger sent by the Weasley twins. Angelina took hold of the Quaffle again, flew to the Slytherin goal, and scored.
Ron and Hermione cheered with their House at the game's first score. Hagrid came squeezing through the stands and sat next to them both.
"Been watching from me hut, but t'ain't the same as being 'ere in person!" Ron and Hermione filled him in on what he'd missed. So far, Harry and the Slytherin Seeker were still hovering above the other players, scanning for the Golden Snitch.
Harry watched in fascination as both teams flew, swooped, dived, blocked, and scored. It may have seemed like he had a more straightforward job playing the game than the Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers, but he had to keep a close watch for even the slightest glimmer of gold and be ready to swoop after it before the Slytherin Seeker had a chance to.
Adrian Pucey had the Quaffle; Fred and George each sent a Bludger his way, but he ducked them both. Katie flew to try to take the Quaffle from him. Suddenly, Pucey was startled by something zipping past his ear. He dropped the Quaffle, letting Katie grab it.
Harry saw the tiny glimmer of gold fly past Pucey and zoomed after it. The Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, flew after Harry as fast as possible. Harry and Higgs were neck and neck, flying after the tiny Snitch. Higgs swerved his broom into Harry's side, trying to knock him out of pursuit. Harry dodged Higgs by swooping over the other Seeker and sped ahead as fast as he could push his Nimbus.
Marcus Flint blocked Harry's way just as Harry was about to grab the Snitch. Harry swerved to miss the Slytherin Captain just in time, but the Snitch was gone. The crowd roared in outrage at the Foul. Madame Hooch severely reprimanded Flint and awarded Gryffindor a free shot. Harry resumed his place, hovering over the field, watching for any sign of the Snitch.
Harry waited for his moment, scanning as closely as possible for the slightest glimmer, when his broom suddenly jerked. Harry was nearly flung off his broom but held on tight. Again, the broom jerked and shuddered as if trying to buck him off like a wild stallion. Harry tried to land his broom, but it refused to respond to his direction.
It wasn't long before the crowd noticed something was wrong. Several students pointed at Harry as they watched his broom jerk and shake. Hagrid watched with a pair of spy glasses.
"Wha's t'matter wit' 'Arry's broomstick? S'like it's trying te buck'em off!" The crowd watched as Harry's broom began to spin upside down, over, and over. Harry clung tight as he could. He almost lost his grip while upside down but maintained his grasp.
Hermione grabbed Hagrid's spyglasses and scanned the crowd. Soon, she caught sight of something odd. Everyone watched Harry's struggle in the teacher's box, but Snape was staring intently and muttering a string of incantations.
"Oh my god, it's Snape! He's jinxing the broom!" Ron snatched the spy glasses. Snape stared without blinking, muttering over and over. Behind him, Quirrell also stared intently, but he was silent and calm. It was as if he was waiting to see Harry fall to his doom without a trace of his usual perpetual state of terror.
"It's not just him, look at Quirrell!" He passed the spyglasses back to Hermione, who saw for herself how the notoriously timid Professor was unusually collected. Hermione gave Ron the spyglasses and said she would be back. Hermione rushed from the Gryffindor and stood towards the teacher's box.
Ron watched in trepidation as Harry clung for dear life. Occasionally, he glanced at Hermione, who was pushing her way through the stands as fast as she could. Snape and Quirrell never took their eyes off Harry, staring intently at his predicament.
Fred and George tried to pull Harry to one of their brooms, but Harry's Nimbus was jerking so hard and fast they couldn't get a grip. Marcus Flint took the opportunity to score as many goals as possible with the Quaffle, even as some of his teammates watched the spectacle in horror.
Hermione squeezed behind the stands and crawled until she was right behind the bench where Snape was sitting. Carefully, she grabbed the hem of his robes and pointed her wand.
"Lacarnum Inflamari!" she whispered, and a jet of blue flames shot from her wand and set Snape's robes on fire. Hermione sat back and watched for the fire to catch someone's attention. Soon enough, one of the teachers shouted, 'FIRE!' and began to try to put the flames out.
To his astonishment, Snape jerked his head down and saw that his robes had been set alight. As he stood and tried to put himself out, Quirrell was given a hard shove and fell off his seat to the floor. Hermione rushed back to the Gryffindor stands, satisfied her job was done. Eventually, the fire was extinguished, and everyone's attention was drawn back to Harry.
At last, the broom fell still, and Harry was left panting in exhaustion from the struggle to keep from falling to his death. Just as he got his bearings, he saw the Snitch. Quick as a flash, he tore after it, his hand outstretched. Higgs flew after Harry but couldn't catch up. Harry flew as fast as he could, arcing straight to the ground. The crowd watched with bated breath as Harry flew like an arrow to the ground below. Just as it looked like he would collide, he pulled up on his broom, still chasing the tiny golden sphere.
Carefully, Harry balanced himself on the handle of his broom like a surfer on a board. He inched along the shaft, stretching his hand as far as possible. Unfortunately, he leaned too far and tipped his broom forward. Harry fell in a half summersault and skidded across the ground. As he picked himself up, he brought a hand to his mouth and spat out the Golden Snitch.
The crowd roared for Gryffindor's victory as Harry's teammates flew down to congratulate him. Harry felt pride swell in his chest at winning his first Quidditch match. Flint tried to call foul, saying Harry didn't catch the Snitch legitimately because it flew in his mouth, but Madame Hooch declared Gryffindor's victory valid.
After the game, the Gryffindor team changed out of their kits and declared a celebration to be held in Gryffindor Tower that night. Harry told Wood and the others he would join them later and caught up with Ron and Hermione. Harry's friends informed him of what they had seen and done, how Snape had been muttering while he stared at Harry, and Quirrell seemed very invested in the spectacle without a trace of nervousness. This confirmed to Harry that Snape and Quirrell either had to be working together or at least had a common goal. Harry's defeat of the Troll made him a threat, so either had to eliminate him.
The three friends were invited to have tea with Hagrid after the game, which they accepted. Hagrid beamed with pride at Harry's victory, gushing at how his Birth Father would be proud of his great skill on a broom. When they had a moment to speak, during Hagrid's joyous rant, they informed him of their suspicions concerning Snape and Quirrell. Hagrid listened to their theories and concerns but shook his head.
"Rubbish, why would either Snape or Quirrell be trying te kill 'Arry?" he offered some fresh rock cakes, which only Harry partook in.
"Because one of them let the Troll in as a distraction on Halloween. It said it found itself in Hogwarts against its will, so someone had to have charmed it before bringing it here. Snape's The Cerberus damaged Snape's leg on the Third Floor, so either he brought in the Troll to cover his tracks or ordered Quirrell to do it while he went after what the dog was guarding." Hagrid nearly dropped his teapot in shock when Harry mentioned the giant demon dog.
"How'd ye know abou' Fluffy?" He exclaimed. Ron snorted in his tea, incredulous that the massive monster was named, of all things, Fluffy.
"Yeah, Fluffy, 'e's mine! I got him from a Greek feller I met in t'pub las' year." Harry complimented Hagrid on Fluffy, saying he was a magnificent creature. Hagrid beamed with pride at Harry's compliment and told them he'd raised Fluffy from a pup. The massive demon dog grew exceptionally fast but learned to obey Hagrid's every command. Hagrid continued to talk about his mighty pet.
"Then I lent 'em te Dumbledore, ter guard the, the uh…" Hagrid stammered and stopped talking.
"Doesn' matter. It's got nothing te do with yeh three; it's top secret!"
"But Snape and Quirrell are trying to steal it!" Ron protested. Hagrid just shook his head, refusing to consider whether either of his colleagues could be plotting to do anything against Dumbledore's orders.
"Hagrid, I know a jinx when I see one! You've got to keep eye contact when you're casting a spell, and Snape and Quirrell never took their eyes off Harry for a moment; they didn't even blink!" Hermione insisted. Hagrid refused to listen, insisting that there had to be another reason for Harry's broom to act up, that it might have been faulty, and as to why Snape and Quirrell were staring at Harry, everybody in the stands was staring at him, not daring to look away, let alone blink.
"Now listen to me, all three of yeh; yer meddlin' in things that don' concern ye! It's dangerous! What Fluffy's guarding's strictly between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamell!"
"Nicholas Flamell?" Hermoine asked. Hagrid turned pink behind his beard, very embarrassed at having slipped up. He ushered the three out of his hut and told them to keep quiet about what they had learned.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the castle, discussing what they had learned. Snape or Quirrell had bewitched a Troll and used it as a distraction to get to the Third Floor, only for Snape to get bitten by Fluffy. Then, one or both cursed Harry's broom to try to kill him. The closely guarded object concerned Dumbledore, and someone called Nicholas Flamell. Harry thought that name sounded very familiar but couldn't place it.
The three returned to Gryffindor Tower, where the party was in full swing. Fred and George hoisted Harry up on their shoulders and carried him around as the rest of the Gryffindors cheered and praised his name. A buffet of food and drink was brought up from the kitchens. Harry and his friends put aside their theories and concerns to celebrate with their Housemates.
The party went on long into the night until, at last, Harry and Ron retired, exhausted, their bellies full, and went to bed. Harry wrote to his family about his first Quidditch match, leaving out how his broom tried to kill him and how he thought one or more teachers were responsible. He did write a letter detailing these items to Wednesday. She had written in response to his letter detailing the encounter with Fluffy, the break-in at Gringotts, and the Troll's attack.
Whatever item was hidden in the school had to be an artifact of significant power and value, possibly an ancient relic. Cerberus was specially bred to guard such treasures. If either Snape or Quirrell were after it, they would stop at nothing to get it. Trolls may be brutal creatures, but they are simple-minded, and a powerful Wizard could easily manipulate one. As Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Quirrell would know such magic, as would Snape if he had tried to get Quirrell's position before. From how Harry described Quirrell, it seemed like Snape was in charge and was using Quirrell's knowledge and skills to get the relic.
Harry wrote how Snape had been staring at him intently, chanting the whole time. Quirrell had been staring, too, but Hermione said he'd been silent. Either Quirrell was watching closely to ensure Harry died, or he had been casting his spells wordlessly. He then wrote how the relic involved Dumbledore and another man named Nicholas Flamell, a familiar name to Harry, but he wasn't sure how. He asked Wednesday to look up any mention of such a figure in her school's library and how he could relate to the events.
When the letters were finished, he gave them to Hedwig and sent her off into the night. He lay in bed and slowly drifted to sleep, pondering how he knew Nicholas Flamel.