Chapter 5, everybody! In which Quidditch is played and Hermione sets people on fire….And why does Word recognized "Quidditch" but FFN not?...

Finished Chapter 4 of my dissertation except for some light editing, so I'm posting a chapter to celebrate. :D

Thanks for the review, guest! Ah, thank you—we're going to be getting some more of that interaction this chapter as well. :D

Harry Potter © JK Rowling

November was the start of the Quidditch season and signaled the arrival of Harry's first game as seeker for the Gryffindor team. Harry had been practicing with the team three times a week, something which left him little time to go hunting in the library for information about Snips.

Hermione, however, was more than willing to pick up the slack there, having relaxed a bit about breaking the rules and a lot about Snips. It was entertaining, however, to find that the library—which had to be Hermione's favorite place in the castle—was not helping her any more than it had the boys. Snips remained a mystery.

Snips also extended his homework editing to Hermione, surprising Ron and Harry by reading through her homework and then crossing out several lines all the way through. Harry had to quickly explain that Snips would often cross out lines in their homework that wasn't right, but said quite honestly that he had no idea why Snips would do the same to Hermione's work, since she had such high grades.

In response, Snips had stopped, pointed at the homework, made a circular motion with one wing-claw-hand, paused before repeating the motion again and again.

"Repetitive," Ron said, having become very good at guessing Snips' charades. Snips pointed at him in approval and apparently decided that Ron would be rewarded by having his homework graded next.

Harry had also asked Snips to sit with Hermione on their next Potions class, to settle the matter of if having Snips help was cheating or not; neither Hermione nor Snips looked thrilled by this, but they eventually agreed.

"You have to write down what Snips does and let us copy it though," Ron pointed out before they headed to Potions. "That's the rule."

Hermione rolled her eyes but agreed, heading into the classroom with Snips hidden in her bushy hair.

Snips going with Hermione turned out to have a surprise benefit, however—they had all been paired off to work together on a boil-curing potion, and she had been paired off with Neville, who was quickly gaining a reputation of being a bit of a disaster magnet. Harry—paired off with Ron and at the table behind Hermione and Neville—saw that Snips was quick to snap his tail at Neville and stop him from some potential blunders, for which Harry was certain Neville would be grateful for.

Slughorn had also approved of their end work, although not because he had learned of Snips.

"Wonderful work you two," he had told Hermione and Neville at the end of class. "Should pair off the top students with those that need assistance next week, yes I should."

Neville had been relieved as they left class, while Hermione had been somewhat mollified, and spent most of lunch—while Harry and Ron busily copied down her notations—quizzing Snips on the class and trying to determine what he was saying.

"What would have happened if we had added the porcupine quills before taking the potion off the fire?" Hermione asked, Neville nodding.

Snips, who was currently sitting on the table between her and Ron, gave that some consideration before putting his wings together then out, flopping backwards with his wings splayed out.

"That bad," Ron observed.

Hermione nodded, not noting how pale Neville had gotten. "Potions are very delicate—every book I've read says that you have to be very careful with brewing, otherwise things can go terribly wrong."

"How did anyone ever come up with new potions, then?" Harry asked, honestly confused on the matter.

"Well, obviously they knew what they were doing well enough to experiment, and I'm sure there are spells and potions that could neutralize any ill effects—"

Snips made a crr noise, crossed over to Harry's potions book and started flipping through the pages.

"I wasn't finished with that," Harry pointed out, earning him a dismissive noise from Snips. Harry opted to just watch and wait, figuring Snips would find what he was looking for eventually.

He did—Snips stopped on a page and started tapping a section, looking up at them all expectantly, beak swiveling to fix each one of them with his beady eyes.

"'Bezoar,'" Harry read, leaning to look at what Snips was pointing at. "'Found in the stomach of a goat and acts as a cure for most poisons.'"

"See?" Hermione asked. "That would work—"

"But who figured it out first?"

"Got a point," Ron said, finishing up his own copying and reaching for the steak and kidney pie. "What bloke found a rock in a goat stomach and said I have a whole goat here, but I think I'll eat this rock instead?"

Which started a whole discussion on who, exactly, started potioneering and why. Snips, meanwhile, had apparently decided that he was done and was close enough to Harry to climb up his arm and reach his usual spot to settle in.

The discussion finally ended with Hermione dashing off to the library to get to the bottom of the burning question she now had, and they didn't see her again until dinner. Which, Ron pointed out, was probably because Madame Pince told her to get something to eat before she collapsed.

Harry did not doubt this.

"But we've established," Ron said to Hermione. "That having Snips' help is not cheating."

Hermione gave a minor head-wobble. "I suppose he's good to have in the classroom."

Harry and Ron were more than willing to count that as a win.

The morning of Harry's first Quidditch match, Harry woke early and with a feeling not unlike a dozen ice-cold snakes squirming in his stomach. He was queasy and nervous and worried he'd either die horribly or make a complete fool of himself, neither of which seemed an improvement over the other.

He laid there for quite some time, staring at the canopy of his four-poster before Snips leaned into view, making a worried noise.

"I'm fine," Harry told him, earning a snip on his chin. "Ow—fine, I feel like I'm going to throw up."

Snips seemed to accept that, instead moving on to his usual nip-nip-nip that was get up you're going to be late!

Harry's nerves hadn't vanished by breakfast, either.

"Harry, you've got to eat something!" Hermione stressed, as Snips finally gave up on trying to get Harry to eat from his shoulder and climbed down to the table, holding up a sausage.

"I'm not hungry," Harry mumbled.

"At least some toast."

Snips put down the sausage and dragged over a slice of toast.

"I'm still not hungry."

Snips bit him on the hand, pointed at him and then the toast.

"Eat, Harry," Hermione insisted.

"You're going to throw up anyway," Ron reasoned. "Might as well have something in there so it's not dry heaves."

"Ron!"

Harry did manage to eat half a slice of toast though, although it didn't help much. He left Snips with Ron and Hermione as they parted ways, stomach still churning as he got dressed in his uniform and listened to Wood's pep-talk.

Things improved though the moment they were in the air—Harry was back in his element, flying free and grinning at the banner his friends had made.

Now to find the Snitch.

Snips was on Hermione's shoulder and tucked under her hair, after establishing that Ron and Hagrid were much too mobile and loud, although Dean Thomas was definitely taking the cake as far as cheering wildly was concerned. Hermione didn't mind, since Snips was being very well-behaved, beak tilted up and following Harry as he flew all over in his search for the Snitch.

And then yipping in alarm as Harry's broom started bucking.

Everyone was yelling in alarm, trying to figure out what was going on—

"Ow!" Hermione yelped, looking down at Snips—

Who pointed across the way at the teachers' stands.

Hermione put her binoculars to her eyes, scanned where he was pointing—

Professor Quirrell—he was looking right at Harry, eyes fixed, not blinking, continually muttering under his breath.

"Professor Quirrell is jinxing Harry's broom!" Hermione yelped, whipping her binoculars into Neville's chest. "I have to do something—I'll be right back!"

She ran for the steps, Snips launching himself off her shoulder as she ran—hopefully to Ron.

But no time for that now.

Fred, like most of the rest of the pitch, was watching Harry hang on for dear life with growing horror, flying with George beneath Harry in case he fell—come on, a brand-spanking-new Nimbus Two Thousand shouldn't be doing this—

He caught something out of the corner of his eye, looked to see Snips flapping frantically as he made his way across the pitch.

Fred wondered briefly what the little vegetable-pusher was doing, dismissed that thought quickly and sprang into action when he saw a bludger on a trajectory course for Snips—by the time he bashed it away, Snips was almost across the field, flapping up before arrowing down and landing full on Professor Quirrell's face.

"Woo!" Fred cheered. "Go veggie-pusher!"

And then someone on the field yelled, and Fred spun around just in time to see Harry heading for the ground.

Hermione had reached the teachers' stands just as Snips dove—realized from the shrieks and her view of the field that she'd still have to do something—

She whipped out her wand and cast a spell she had used earlier that week, sending bright blue flames onto Professor Quirrell's robes and prompting the man to flail more vigorously than he had been—Snips hit the floorboards with a squeak, and Hermione snatched him up and ran before anyone thought to look.

She was a few flights down when Snips got enough wind back to start yipping, pointing out an open window—

Harry was diving for the ground.

Hermione had a fit of panic, squeezing Snips so hard he started squeaking—

But Harry was back in control of the broom, stumbling off of it and putting his fists to his stomach in a self-Heimlich—

And spitting out the Snitch.

Hermione sighed with relief, collapsing on the steps and hugging Snips to her chest, much to the latter's consternation.

That could have ended very, very badly.

The common room was wall-to-wall noise, enough that it made Snips yip in alarm, but not enough that Harry was able to put him in his dorm and leave him there to calm down—Snips had, upon seeing Harry again, dove straight for his usual spot and refused to budge no matter how much the team tossed him into the air, ending with Harry having quite a few nicks on his neck from Snips hanging on for dear life.

But eventually, Fred and George pinned him between them during a lull in the congratulations.

"So, Harry, mind telling us what the little veggie-pusher was doing flying across the field?" Fred asked.

"Do what?" Harry asked blankly.

"Snips was going for Professor Quirrell while your broom was acting up."

"It was because Professor Quirrell was jinxing Harry's broom," Hermione said. "Snips spotted him first and pointed him out—it had to be him, because as soon as we stopped him Harry's broom straightened up."

Everyone within earshot fell silent.

"Wow, Harry," George said finally. "And I thought we bugged the teachers—we've never had one so mad at us they wanted to kill us."

Which concerned Harry deeply.