Harry's First Game
November had started at and with it as had the cold. Hagrid could be seen defrosting broomsticks for Quidditch season each day. Harry's new position on the team had, surprisingly, remained a secret. Snape had tried to drop hints on it to the Slytherin students, but the Fred and George, and their friend Lee, had made it a game off walking pass, loudly talking about how they were, “Oh, so disappointed the their new 6th year seeker hadn't joined the team earlier.”
No one had seen Harry play yet, but all of Gryffindor seemed sure that he'd do great. Hermione, who had joined Ron and Harry in some sort of trio, had been trying to help Harry better prepare himself. It did help a bit but she was more helpful with his homework because Wood was stretching him thin with all the practice. The day before the match found the three of them with their backs to a jam jar with a blue flame in it to keep warm in the courtyard, Harry reading Quidditch Through the Ages, when Snape came limping towards them across the yard, mad at Harry for bringing the book outside. The man took it from him, much to his dismay.
That evening Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's charm homework for them. It was helpful because Harry just couldn't stand sitting still to do homework and Ron kept picking up on his restlessness and focusing on that instead of his work. The fact that he would rather be reading Quidditch Through the Ages to keep his mind off of his nerves about tomorrow only made his restlessness worse.
Sighing, he got up, “I'm going to see if I can get that book back from Snape,” he said in lieu of a goodbye.
“Better you than me,” his friends said in tandem, but Harry had a feeling he'd be more likely to give in back if Harry asked him in front of the other teachers.
Harry left the common room and made his way down to the staff room and knocked. But, after knocking a few times he chose to push the door slightly ajar and peer inside to try and see if Snape had left the book in there. A disturbing sight greeted him, Snape and Filch were alone and Snape was holding his robes above his knees, which would've been traumatizing enough without the mangled, bloody mess of one of his legs. Filch was handing him bandages.
“Blasted thing,” Snape said as he wrapped his leg, “how are you supposed to keep an eye on all three of its heads at once?” Harry tried to close the door quietly, but both of the staff members were some of the best at catching trouble makers.
“POTTER!” Snape's face contorted with fury, and he dropped his robes to cover his leg. Harry gulped.
“I was wondering if I could have my book back.”
“GET OUT! OUT!”
Harry sprinted back up to the tower before escape could take anymore points from Gryffindor.
“Did you get it?” Ron asked as Harry rejoined his friends.
“No.” Hermione turned her attention back to checking Ron's grammar but Ron squinted at Harry's semi-distant look.
“What's wrong Harry,” George threw himself down next to Harry on the couch, directly into Ron's personal space. George shifted over as Fred joined them, Harry moving with him and smothering a laugh as Fred pulled Ron halfway onto his lap and started messing with his hair.
“So,” Fred started, but refocused on the squirming 11 year-old in his lap. “Where were you coming from in such a hurry?” George finished the question for his twin.
“The staff room,” Harry told the boys who were quickly becoming like his older brothers, “I was going to get a book back, but..” Harry trailed off.
“But what?” Fred asked, and Ron stilled, letting his brother continue to play with his hair absent-mindedly to listen to Harry. Hermione also stopped what she was doing.
“Snape was wrapping up his leg injury, and mentioned a three headed beast doing it to him.”
Hermione gasped and Ron shot up from where he was laying down, almost hitting Fred's chin, “That's where he was going on Halloween!” Hermione shushed him and Fred resumed his playful attack, but George was thinking, and Harry asked him, “Do you think he let the troll in?”
“Maybe, but for whatever reason he used it as a distraction,” George answered quietly, “He was likely after whatever the cerberus was hiding.”
“Cerberus?” Hermione questioned.
“That's what the dog is, we wrote to Charlie abou-” Fred was cut off as Ron bit him, and the two boys were soon wrestling on the floor. George looked at them in a mischievously fond way and turned back to Harry and Hermione, “We'll talk to Percy about it, just try to focus on something else for now. Once we figure it out a bit more we'll get back to you.”
Harry tried, but it was hard to get to sleep that night.
The next morning was bright and cold, the Great Hall was full of delicious smells and good food. Harry was having trouble eating and Seamus's comment about seekers being the ones that always get hit didn't help.
By eleven o'clock the entire school seemed to be in the stands. The Gryffindors had all taken places around the stands, the first years were all standing together with a banner they hadn't opened up yet that read “Potter for President.”
In the locker room, Harry and the team were changing into their Quidditch robes. Wood cleared his throat for silence.
“Okay, men,” he said.
“And women,” said Chaser Angelina Johnson.
“And women,” Wood agreed. “This is it.”
“The big one,” said Fred. “The one we've all been waiting for,” said George.
“We know Oliver's speech by heart,” Fred told Harry.
“Shut up, you two,” Wood grumbled. “This is our best team in years, we're going to win. I know it.”
The loud cheers and sound of surprise almost knocked Harry over as he walked out onto the field, but the banners and signs made by his housemates made him feel a bit braver. The game began, the twins’ friend Lee Jordan commentating.
Hagrid joined the 1st year Gryffindors in the stands. “Bin watching from me hut,” he said, “But it isn't the same as being in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?”
“Nope,” Ron said, “Harry hasn't done much yet.”
“Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin’,” Hagrid claimed as he peered up at Harry with his binoculars.
It was shortly after that the snitch was seen and Harry dove after it, but Marcus Flint blocked him, much to the anger of the entire house of Gryffindor. But their rage did very little, the game began again and things were once again going somewhat well. And then Harry's broom bucked, twitched, jerked, and carried him higher. His friends were trying to figure out what had happened, and a comment made by Hagrid had Hermione grabbing at his binoculars and searching the crowd.
“What are you doing,” hissed Ron. She gripped his arm in an iron grip and shoved the binoculars into his hands.
“Look, Snape's doing something to Harry's broom,” she told him.
“What should we do?” Dean asked, leaning in.
“Leave it to me.”
She was gone before anyone could do anything and Ron turned his attention back to Harry as his brother tried to pull him onto one of their brooms, but it did no good. They dropped a bit in hopes to catch Harry if he fell. During that time the game continued.
“Come on, Hermione,” Ron pleaded desperately.
Hermione had forced her way across the stands to where Snape was, standing in the row behind him. She didn't even apologize to Professor Quirrell when she knocked him over in her haste. She crouched and summoned a little blue flame that clung to Snape's robes. When she heard the yelp Snape gave when he noticed she scooped the small flame into a little jar in her pocket. She scurried away as Harry's broom finally let him crawl back on and he made his way towards the ground, hand clamped over his mouth.
“Neville, you can look!” Ron said, prying the boy off of Hagrid. Harry hit the field on all fours, coughing, and something gold fell out of his mouth.
“I’ve got the snitch!” Harry shouted, waving it above his head. There were cries of excitement, congratulation, and outrage, but Harry didn’t hear any of it because he was being served a strong cup of black tea in Hagrid’s hut, along with Ron and Hermione.
“It was Snape,” Ron explained, “Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.”
“Rubbish,” said Hagrid, who hadn’t heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands, “Why would Snape do somethin’ like that.”
Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other and Harry chose to give Hagrid a simplified version of the truth, “He got injured trying to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween, me and Ron saw him going towards it.”
“How do you know about Fluffy?” Hagrid asked
“Fluffy?”
“Yeah, he’s mine, bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year, lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-” Hagrid caught himself, “Now, don’t ask me anymore, an’ don’t go thinking Professor Snape would do anythin’ like messin’ with Harry's broom.”
“But Hagrid-” Hagrid cut Hermione off, “Don't go meddlin’ in things that don’t concern you, it’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Famel-”
Hagrid escorted them out looking very mad at himself.
…….
Percy was waiting at the Cellar entrance for the troublesome trio that was his brother and his two friends, Dean Thomas had told him what happened, and the fact that a teacher had actively tried to kill one of his dragons terrified him, He had half a mind to stop Gryffindors from going to Snape’s class, if he could bring himself to harm one lion there was no telling what else he could bring himself to do to others. The kids came bounding in.
“Percy we found something out about the do-” Percy pulled Ron into his chest, effectively shushing him. He then checked on Hermione and Harry, thankfully Harry only had bruises and maybe some pulled mussels.
“Oh thank Merlin, you’re okay.”
“I’m okay, but we need to tell you something,” Harry blurted out.
“Ah ah, I won’t hear a word of it until those bruises are taken care of. Someone around here has the-” Percy looked around,” Neville has it. You go over and use the Bruisewort Balm and then we’ll talk.”
Percy watched as the trio joined the rest of their yearmates. Neville fretted over Harry, and Percy vaguely remembered that their parents were close. The girls and Seamus started questioning Hermione about her fire spell and Dean asked about Snape. Ron must have said something funny-ish because Dean broke down laughing and Lavender Brown rolled her eyes at him.
Seeing that the objects of his worry were perfectly safe with their fellow lions, Percy looked over at the older housemates that had chosen to drink. Percy had told himself that he wouldn’t drink this year, even if he was allowed to, because he has his OWLS, but a small cup was probably necessary to keep him from straight up attacking Snape. That was where the kids found him, pouring his first beer, he poured them some pumpkin juice and they sat down. He didn’t touch his drink while they talked, just listened to them explain what they learned.
“The cerberus’s name is Fluffy?”
“Yup,” Ron snickered.
Percy sighed, “And you’re sure Hagrid said Nicholas Flamel.”
“A hundred percent,” Hermione said, nodding.
“Okay, I’ll see what I can figure out about him, it should be interesting. How about you guys go enjoy the celebration.”
Percy pinched the bridge of his nose as they walked off and finally took a sip of his drink. What in the world is going on?