#jordan and sausage on the same team is going to be HORRIBLE

[syn4k]

hey i know everyone's excited about mcc pink parrots but can we please just pause for a moment and talk about aqua axolotls. This is going to be a homosexual trainwreck of a team i can already tell

i might actually watch mcc for once in my life because of this because like. i need to witness this

[braveclementine]

Chapter 8

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.❤️.

𝕴 𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖍𝖆𝖉 three friends: Hermione, Harry, and Ronald who I now called Ron. We studied together, ate together, and visited Hagrid together. We worked together in Herbology (unless I worked alone). Ron and I had a mutual polite friendship. I still hadn't forgiven him for his harsh words with Hermione, though I knew in the end they were going to be great friends.

Once it started getting colder, Quidditch season started. Hagrid was defrosting brooms every morning and if I didn't have a class, I would bundle myself up in my jacket and boots, and brave the cold to help him. It wasn't easy work, but I felt satisfied every time that I set a defrosted broom aside. At least, until my fingers started to go numb.

I started going into the forest, speaking and learning with the centaurs, only once a week now. It was just to cold for me to go more than once.

One of the good things about having Harry and Ron as friends was that there was more laughter now. With Hermione, it was mostly studying, though I would make a few jokes, but Ron loved to make jokes, and it made my life a bit more delightful.

Three other friends that I really hadn't expected to make were Fred and George Weasley, and Lee Jordan. They wanted to know if I was smarter than Hermione, and as a challenge, they would give me a random spell they were learning in the third year, and see if I could do it. Nine times out of ten I was able to do it- after a couple of tries. If I couldn't do it, I practiced it on the side and when I finally mastered it, I would show them.

Fred and George were also on the Quidditch team and sometimes they invited me to come down after their practices, and we would race on the brooms. I loved flying, probably something I had gotten from James side of the genes, considering he had been a seeker.

My extra tutoring with Professor Flitwick was helping me learn more in class, and soon I was even ahead of Hermione. Even though I knew there wasn't really a competition, I wasn't really competing against Hermione, I had this rushing feeling that I had to know everything. And with Fred, George, and Lee's challenges, I was moving farther ahead than everyone. At least in Transfiguration and Charms.

All in all, everything was going very well. Well, except for Astronomy. I wasn't doing horribly, just an EE instead of an O grade. But that was a sore in my thumb. I hated not having all O's. I supposed I'd just have to work harder.

Everyone was getting excited for the first Quidditch game of the season. I was hyped as well. It had been leaked- though I'd known long before- that Harry was the new Gryffindor Seeker. There were mixed opinions about this new conundrum.

At the same time, I was very worried about the upcoming match because of a concerning vision that I had seen part of. I was foreseeing the broomstick that Harry was riding trying to chuck him off. Sure, in my vision Harry managed to stay on until the broom stabilized, but still, there was always the off chance that my vision wasn't right, right?

The morning of the Quidditch match, I left the Hufflepuff table to sit with the Gryffindors.

"You've got to eat some breakfast." I said to Harry, sliding him over a plate of bacon as I sat down. He just looked at it. He looked like he was going to be sick.

"I don't want anything." He said, putting his hand on the plate like he was going to push it away but didn't.

"Just a bit of toast." Hermione tried to persuade him next.

"I'm not hungry." Harry said.

"Harry you need you're strength. Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team." Seamus said, plopping ketchup on his sausages. I wrinkled my nose. What horrible taste buds.

"Thanks Seamus." Harry said dejectedly, but I laughed, hoping Harry would lighten up with humor. I grabbed my own plate of eggs and sausage and ate in front of Harry, telling him all the while about what he was missing out on. He finally choked down some toast and I felt that I had done a good job with it.

Harry soon left after to join the team. Fred walked by with George and Oliver Wood. He looked over and winked at me. I rolled my eyes and shouted, "good luck." to them. They didn't need it, they were gong to win. Of that much I was sure.

Hermione, Ron, Seamus, Neville, Dean, and I all walked out to the Quidditch stands. We were up nearly 300 feet in the air, probably higher. We sat on a wooden bench, clutching our scarves and hats around us to keep warm. My yellow and black Hufflepuff colors stood out among the gold and scarlet of Gryffindor.

I watched the players walk out onto the field. Madam Hooch was talking to them and I watched Oliver shake hands with Marcus Flint. Oliver was handsome, whereas Marcus looked a bit like a troll. Actually, thinking about it, he looked like someone that I'd known in elementary school. I think his name had been Michael or something like that.

They mounted their brooms and Madam Hooch tossed the Quaffle in the air, starting the game. The minute Angelina Johnson took the ball, Lee was jabbering away into his magical microphone in the commentator's/teacher's box.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too- "

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor." Jordan said dismissively. I giggled. I loved Jordan's commentary. It was good to have humor in such a fierce, tense, competitive sport.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve- back to Johnson and- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes- Flint flying like an eagle up there- he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and- OUCH- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which-nice play by the Gryffindor Beater anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes-"

Suddenly Lee's voice seemed to disappear and a different voice came into my head. "Keep an eye on Quirrell, won't you Severus?"

I gave a start, hearing the words in my head. It was Dumbledore's voice. I wasn't exactly sure who he was talking to, but I looked over at the teacher's stands. They were all too far away to make out if Quirrell was doing anything or not.

Who was Severus? It had to be the first name of one of the teachers. I thought about the name long and hard, trying to put a face to the name. Hadn't Dad mentioned the name Severus in one of his letters to me?

Ron and Hermione's voices broke my thought process, "Hagrid!"

I glanced up and smiled at Hagrid who was trying to sit down on the small benches. I scooted over, bumping into Dean, and Hermione also scooted over, closer to me. Ron scooted the other way so Hagrid was between the two of them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," Hagrid said, patting a large pair of binoculars. "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the snitch yet, eh?"

Ron went to answer him and I tapped Hagrid on the arm, "Can I borrow the binoculars for a moment?"

He handed them to me and I looked over at the teachers stands. Snape looked tense and bored at the same time. His black hair curtained his face so that he had a good view of Quirrell out of the corner of his eye. He was the one whose first name was Severus. Severus. Severus Snape. I smiled, it had a nice ring to it. Then, I got back to business.

McGonagall was sitting closely to Lee in case she ever needed to grab the mic out of his hands. Quirrell looked nervous, his eyes darting around. Dumbledore wasn't even in the stands so I wasn't entirely sure if he was even talking about now or later. Or for what. Why did someone- Professor Snape- need to keep an eye on Quirrell? Did Dumbledore suspect Quirrell had gone after the stone? If so, why hadn't he done anything about it? What did Dumbledore know?

"Slytherin in possession," Lee continued, "Chaser Pucey ducks two bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the- wait a moment- was that the snitch?"

Adrian dropped the Quaffle, distracted by the flash of gold that flitted past his ear. Harry must've seen it as well because he dived down after it. The Slytherin chaser, I forget his name, chased after the snitch as well. I clutched Hermione's arm as Harry gained on the snitch until-

WHAM! I yelled out with the rest of the Gryffindors in rage as Marcus Flint flew in front of Harry's broom. Harry smashed into him, and his broom spun off course. I could tell Harry was holding on for dear life. Or maybe I could just feel it.

"Foul!" The Gryffindors around me were screaming.

Madam Hooch was speaking very angrily with Flint but I looked away, distracted by Dean Thomas who was shouting, "Send him off ref! Red Card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" Ron asked, confused though I knew exactly what Dean was talking about.

"Red card!" Dean spit out furiously, waving his hands like a maniac. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game."

"But this isn't soccer, Dean!" Ron said, exasperated. Ron had a point too. After all, this was Quidditch. The player's could get away with murder and they'd still be on the team- at least until after the game was over. You couldn't just have the players off the team (unless, you know, the games went on for longer than a day). Hagrid started arguing for Dean's side, but I listened in to Lee instead.

"So- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall growled.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

I couldn't help but laugh at Lee and Professor McGonagall, even though I knew something even worse was coming up for Harry. I kept darting my eyes upward, trying to see when it would happen. Somehow, I knew that I would know before it happened.

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor in possession." Lee says sarcastically and I grin, though I kept my laughs in this time.

I kept my eyes on Harry now, the minute he was going to dodge that bludger. . . and he dodged the bludger. I tightened my grip on Hermione's arm. He looked like he was doing Muggle bull riding, just on a really skinny bull. It kept bouncing him up and down. Looking through the binoculars, I saw his knuckles were white from gripping it so hard.

Hagrid grabbed the binoculars from my hands and looked through them, pointed up towards Harry. "Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing. If I didn't know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom. . .but he can't have. . ."

I took the binoculars back and watched as his broom started doing barrel rolls, over and over until finally, Harry fell, hanging from the broom with only one hand.

"Did something happen when Flint block him?" Seamus asked in a loud whisper.

"Really need to work on your whispering skills Seamus." I retorted out of the side of my mouth.

"Can't have. Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand." Hagrid said, his voice shaken.

Hermione grabbed the binoculars from my hands and I gritted my teeth. Didn't anyone understand that there was this word called 'please'?

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, looking very gray-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape-look."

Ron looked through the binoculars and passed them back to Hermione who handed them back to me. I pressed them quickly to my eyes and looked at the teachers stands. Snape was muttering under his breath, his eyes locked on Harry's broom. I moved the binoculars up where Quirrell was also sitting, in the same pose as Snape. His eyes, locked on Harry and his mouth moving. Obviously, he wasn't stuttering.

"He's doing something- jinxing the broom." Hermione said, apparently not having noticed Quirrell.

"What should we do?" Ron moaned.

"Leave it to me." Hermione said, squirming her way past people in their seats.

Fred and George were now circling below Harry, hoping to catch him if he fell as every time they'd tried to get up to him, his broom had flown higher into the air. Flint grabbed the Quaffle, scoring five times, but no one seemed to have noticed, everyone's eyes fixed on Harry's.

Why weren't the Professors doing anything? Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra. Why did none of them try anything? Only Professor Snape was doing something and he obviously was fighting Quirrell's curse. But still, why wasn't an adult doing anything? Why was it in mine and Hermione's hands? We were eleven years old! Blimey the way Wizarding school works!

I found myself following Hermione, and we ran down the steps, and then through the inner-workings of the stands. There was some uneven pathways and holes, and we had to maneuver ourselves through it quickly. Not to mention ducking under the beams that held up the stands. I really hoped they were magically reinforced because they looked rather unstable.

"Hermione!" I called after her. She just quickened her pace, and I couldn't say a word about it possibly being Quirrell, because I was gasping for breath as we ran, sprinting towards the other end where the teachers stands were.

Finally, we were under the teacher stands, directly below Snape. Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at Snape's robes. Blue flames leaped upon his clothing and I jumped back. I pointed my wand up towards Quirrell's robes, and lit them on fire while she wasn't watching.

I heard Quirrell yelp and Hermione was scooping the blue flames off of Snape's robes into a jar and then scooped the flames off Quirrell, shooting me an annoyed look. I stuck my tongue out at her behind her back. I had to cover all the bases and really, I could've scooped the fire up myself!

We hurried back to where we had been sitting before, this time I was in the lead. Hermione and I stopped, looking up to see if our job had worked out.

Harry was racing down towards the Quidditch pitch and then he pulled up into a clean straight wave. Jumping to his feet, he rode the broom like a surf-board reaching out for the golden-snitch. He moved his foot the wrong way and he fell forward, tumbling forward and doing multiple somersaults on the ground.

He swallowed the snitch, I thought calmly as the crowd gasped in horror and shock.

He had tumbled forward to where he was now sitting up. He held his hands in front of his mouth. Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth. I watched, amused, as he coughed up the golden snitch, waving it around, and getting to his feet.

Gryffindor had won one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were in Hagrid's hut where Hagrid was making tea, bustling around his tiny kitchen pulling out mugs and a kettle.

"It was Snape." Ron said to Harry, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish." Hagrid said, and I privately agreed with him. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I looked at each other. I knew, of course, Harry's theory about Snape trying to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween night. I, of course, knowing that Snape had actually stopped Quirrell from doing so, kept silent. I wasn't about to tell them since I knew (somehow for some reason) that they shouldn't know yet.

"I found out something about him. He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding." Harry said, after exchanging a look with Ron and Hermione.

Hagrid dropped the teapot. It smashed into bits on the floor, sending blue and black pottery pieces everywhere. I leapt up and pointed my wand at it. "Reparo."

"How do you know about Fluffy?" Hagrid asked, not bothering to pick up the tea pot. I levitated it back onto the table and then picked it up, and went to the sink to fill it back up with hot water. I stuck another tea bag into it, disposing of the tea bag that Fang was sniffing on the floor.

"Fluffy?" Ron asked, sounding revolted.

"That thing has a name?" Hermione squealed.

I set the kettle down to boil. I kept my face, facing away from them. There were multiple flashes happening in my mind again and I squeezed my eyes shut as a burning pain echoed in the place where my locket was set against my skin. Harry looking in the mirror, seeing our family. The red stone again. A dead unicorn. Firenze the centaur, carrying Harry on his back. (Oh, the centaurs weren't going to be happy about that). The night sky, Mars was looking bright. (That was a bad sign).

"Yeah- he's mine- bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year- I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-" Hagrid broke off quickly and I pulled the kettle off the stove, filling the mugs with boiling tea.

"Yes?" Harry asked, obviously eager to find out what Hagrid was going to say. I knew it was the red stone. . . but what was the stone called? I couldn't just tell them it was a red stone. The red stone could be anything: A ruby, dragon stone, dragon glass. . . anything! Things we didn't even know the names to! I wondered if there was a book of red things around.

"Now, don't ask me anymore. That's top secret, that is." Hagrid said gruffly, quickly taking a sip out of his large mug.

"But Snape's trying to steal it!" Harry said, trying to sound convincing. But really, I thought, eager as I was for adventure, it really wasn't our business, was it?

"Rubbish. Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothing' of the sort." Hagrid said, brushing off Harry's concerns.

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione asked Hagrid defensively, "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him."

I interrupted before Hagrid could. "Quirrell also wasn't taking his eyes off Harry, Hermione. How do we know that it wasn't Quirrell?"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer both wrong!" Hagrid said before Hermione could answer me. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn try an' kill a student! Neither would Quirrell fer that matter. Now, listen to me, all four of yeh- yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicholas Flamel-"

"Aha! So there's someone called Nicholas Flamel involved, is there?" Harry said, smiling triumphantly.

I shook my head, turning away. Hagrid looked furious with himself.

⬅️➡️

[authormitchel-blog]

SS: Part 5

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake looked like chilled steel. The colder weather meant that Quidditch season had begun. Saturday would be the first game of the season: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

            It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione as a friend. He didn’t know how he’d have gotten through all his homework, without her, what with all of Flint’s last minute practice sessions. It didn’t matter that he hardly got off the ground or that the others barely acknowledged him. Flint told him that he wanted him to be there, that he maybe had a chance, so he was there. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Millicent strolled out for a walk the day before the game. Harry may only be a spectator, but there was something about the feel of the pitch. Hermione conjured a bright blue fire that could be carried in a jam jar to keep them warm. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry and Millie moved in front of the jar sure that it wouldn’t be allowed. He limped over. He hadn’t seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

            “What’s that you’ve got there, Potter?”

It was Quidditch Through the Ages, a book Hermione had showed him. Harry showed Snape the book.

            “Tsk, tsk, library books are not to be taken outside of the castle,” said Snape. “Give it to me.”

            “It’s his own copy,” Millicent covered quickly. “I got it for him.”

Snape looked at her, but Millicent stood even straighter.

            “Well then, Miss Bulstrode, nice to see you’re making friends.” Snape looked like friends was anything other than a positive word.

            “He’s just made that rule up,” Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away.

“What’s wrong with his leg?” Hermione asked.

            “I don’t know, but I hope it’s really hurting him,” said Ron angrily. Harry tucked the book into his bag, grateful to have it for a distraction from tomorrow.

  Harry had a feeling, and that usually meant that he was going to get into trouble. “Keep that look to yourself, Potter,” said Millicent. “The last time I saw that look Granger and I had to save you from a mountain troll.”

            Harry huffed, rolling to his side so he could see her better where she hanged upside down off the side of Blaise’s bed. Blaise sitting on the floor beside her.

            “You saw Snape’s leg, something happened.”

Millicent rolled her eyes.

            “You’re going to ask him to strip for you?” asked Blaise.

“I just want to see his leg, see what happened.”

            “You want to get expelled,” said Millicent. “You’d think you wanted to go back home.”

Millicent didn’t know the full extent of his time with the Dursley’s, but he had a feeling the Slytherins knew more than they let on. Harry slipped out of the room their eyes on his back.

            He slipped out of the common room then into the hall. He made his way down to the staffroom where he found the door ajar.

            He peered inside where a horrible scene met his eyes. Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

            “Blasted thing,” Snape was saying. “How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?”

            Harry tried to step away from the door quietly, but part of his leg nudged it. Both Snape and Filch turned toward the door at once. Snape’s face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg.

            Snape hobbled toward the door, and Harry dared not breathe. Filch moved to stand beside him.

            “Probably just Peeves,” said Filch. Snape didn’t look convinced, but he moved back into the room making sure to shut the door all the way this time.

            Harry left, moving as quick as he dared back to the common room. He had something to tell Millicent and Blaise.

            In a low whisper, Harry told them what he’d seen.

“You know what this means?” he finished breathlessly. “That’s where he was going when I saw him on Halloween, and I’d bet anything he’s the one who let the troll in as a distraction.”

            Millicent spoke up.

“He wouldn’t, Harry, I know Snape’s not your favorite Professor, but I don’t think he’d go against Dumbledore. He’s smarter than that.”

            “I agree,” said Blaise and Millicent gave him an “I told you so” look. “Unless,” said Blaise. “It was something really worth it.”

            But what, Harry wondered, would that be for Snape?

  The next morning dawned bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of friend sausages and cheerful chatter of those who were looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

            By eleven o’clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes. Harry had walked down with the rest of the Slytherin team. In the locker room, the team changed into their emerald Quidditch robes. Harry opted to wear his school robes, Slytherin green tie, and a scarf he borrowed from Blaise because he knew it might get a little chilly.

            His job was to hand towels to players, to fetch them water, and basically be the mule that carried whatever it was the players happened to have need of. Harry knew he was decent on a broom, but his team was stout. There was no way he was going to get play today. It didn’t matter though, Flint said that they were in for an easy win. Fred and George had told him about Gryffindor’s new seeker, but they wouldn’t be a match for Slytherin’s more experienced one.

            Harry followed the team out of the locker room his knees apparently having not got the message that he was just standing on the sidelines as they shook with each step he took. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in hand.

            “Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,” she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that Flint got the most of that message, but he seemed unperturbed as he stared hardly at the Gryffindor captain and fellow fifth year, Oliver Wood.

            “Mount your brooms, please,”

Harry clambered to the side of the field. He wouldn’t be on a broom, but he had a school one at his side just in case he needed to fly up to deliver something to a waiting player.

            Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her whistle, and fifteen brooms rose high and higher into the air. They were off.

            “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—“

            “JORDAN!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

            Lee Jordan with several asides from Professor McGonagall was giving the commentary. Flint looks good like he’s about to score when he’s blocked with a shot by Wood. A few more passes and the Gryffindors score.

            Cheers fill the air from the Gryffindors and their supporters. Even from the ground Harry was watching for the Snitch. The two seekers were doing nothing more than zooming up and above the rest of the action, but Harry’s eyes were peeled. He caught something flicker off one of the Weasley’s wristwatches, before one of them shot a Bludger straight at Marcus.

            Slytherin was in possession again. Adrian Pucey was flying through the Weasleys and the Chaser Bell straight towards the goal, but when Lee Jordan said something about the Snitch Pucey looked up at the flash of gold that passed his ear and promptly dropped the Quaffle.

            Harry saw it. And with a rush he saw his team’s seeker, Terrance Higgs see it as well. He zoomed after it slyly so that the Gryffindor seeker wouldn’t get suspicious. It didn’t work. Spotting Terrance moving toward the Snitch the unexperienced seeker moved toward him at full speed nearly toppling him in his inability to stop if it wasn’t for Flint moving in to take the brunt of the blow. Flint fell from his broom in a spectacular manner, the Chaser falling to the Earth faster than Harry could believe before Madam Hooch cast a charm that slowed Flints decent. Still, Flint hit the ground his body making several loud cracks that silenced the stadium. The game stopped as Wood went straight over to chastise his overzealous seeker, his eyes on Marcus as the boy was floated and carted toward where Harry was standing. Flint tried to sit up, but it was clear that part of his leg was bent in most unnatural way.

            The game was halted as Wood flew to the ground to stand beside Marcus as the Captains and Madam Hooch conferred.

            “You can’t play minus a player, Flint,” said Wood. “And you don’t have an alternate, and you simply cannot play with that leg even if Pomfrey came down right now. Just forget it and we can reschedule.”

            Harry thought that was good of Wood, but Madam Hooch quickly squashed that idea.

“Your team has already scored Wood, and so, the game cannot simply be waved away. If Mr. Flint cannot continue then that means that you win.”

       ��    “BUT!” the two captains said at the same time.

“But nothing, Mr. Wood, Mr. Flint, you two know the rules.”

            Wood looked sorry, but Marcus looked furious and defeated until he caught Harry’s gaze. Harry looked away quickly realizing that he had no business to be watching the exchange in the first place. He wasn’t even on the team.

            “Wait, Potter,”

“Yes, Mr. Flint,” Madam Hooch said patiently, looking at his head to see if maybe he had a head injury as well. “That is Harry Potter.”

            “No, Potter,”

“I think he means that Potter is his alternate?” said Wood looking to Marcus for confirmation.     

            “Yes, he knows how to fly, he knows the rules. He can play. Potter can play.”

Wood smiled.

            “Can you do it, Potter, think you could be a chaser?” said Wood.

Yeah, Harry thought, putting his hand out, and the broom automatically finding it’s way to his hand. He nodded.

            “Great,” said Wood at the same time Marcus said, “Don’t mess this up, Potter.”

By the time Harry was in the air, Pucey had gotten their penalty shot, and the score was tied. Harry had never played Chaser before, but he was sure that he could manage. Put the Quaffle through the hoop, don’t get slammed by a Bludger. Simple.

            Except, as Harry moved to dodge another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head his broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall too. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He hadn’t been flying for long, but he didn’t think a broom was supposed to do that.

            It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. Harry tried to turn back to the goalposts conscious that Marcus may not be watching, but that he wouldn’t be at all pleased if Harry somehow messed this up.

            It was when his broom stopped mid-air that he knew something was dangerously wrong. He couldn’t turn it. He couldn’t direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

            Someone was cheering, Harry didn’t know who. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry’s broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

            “What on Earth is he doing?” Millicent asked.

“Going for a stroll,” replied Malfoy, laughing with Crabbe and Goyle.

            “A violent stroll,” Pansy noted. “It looks like he’s lost control of his broom.”

Suddenly people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk, leaving Harry dangling off from it, holding on with only one hand.

            “Harry’s better than that, we all saw it,” said Millicent.

“What could be wrong? It would take strong magic to jinx his broom,” said Blaise.

            At these words, Millicent looked around, spotting Snape in the teacher’s section. She made a choice. Turning to Blaise, she whispered, “Snape.”

            Blaise turned that way inconspicuously. He had his eyes on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

            Blaise nodded. “What should we do?”

“We have to help him, he’d do the same for us,” said Millicent, prepared to tackle Snape to the ground if she had too.

The game had slowed to nothing as Pucey and Wood had moved closer to Harry, but every time they got close the broom would push Harry even higher.

            Higgs zoomed by them, hovering below Harry, but he could see his eyes were still peeled for the Snitch. Harry knew he was going to fall, and decided to do the only thing he could think of. He saw it the same time Higgs did. Letting go off his broom at the perfect moment he fell mouth open and screaming until he landed on the back of Terrance’s broom. The combined weight of the two boys pushed the broom closer to the ground, and Harry jumped rolling then stopping on the ground on all fours. He coughed and something cold fell into his hand.

            “I’ve got the Snitch!” he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion. Cheers and awes filled the stadium, but Harry heard none of it. Slytherin had won, Marcus was in the hospital, Higgs announced that after that scare he thought he would be safer on the ground and thus, was quitting the team, Harry was promoted to seeker by a happier than he’d ever seen him Marcus Flint, Malfoy was sour, and Blaise and Millicent had something very important to tell Harry.

            His broom hadn’t lost control on his own. It was Snape.

His head of house had tried to kill him.

            Harry had to go to the only adult who he knew he could trust.

“It was Snape,” Ron explained. “Hermione and I saw him, too. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn’t take his eyes off you. Hermione was most of the way toward Snape when you made that daring leap.”

            “No way,” said Hagrid, who hadn’t heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. “Why would Snape do something like that?”

            Harry, Millicent and Blaise had been heading out the door of the castle when they stumbled upon Ron and Hermione. They were just about to head to the Slytherin common room to warn them about Snape. Harry asked them to come to Hagrid’s with him just in case he needed back up.

            “I found out something about him,” he told Hagrid. “He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding—“

            Hagrid dropped the teapot.

“How do you know about Fluffy?” he said.

“Fluffy?”

“Yeah, he’s mine, bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the….”

            “Yes!” said Harry eagerly.

“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.”

“But Snape’s trying to steal it.”

“Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.”

            “So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Millicent, clearly unhappy with Hagrid’s nonchalant attitude.

            Hermione shook her head. “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!”

            “I’m tellin’ yey, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly. “I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all of yeh’s, yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel…..”

            “Aha!” said Harry. “so there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved is there?”

            Hagrid looked furious with himself. 

[jordandrawings]

65 Questions You Aren't Used To

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

Jordan: I doubt everyone’s existence

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

Jordan: I’d say 3, My mind thinks of weird things in the dark and I see things that aren’t there.

3. The person you would never want to meet?

Jordan: I’d never want to meet anyone who loves them self so much it’s all they can talk about, they always make sure that their make-up is ok and that they’re looking “Perfect”. Trust me, I put up with this every day in school

4. What is your favourite word?

Jordan: i don’t know... uh... consent?

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

Jordan: I’d say a Sakura tree.

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

Jordan: Nothing, I was to busy listening to music.

7. What shirt are you wearing?

Jordan: A Dan and Phil “Cat whiskers come from within” T-shirt.

8. What do you label yourself as?

Jordan: A fan-girl... I guess.

9. Bright room or dark room?

Jordan: Surprisingly, my room is bright

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Jordan: Sleep.

11. Favourite age you’ve been so far?

Jordan: I haven’t really enjoyed any age of mine just yet, so I’ll just say when I was 1... I guess, Cause I can’t remember anything from that age.

12. Who told you they loved you last?

Jordan: My dad.

13. Your worst enemy?

Jordan: Nearly everyone I know in school.

14. What is your current desktop picture?

Jordan: An 8-bit Sakura tree.

15. Do you like someone?

Jordab: Kinda... I guess, online.

16. The last song you listened to?

Jordan: The Milo Murphy’s law theme song.

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Jordan: My irl friend’s bitchy friend who always tells me to shut up.

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Jordan: As I just said... My irl friend’s bitchy friend who always tells me to shut up.

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

Jordan: I’d have @pyroisswag. I’d just tell her to get some sweets, give her the money and when she gets back we just watch cartoons and Dan and Phil for the rest of the day.

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

Jordan: Walking 2 miles.

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

Jordan: I’d look like myself except with shorter hair, no boobs and deeper voice. And I’d just live my life as normal.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

Jordan: I can turn one eye in with out moving the other.

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

Jordan: Self confidence.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

Jordan: A ham sandwich, I’m very plain when It comes to sandwiches.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Jordan: Online :3

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

Jordan: Tokyo!!

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

Jordan: I’d say: “Could you give it to someone else, give it to Rick Sanchez for all I care”.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

Jordan: No one annoy me or anyone else I love. :3

29. What is your favourite expletive?

Jordan: I don’t have one

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

Jordan: The doll my dad gave to me when I was a baby.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Jordan: I wouldn’t tell people in school about my youtube channel back in 2012.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

Jordan: America, I can visit most of my friends!

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

Jordan: Edd Gould, He died to young

34. What was your last dream about?

Jordan: I think it was about Wander over yonder, I can’t remember my dreams when I wake up but I remember seeing a little chibi Lord Hater in my dream... That’s it.

35. Are you a good person?

Jordan: I can be when I’m not angry, sad or sleepy

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

Jordan: 3 times, when ever I’d break my arm or leg. I broke my arm twice and my leg once, ON FUCKING SOFT PLAY!!

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

Jordan: I have, I’ve even built some in my neighbours yards.

38. What is the colour of your socks?

Jordan: Black and Grey.

39. What type of music do you like?

Jordan: I like Electro swing, modern and old stuff, Basically anything that is catchy.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

Jordan: I’m a sucker for Sunsets

41. What is your favourite milkshake flavor?

Jordan: Strawberry and Vanilla.

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

Jordan: I don’t support any, I hate foot ball and any sport ever created excpet for swimming and ice skating.

43. Do you have any scars?

Jordan: I don’t think I do.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

Jordan: I’m stuck between a voice actor, an animator, a character designer or a story boarder.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Jordan: My weight.

46. Are you reliable?

Jordan: I can be sometimes.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Jordan: Will I ever become what I want to be.

48. Do you hold grudges?

Jordan: Yeah. Again the principle at my school for being an ass-hole to my dad.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

Jordan: A shibi inu and a panda.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

Jordan: Talking about Sausage Party with my friends and what are dark fantasies are about

51. Are you a good liar?

Jordan: My facial expression makes it terrible but I disguise my voice.

52. How long could you go without talking?

Jordan: I don’t know, Never timed myself.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

Jordan: I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad hair style I didn’t like. I’ve had the same hair style ever since I was young

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

Jordan: I have, It turned out ok.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

Jordan: I can, Too much to list because I’m tired.

56. What do you like on your toast?

Jordan: Butter, just butter.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

Jordan: Me as a star Nomad.

58. What would be you dream car?

Jordan: My dad’s car, it’s so cool!!

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

Jordan: I sing in the shower often, I once even sang a Steven Universe Medley in the shower.

60. Do you believe in aliens?

Jordan: Yes.

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

Jordan: I don’t think I ever have read a horoscope

62. What is your favourite letter of the alphabet?

Jordan: I don’t know... Um... Y? I guess. Cause Why?

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Jordan: Dragons

64. What do you think about babies?

Jordan: They’re so adorable!!!! 

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

*65. OK, how about, If you could meet someone famous, who would it be?

Jordan: Jack McBrayer, He’s basically the sweetest man on earth with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen!!

I tag: @pyroisswag and @hollywoodholly

[readbookywooks]

Quidditch

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.　

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.　　Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn't know which was worse -- people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress.　　

It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermlone as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do. She had also tent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.　　

Harry learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.　　

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the three of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.　　

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"　　

It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed him.　　

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."　　

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"　　

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.　　

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway.　　

Harry felt restless. He wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back, to take his mind off his nerves about tomorrow. Why should he be afraid of Snape? Getting up, he told Ron and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have it.　　

"Better you than me," they said together, but Harry had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if there were other teachers listening.　　

He made his way down to the staffroom and knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again. Nothing.　　

Perhaps Snape had left the book in there? It was worth a try. He pushed the door ajar and peered inside -- and a horrible scene met his eyes.　　

Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.　　

"Blasted thing*," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"　　

Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but --　　"POTTER!"　　

Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped.　　

"I just wondered if I could have my book back."　　

"GET OUT! OUT!"　　

Harry left, before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor. He sprinted back upstairs.　　

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Harry joined them. "What's the matter?"　　

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen.　　

"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him -- he's after whatever it's guarding! And Id bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"　　

Hermione's eyes were wide.　　

"No -- he wouldn't, she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."　　

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"　　

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. Neville was snoring loudly, but Harry couldn't sleep. He tried to empty his mind -- he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours -- but the expression on Snape's face when Harry had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.　　

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheer ful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.　　

"You've got to eat some breakfast."　　

"I don't want anything."　　

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.　　

"I'm not hungry."　　

Harry felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking onto the field.　　

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."　　

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.　　

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.　　

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.　　

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).　　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 Weasley.　　

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.　　

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry, "we were on the team last year."　　

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."　　

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."　　

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."　　

Harry followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping his knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers.　　

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.　　

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.　　

"Mount your brooms, please."　　

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand.　　

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.　　

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too --"　　

"JORDAN!"　　

"Sorry, Professor."　　

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.　　

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve -- back to Johnson and -- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there -- he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she's really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead -- come on, now, Angelina -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"　　

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.　　

"Budge up there, move along."　　

"Hagrid!"　　

Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.　　

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"　　

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."　　

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.　　

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.　　

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."　　

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.　　

"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.　　

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?"　　

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.　　

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch -all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.　　

Harry was faster than Higgs -- he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead - - he put on an extra spurt of speed --　　

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below -- Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.　　

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.　　

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.　　

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"　　

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.　　

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"　　

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.　　

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.　　

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."　　Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.　　

"So -- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating　　

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.　　

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul - 'Jordan, I'm warning you --"　　

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."　

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.　　

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal- posts -- he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out -- and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.　　

Lee was still commentating.　　

"Slytherin in possession -- Flint with the Quaffle -- passes Spinnet -- passes Bell -- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose -- only joking, Professor -- Slytherins score -- A no...　　

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying- him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.　　 

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have...."　　

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.　　

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.　　

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic -- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."　　

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.　　

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced.　　

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape -- look."　　

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.　　

"He's doing something -- jinxing the broom," said Hermione.　　

"What should we do?"　　

"Leave it to me."　　

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good -- every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.　　

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately.　　

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well- chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.　　

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row -- Snape would never know what had happened.　　

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.　　

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.　　

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick -- he hit the field on all fours -- coughed -- and something gold fell into his hand.　　

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.　　

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference -- Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results -- Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron and Hermione.　　

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "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 one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.　　

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."　　

Hagrid dropped the teapot.　　

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.　　

"Fluffy?"　　

"Yeah -- he's mine -- bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year -- I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the　　

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.　　

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."　　

"But Snape's trying to steal it."　　

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."　　

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.　　

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.　　

I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them!　　

You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"　　

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh -- yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel --"　　

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"　　

Hagrid looked furious with himself.