263Chapter 6: Quidditch Match
Chapter 6
Quidditch Match
"Don't worry about me," Harry said, in what he hoped was an offhand voice, "I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."
It was Halloween and Ron, Hermione, and Harry were finishing breakfast. He accompanied them to the entrance hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.
Malfoy walked passed Harry, and they both shared a look as the Slytherin walked by, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. The two trolls glared at Harry as they passed, but Harry was sure he saw Malfoy give him a friendly smirk. When the three was gone, Harry made his solitary way up the marble staircase, through the deserted corridors, and back to Gryffindor Tower.
"Password?" the Fat Lady said, jerking out of a doze.
"Fortuna Major," Harry said listlessly.
The portrait swung open and he climbed thorugh the hole into the common room. It was full of chattering first and second years, and a few older students, who had obviously visited Hogsmeade so often the novelty had worn off.
"Harry! Harry! Hi, Harry!"
It was Colin Creevey, a second year who was deeply in awe of Harry and never missed an opportunity to speak to him.
"Aren't you going to Hogsmeade Harry? Why not? Hey"—Colin looked eagerly around at his friends—"you can come and sit with us, if you like, Harry!"
"Er—no, thanks, Colin," Harry said, who wasn't in the mood to have a lot of people staring avidly at the scar on his forehead. He made an excuse and turned right around and headed back out of the portrait hole again.
"What was the point waking me up?" the Fat Lady called grumpily after him as he walked away.
Harry wandered dispiritedly towards the library, but halfway there he changed his mind; he didn't feel like working. He turned around and came face-to-face with Filch, who had obviously just seen off the last of the Hogsmeade visitors.
"What are you doing?" Filch snarled suspiciously.
"Nothing," Harry said truthfully.
"Nothing!" Filch spat, his jowls quivering unpleasantly. "A likely story! Sneaking around on your own—why aren't you in Hogsmeade buying Stink Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?"
Harry shrugged.
"Well, get back to your common room where you belong!" Filch snapped, and he stood glaring until Harry had passed out of sight.
But Harry didn't go back to the common room; he climbed a staircase, thinking vaguely of visiting the Owlery to see Hedwig, and was walking along another corridor when a voice from inside one of the rooms said, "Harry?"
Harry doubled back to see to see who had spoken and met Professor Lupin-Black, looking around his office door.
"What are you doing?" Lupin-Black said, though in a very different voice from Filch. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"
"Hogsmeade," Harry said, in a would-be casual voice.
"Ah," Lupin-Black said. He considered Harry for a moment. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a grindylow for our next lesson."
"A what?" Harry asked.
He followed Lupin-Black into his office. In the corner stood a very large tank of water. A sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long spindly fingers.
"Water demon," Lupin-Black said, surveying the grindylow thoughtfully. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."
The grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in a corner.
"Cup of tea?" Lupin-Black said, looking around for his kettle. "I was just thinking of making one."
"All right," Harry said awkwardly. His father's warning came to mind and he became curious for the reason. Lupin-Black tapped the kettle with his wand, and a blast of steam issued suddenly from the spout.
"Sit down," Lupin-Black said, taking the lid off of a dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid—but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?"
Harry looked at him. Lupin-Black's eyes were twinkling.
"How did you know about that?" Harry asked.
"Professor McGonagall told me," Lupin-Black said, passing Harry a chipped mug of tea. "You're not worried, are you?"
"No," Harry said.
He thought of telling Lupin-Black of his father's letters, but decided not to. He did not even know how to even introduce the subject. For all he knew, his father and Professor Lupin-Black barely knew each other when they were younger. Something of Harry's thoughts seemed to have shown on his face, because Lupin-Black said, "Anything worrying you, Harry?"
"No," Harry lied. He drank a bit of tea and watched the grindylow brandishing a fist at him. "Yes," he said suddenly, putting his tea down on Lupin-Black's desk. "Few things…My dad… he told me some things in his letters."
"I could guess so," Professor Lupin-Black sighed, looking at Harry. "I'm guessing he was not happy of my appointment as your Professor?"
"Err—kind of, but how did you know?" Harry asked.
"Your dad and I were friends once," Professor Lupin-Black said. "While we were students here. We were all in the same year and all sorted into Gryffindor. It was your dad, me, and my husband, as well as one other boy."
"Wait, my dad was friends with you and your husband?" Harry asked, frowning slightly. "He never mentioned anyone of you. He only talked about him and my mum during Hogwarts."
"Well," Professor Lupin-Black said. "That is understandable. I really do not know how to describe this, and even if I should be the one to say this, but your father and us… we had a falling out."
"What? Why?" Harry asked.
Lupin frowned, and tried to pick his words carefully. "It happened… a few weeks after your mother… died. Sirius, my husband, and I tried to bring your dad's mood up. We helped him find the home you two are living in now, and afterwards we announced our engagement. James was… angry, and we never spoke again."
"But why would my dad be angry?" Harry asked, trying to think of any reason his father would be angry at Professor Lupin-Black. Sure, his dad does get mad, but it was usually at co-workers who messed up paperwork that caused him extra work. Harry couldn't remember a time his dad was mad at him though.
"That is something you should ask your father, Harry," Professor Lupin-Black said in a serious tone.
"Oh…" Harry said, frowning slightly. He looked around a bit more then said, "Professor, about the boggart… why didn't you let me fight it?"
"Why I jumped in front of you?" Professor Lupin-Black nodded. "Well Harry, to be perfectly honest, I thought that the boggart would turn into Voldemort. I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined that people would panic."
"I didn't think of Voldemort," Harry said honestly. "I—I remembered those dementors."
"And for that, I am impressed," Lupin-Black said thoughtfully. He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harry's face. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is—fear. Very wise, Harry."
Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he drank some more tea. "So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the boggart?" Lupin-Black said shrewdly.
"Well… yeah," Harry said. He was suddenly feeling a lot happier. "Professor Lupin-Black, you know the dementors—"
He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in," Lupin-Black called.
The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblin which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry, his black eyes narrowing.
"Ah, Severus," Lupin-Black said, smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"
Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin-Black.
"I was showing Harry my grindlylow," Lupin-Black said pleasantly, pointing to the tank.
"Fascinating," Snape said, without looking at it. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."
"Yes, yes, I will," Lupin-Black said.
"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape continued. "If you need more."
"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus."
"Not at all," Snape said, but there was a look in his eye Harry didn't like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful. Harry looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.
"Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me," he said. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer, as is my husband, and this one is particularly complex." He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a sip and shuttering.
"Why—?" Harry began. Lupin looked at him and answered the unfinished question.
"I've been feeling a bit off-color," he said. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it, and those who do charge a small fortune."
Professor Lupin-Black took another sip and Harry had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of his hands.
"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts," he blurted out.
"Really?" Lupin-Black said, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.
"Some people reckon—" Harry hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, "some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."
Lupin-Black drained the goblet and pulled a face. "Disgusting," he said. "Well, Harry, I'd better get back to work. I'll see you at the feast later."
"Right," Harry said, putting down his empty teacup. The empty goblet was still smoking.
"Potter, hey Potter," a voice whispered down the hall. Harry looked around. Students were starting to come back from Hogsmeade, groups chatting happily of what they saw and brought. Harry looked up and saw Malfoy standing by himself a little aways. Malfoy was alone, and when they made eye contact, the Slytherin smirked and walked into an empty corridor. Harry, curious, and somehow knowing Malfoy wanted him to follow, doubled-back down the corridor and turned the corner that Malfoy did.
The Slytherin was waiting by an open door, leaning against the stone wall next to it. "Hurry up Potter, before anyone sees us," Malfoy said.
Harry obeyed and followed Malfoy into the empty classroom, closing the door behind him. "Malfoy, what do you want?" Harry asked curiously.
Malfoy turned around to Harry and pulled a small bag from an inside pocket. "Since you were whining about not going to Hogsmeade," he began, "I decided to treat you with something."
Malfoy tossed the bag into the air, and Harry caught it easily. He looked confused as he opened it, chocolate bars and other sweets hidden inside it. "What is this?" he asked.
"Sweets, from Honeydukes," Malfoy said. "I decided to get you some chocolates, but Blaise was determined to fill it." His pale face had a hint of red as he mentioned Blaise's involvement, as if he was ruining Malfoy's plan.
"Ohh… well, thanks Draco," Harry smiled at Malfoy. He took out a chocolate bar and unwrapped it, taking a huge bite of it and savoring the flavor. "Mmm, this is good," he said with his mouth full.
"Honestly Potter, were you raised in a farm or something?" Malfoy sneered. "Don't talk to me with your mouth full like that."
Harry chewed and swallowed quickly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry Malfoy," he said.
Malfoy rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever Potter, just make sure not to do it again."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he continued to eat the chocolate. Malfoy just shook his head and watched silently as Harry ate his first chocolate bar from Honeydukes. When he was done, Harry looked up at Malfoy and asked, "Did you have any?"
"Of course I did," Malfoy shrugged. "But my bar was half the one you just ate Potter."
Harry dug into the bag and pulled out another bar of chocolate. He walked up to Malfoy, who just watched him curiously. When he reached the boy, Harry unwrapped the chocolate and gave it to him. "It's only fair yeah? I mean, you technically own all of this," he said.
Malfoy looked at Harry for a moment, studying the small boy carefully before taking it. "You're right, I guess. This is mine," he said. He took the chocolate bar and broke it in half. He took his half and shoved the second half in Harry's still open hand. "So it's mine to do with as I wish," Malfoy continued. "Eat Potter.
Harry looked down at his half of the chocolate and nibbled on it. Draco took a bite, chewed carefully, and swallowed before saying, "I have to return to Blaise. I will see you at the feast… Potter."
Harry nodded, "See you… Malfoy."
Harry watched as Malfoy left the classroom. Something strange happened inside him as he stared at the open door. He finished his half of the chocolate bar and wiped his hands together. After pocketing the bag of sweets, Harry left the empty classroom and headed back towards Gryffindor Tower.
Ron and Hermione returned around dusk, Ron dumping a shower of brilliantly colored sweets into Harry's lap. Their faces were pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.
"Thanks," Harry said, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. He was already feeling full from the sweets Malfoy gave him. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"
By the sound of it—everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, and many places besides. "The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!"
"Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look—"
"We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks—"
"Wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up—"
"What did you do?" Hermione said, looking anxious. "Did you get any work done?"
"No," Harry said. "Lupin-Black made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in. …"
He told Ron and Hermione all about the goblet as they started headed out of the portrait hole, following the crowd. The two were shocked that Lupin-Black actually drank the potion, the three of them suspicious of Snape's intention.
Throughout the feast, Harry kept looking at the staff table. Professor Lupin-Black looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Harry moved his eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was he imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering toward Lupin-Black more often than was natural?
The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.
It had been a wonderful evening for Harry, he had obtaining enough sweets to last him the rest of the month from both Ron and Malfoy. The next day, life continued as normal for Harry. He attended classes, went to Quidditch practice, and before he knew it the days started to pass by quickly. He tried his best to spend some time with Blaise and Malfoy, but Crabbe and Goyle made it next to impossible for him to even approach Malfoy. Harry was able to reach Blaise though, during the Friday afternoon before the first Quidditch match of the season the next day.
"So, are you ready for the match?" Blaise asked. They were sitting in an empty corridor near a small quad. It was dark inside the castle, so dark that extra lanterns and torches were lit, so many of the students were sticking to inside the castle. Outside the winds were howling and the rain fell harder than ever. Harry and Blaise were sitting close together to stay warm.
"Yeah, I think I am. Wood's been training us relentlessly," Harry said. "You should have seen Fred and George yesterday, they looked like they were about to fall off their brooms they were so tired!"
Blaise laughed. "I can imagine," he said. "I watched it without you know."
"Y-you did?" Harry stuttered.
"Yeah," Blaise smirked. "You know, you look very good on a broom Harry."
Harry's face grew hot and he sputtered as he tried to say something. "W-W-Well, umm thanks?"
Blaise just smiled and crooked his head a bit. "I'm serious Harry, you have some serious moves on that broom. It's no wonder you always catch the Snitch." Harry's face grew hotter, and he somehow knew that it was getting closer to the shade of red of Ron's hair. "No, don't blush like that Harry. I'm just complimenting you."
"Sorry," Harry apologized.
"Don't be, I like it when you blush," Blaise smiled. "It means I'm saying the right things."
"Wha—"
"Hey, Harry! How about a friendly bet?" Blaise smiled.
"A bet?" Harry asked, feeling lost in their conversation.
"Yeah, let's bet on the Quidditch match tomorrow," Blaise said. "If Gryffindor wins, then I'll do something for you, but if you lose, then you'll have to do something for me." Blaise smiled at Harry, who nodded.
"Umm alright," he said. "If we win tomorrow… how about you do my charms homework for a week?"
Blaise laughed and shook his head, "Too easy Harry, but alright. Let's see, how about if Gryffindor Team somehow lose… I'll take you out and cheer you up."
"Take me out?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, just the two of us," Blaise nodded. "We could go for a walk down the lake, or find somewhere private… anything to cheer you up." Blaise gave Harry an honest smile, which Harry returned.
"Alright," Harry agreed. "If we win, you'll do my Charms homework, and if we lose you'll cheer me up… wait a minute, doesn't both ways only benefit me?"
"Don't think about it Harry," Blaise said. "I'm just being a good friend. And besides, spending more time with you benefits me as well."
Harry nodded, understandingly, and said, "Alright then, it's a bet."
They shook hands and Blaise grinned. "Awesome! Good luck Harry."
"Thanks," Harry said. "Hopefully Hufflepuff would be easy."
"I don't know Diggory's an excellent Seeker… though, he doesn't look as seamless as you do on a broom," Blaise said. Harry laughed, and a flash of lightning illuminated the wall in front of them. "I think we should continue this elsewhere, come on Harry," Blaise said. He stood up and led Harry away from the howling winds in the quad. They walked close together, Harry still feeling the chilling effects of the wind, as they turned a corner and walked down a corridor, passing several students who did not glance back. "So, as I was saying…" Blaise continued. "Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, should be exciting to watch. Though… I could do without the rain."
"Yeah," Harry frowned. "It looks like it'll never stop."
"I'm sure you'll still do great Harry, after all you are the best Seeker around," Blaise chuckled. "Just don't tell Draco that."
"I won't," Harry said.
They continued to walk down several corridors, their talks turning to more safe topics. Harry did not care that they passed by several students as they walked, nor did he notice or think about the way some of them looked back to make sure they were seeing things right. He was just enjoying time with his friend, and that was all that mattered to him at that time. They continued to talk and wander until they found themselves in the entrance hall. "I'll see you tomorrow Harry," Blaise said, taking a step towards the dungeons. "It was great talking to you."
"I had a great time too, see ya," Harry said. They both turned towards their respected staircases and climbed them, Blaise heading towards the dungeons, and Harry making the long trek towards Gryffindor Tower.
The next day, Harry woke up extremely early; so early that it was still dark. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him. Then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright—Peeves the Poltergeist had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear.
"What did you do that for?" Harry said furiously.
Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard, and zoomed backward out of the room, cackling.
Harry fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It as half past four. Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now that he was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls, and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In a few hours he would be out on the Quidditch field, battling through that gale. Finally, he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand, and walked quietly out of the dormitory.
As Harry opened the door, something brushed against his leg. He bent down just in time to grab Crookshanks by the end of his bushy tail and drag him outside. "You know, I reckon Ron was right about you," Harry told the cat suspiciously. "There are plenty of mice around the place—go and chase them. Go on," he added, nudging the cat down the spiral staircase with his foot.
The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. He was starting to feel very apprehensive about the match. Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to him in the corridor; Diggory was a sixth year and a lot bigger than Harry. Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Diggory's weight would be an advantage in this weather because he was less likely to be blown off course. Harry's thoughts then drifted to his bet with Blaise. Even though it was just a small friendly bet, Harry did not want to lose, and worried of not only the consequences of losing Gryffindor's first match, but of what the other students will think of him and Blaise alone together.
Harry whiled away the hours until dawn in front of the fire, getting up every now and then to stop Crookshanks from sneaking up the boys' staircase again. At long last Harry thought it must be time for breakfast, so he headed through the portrait hole alone.
He was one of the first few who arrived for breakfast, and he was nibbling on a piece of toast when the rest of the team arrived. Oliver tried to psych Harry and the rest of the team up, but Harry wasn't having it that morning. He felt weird, like he something deep inside him was telling him that something terrible will happen.
Soon, Harry found himself in the locker room of the Quidditch field, fully dressed in his scarlet robe and listening to Wood's pre-game speech. If the crowd was cheering, they couldn't hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. Rain was spattering over Harry's glasses as they walked out. How was he supposed to find the Snitch in this weather!?
Madam Hooch called for them to mount their brooms, and with her whistle they were off! Within five minutes Harry was soaked to his skin and frozen, hardly able to see his teammates, let alone the tiny Snitch. He flew backward and forward across the field past blurred red and yellow shapes, with no idea of what was happening in the rest of the game. A golden glint flew past him, and he tried his best to follow it. He couldn't hear the commentary over the wind. There was a clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. The lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry saw the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats. This was quickly getting dangerous, Harry had to find the Snitch quickly or else—
An eerie silence was fell around him. The wind was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Harry had gone suddenly deaf—what was going on?
And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him, inside him, just as he became aware of something moving on the field below. …
Before he'd had time to think, Harry had taken his eyes off the golden glint and looked down. At least a hundred dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing beneath him. It was as though freezing water were rising in his chest, cutting at his insides. And then he heard it again …Someone was screaming, screaming inside his head…a woman…
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"
"Stand aside, you silly girl … stand aside, now. …."
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"
Numbing, swirling white mist was filling Harry's brain. …What was he doing? Why was he flying? He needed to help her. …She was going to die. …She was going to be murdered…
He was falling, falling through the icy mist.
"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"
A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming and Harry knew no more.
"Lucky the ground was so soft."
"I thought he was dead for sure."
"But he didn't even break his glasses."
Harry could hear the voices whispering but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was that every inch of him was aching as though it had been beaten.
"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."
Harry's eyes snapped open. He was laying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around his bed. Ron and Hermione were there also, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.
"Harry!" Fred said, who looked extremely white underneath the mud. "How're you feeling?"
It was as though Harry's memory was on fast forward. The lightning—the Grim—the Snitch—and the dementors …
"What happened?" he asked, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.
"You fell off," Fred said. "Must've been what, fifty feet?"
"We thought you'd died," Alicia, who was shaking, said.
The doors to the Hospital Wing banged open, and Harry turned his head to see his father, pale-faced and worried sick running towards his bed. "Harry!" he called out. "Harry! Oh Harry—move aside please—Oh Harry, what happened? McGonagall sent me an owl—you fell—I—" James Potter was now sitting on Harry's bed, touching and holding his son as if looking for any broken or missing pieces. "I knew this was a horrible idea, I just bloody knew it," he muttered to himself. "Dementors in Hogwarts!"
Harry let his father check him out, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he knew that his dad was with him. When his dad finished making sure that he was still whole, he grabbed Harry's shoulders gently and asked, "What happened Harry?"
"I don't remember," Harry said.
"Mr. Potter?" Wood said cautiously.
James turned around and looked at Wood. "Yes… Oliver Wood?"
"Harry was trying to get the Snitch, but the dementors came… They went to Harry and Diggory… Diggory got the Snitch," Wood said, as if losing the match was the most devastating thing.
"Dementors came to the Quidditch field!?" James roared. Harry flinched as his dad's hands tightened quickly around his shoulders. James noticed this and immediately let go. "Sorry," he said softly.
He sat up and looked around, frowning. "Where is Madam Pomfrey?" he demanded.
As if waiting to be called upon, Madam Pomfrey came in to tell the team to leave Harry in peace. She noticed James and said, "Your son's going to be fine James. Boy's just like you. Study and rock-headed."
"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice, bringing Harry's attention back to her. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away. …He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him—"
"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," Ron said. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…"
His voice faded, but Harry hardly noticed. He was thinking about what the dementors had done to him…about the screaming voice. He looked up and saw Ron and Hermione looking at him so anxiously that he quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say.
"Harry," his dad asked, "Harry where is your broom?"
Harry looked around and frowned. He couldn't find his Nimbus Two Thousand anywhere. "Where is my Nimbus?" he asked Ron and Hermione.
The two looked quickly at each other. "Er—"
"What?" Harry said, looking from one to the other.
"Well …when you fell off, it got blown away," Hermione said hesitantly.
"And?"
"And it hit—it hit—oh Harry—it hit the Whomping Willow."
Harry's insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.
"And?" he said, dreading the answer.
"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," Ron said. "It—it doesn't like being hit."
"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," Hermione said in a very small voice.
Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.
James looked at the lost look on his son's face and sat down on the bed again, putting his arm around Harry's shoulder. "It'll be okay son," he said. He looked down at the remains of his gift to Harry for joining the team and said, "How about… I get you a new broomstick eh? I bet that will cheer you up—or maybe I can try and get another Nimbus Two Thousand. I'm sure that there must still be one at—"
"No thanks," Harry said shaking his head. He couldn't believe that his broomstick was gone. And the thought of replacing it… he couldn't bear it. "Please don't replace it," he whispered.
"Alright," James said. "I won't. But what will you do for a broom?"
"I'll think of something… thanks dad."
"You're welcome son," James said. He ruffled Harry's hair and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, you know that?"
"Yeah… I love you too," Harry said, his eyes never leaving the destroyed broomstick. He heard his dad sigh and felt his weight leaving the bed as he stood up.
"Right, I have to go and talk to Dumbledore," James said seriously. "Ron, Hermione, it was good seeing you again. I'll see you during break Harry." And with that James Potter left the hospital wing. Harry only looked up for a moment, before looking back at his faithful, broken broomstick.
A/N: Took some time but here we go! Sorry for the delay, was taking my time and what not. I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read this, and I hope that this chapter will make your day a little better!
WynterCullen809: Hello! I'm glad you're enjoying this!
BrotherOfBasilisks: Hello again! What's wrong with Zabini? I thought you would be a girl who would love a guy like Zabini ;) lol. As for skipping the 1st and 2nd year… they were just boring and regular school years. And you'll see why and how later on. Let's just say that an… old friend will be coming back.
Zombigirlfriend: I'm super glad that you're enjoying this! And thank you for the very nice compliment. You make a gay guy blush.
Kigen Dawn: No, I think Daddy will get used to Harry having some slithering friends… especially since both of them want to slither into Harry. And Daddy will be busy doing his own self-reflections. But that's not till later.
Guest: I love you too!
Zatsune D. DrarryFan: Ah yes, a forbidden fruit that will be very juicy.
Animemerodi: Okay.
Hyper-Blossom Z: Well, he isn't lying. Harry is 'his'
Jokul Frosti: Really? Huh… and I think Malfoy is just taking his sweet time.
Sasuhinas fan: Ahh… And Blaise is good at that making Draco jealous thing, isn't he? And what fantasy is that? Pray, tell me.
Ern: I'm sure they will. They are his best friends after all!