Rise of the Riddles

Chapter 15: Slytherin Vs. Gryffindor

Harry woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. He was looking forward to making Weasley crash even harder than Lockhart had. He had never wanted to beat Gryffindor so badly. Even he had to admit, however, that they weren't all bad. Their Chasers were decent. They didn't stand a chance against Slytherin, though. After half an hour of lying there thinking of Weasley's demise, he got up, dressed, and went up to breakfast early, where he found the rest of the Slytherin team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking giddy and speaking quickly.
As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Luna, Hermione, Alexander and Violet came hurrying over to wish Harry and Draco good luck as they entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their emerald Slytherin robes, then sat down to listen to Marcus' usual pre-match pep talk.
"Gryffindor doesn't stand a chance. We've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weather and we're going to make them rue the day they let another Weasley on the team." Marcus turned to Harry. "It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have talent. Get to that Snitch before Weasley, and make sure you humiliate him in the process."
"Just like with Lockhart," said Draco, winking at him. As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw generally supported Slytherin, and the Hufflepuffs had heard the true story of the founding four. However, the Gryffindors in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Marcus and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.
"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..." With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.
"All right there, Scarhead?" yelled Weasley, rising far more slowly on his school-issued broom. Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.
"Close one, Harry!" said Michael, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Gryffindor. Harry nodded. He watched over the field for a while, not seeing any sign of the Snitch. Slytherin was up by 40 points when it started to rain. Harry felt the heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his glasses. His team's superior skills were clearly doing their jobs. Harry was getting bored, just searching, so he decided to have some fun with Weasley.
He sped off toward the goal hoops, a look of intense concentration on his face, and was thrilled to hear the telltale whoosh of another broom behind him. He eased upon the acceleration to allow Weasley to almost catch up to him. Weasley, clearly thinking he was they better flyer, laughed.
"You can't beat me to the Snitch, Potter." Harry reached out a hand, and just as he was about to slam into the goal-hoop, pulled up in a nearly 90 degree turn. Weasley, unable to pull off such a maneuver on his broom, slammed into the hoop, face first. Harry could hear the laughter from the crowds. The Gryffindor team captain called a time out as Madam Pomfrey came down onto the field. Harry lazily watched as Weasley flew down unsteadily. Harry flew down to meet his team while the nurse healed Weasley.
"That was amazing, Harry. I can't believe that idiot fell for it."
"How could he not see that the Snitch wasn't there?" Harry shrugged. He took a quick glance over to the Gryffindor team, where the captain was shouting wildly at Weasley. They all had a good laugh at that.
"Guess they aren't so happy with their new Seeker," said Harry. At a blast of Madam Hooch's whistle, they all remounted their brooms and flew back into position. With another shrill whistle, the Quaffle was released again. The Slytherins continued to dominate, and when the score had reached 150-10, Harry decided to have some more fun. Harry looked to Draco and nodded.
"Harry!" Draco called out to him and pointed. Harry, after a quick look to Weasley, dived toward the ground. He had to keep a slower pace, though, to ensure Weasley kept up. He could hear the commentator in the background.
"It looks like one of the Slytherin Chasers alerted the Seeker about the Snitch. Not exactly promising that the Seeker can't find it for himself..."
"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall's voice broke in. Harry had to acknowledge that she did as good a job as possible of keeping the commentator—a Gryffindor—from being overly biased. Just a couple feet from the ground, Harry spotted Weasley coming into his peripheral viewing range. A foot from the ground, Harry jumped onto his broom with both feet and used all of his strength to even out his broom parallel to the ground. Weasley, however, did not such thing, and slammed into the ground at full speed. Another time out was called, and Madam Pomfrey came back out onto the field to mend the Gryffindor Seeker once again.
"Do you think he'll learn to not to follow me?" asked Harry.
"I hope not," answered Draco. "It's too much fun to watch him crash." They all turned to look at the Gryffindor team where Weasley was being yelled at once again. After a few more minutes, the game was restarted.
"Think you're so tough?" yelled Weasley. "You won't get me again." Trying very hard not to laugh, Harry saw it—the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches behind Weasley's left ear—and Weasley, trying to find a way to make his abysmal performance so far look better, hadn't seen it. For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward Weasley in case he looked up and saw the Snitch. WHAM. He had stayed still a second too long. A Bludger had hit him, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side, one idea firmly lodged in his numb brain: get to Weasley. Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear: Weasley thought Harry was attacking him.
"What the —" he gasped, careening out of Harry's way. Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch; he felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd below as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out. With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.
"We've won," he said vaguely before he fainted. He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth. "Oh, no, not you," he moaned.
"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of people pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."
"No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks..." He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. He heard a familiar clicking noise nearby. "I don't want a photo of this, Creevey," he said loudly.
"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times —"
"Be that as it may, you will not use it on me. Madam Pomfrey will be here in a moment," said Harry through clenched teeth.
"She's coming now, Professor," said a student, Harry couldn't tell who it was. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say —"
"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves. Harry, now angered beyond caring about his pain, sat up and pulled out his wand.
"You are not a qualified healer, and, as such, you will not perform a single spell on me. Have I made myself clear?"
"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, I can see Madam Pomfrey actually; she will be able to — er — tidy you up a bit." Glancing nervously at Harry's wand, he got up and backed away. Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased, as she had heard Harry.
"Gilderoy, how can you even think of performing such a tricky spell on a student? The results of incorrectly performing such a spell could be disastrous! I'll be having a word with the headmaster, make no mistake. Now, clear out, the lot of you, I need some space to work!" she raged. She performed a quick spell, which was obviously a pain-numbing spell, and then another which seemed to be a diagnostic spell, as she was suddenly reading a piece of parchment.
"Yes, broken bones. Well, not to worry, Mr. Potter, I can mend bones in a second." She raised her wand, and muttered the incantation while dragging her wand down his arm. "Sanare os bracchium." She put her wand away and carefully manipulated Harry's arm. "It all seems to be in working order, just a quick check." She cast the diagnostic spell again and smiled. "Yes, Mr. Potter, you're fine."
"Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." Harry noticed that the crowd had thinned considerably. Only a few students were left standing around, which he was thankful for.
"You're welcome, Harry. Now, I imagine your house is waiting for you to celebrate." Harry threw her a grateful smile, then hurried off to the Slytherin locker room. His team had already left, but Harry knew where to find them. As soon as he had showered and changed, he hurried off to the Slytherin common room. As he entered the castle, someone stepped out in front of him.
"Hiya, Harry." Harry almost growled.
"Go away, Creevey." Harry's angry remark didn't seem to deter the first year at all.
"That was a great game, Harry. Congratulations on the win!"
"Creevey, get back to your dormitory."
"I was hoping I could have a picture, Harry."
"No, Creevey. Now go away." Colin Creevey started to say something else, but was cut off by a different voice.
"Hasn't anyone told you, Creevey, that Gryffindors and Slytherins don't associate? Run off to your own house, you're not wanted here." Creevey turned tale and ran, and Harry looked up at the speaker gratefully.
"Thanks, Ginny. I take it you're finally truly accepting your status as a Slytherin?"
"Of course, Harry. I realize how ridiculous I was being. You were right. It's an honor to be in Slytherin. But let's hurry, everyone is waiting for you in the common room."
"Everyone?"
"Well, besides me, obviously, but even Professor Snape is there."
"Great, I can talk to Luna. I wonder what she thought of my catch." Harry missed the angered look on Ginny's face. As they were rounding the corner, a voice called out.
"Miss Weasley! Might I have a word?" They both spun around.
"Professor Dumbledore," said Ginny. "Can it wait until after the celebration? Maybe after dinner?"
"I'm afraid not, Miss Weasley. Come with me. Enjoy your celebration, Mr. Potter." Ginny reluctantly followed Dumbledore up the stairs, and Harry eagerly continued on to the Slytherin common room. As soon as the door slid open, he was greeted by a roar of noise.
"Excellent catch, Harry!"
"Great work humiliating Weasley."
"Extraordinary game, wasn't it?"
"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said Hermione. "I saw Oliver Wood yelling at Weasley. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Weasley didn't seem too happy." Just then, the person he had been waiting for stepped up.
"You're a great Seeker, Harry." Harry beamed a Luna.
"Thanks, Luna, that means a lot, coming from you."
"You're welcome, Harry. Now, come see all of the sweets!" She led Harry over to the center of the common room, where a table was groaning under cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice. Everyone gathered around the table and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party. After a while, someone tapped him on his shoulder. Harry turned to see Professor Snape standing there.
"Hello, Professor."
"Hello, Harry. I must say, I was quite impressed by your flying. And while, as a Hogwarts professor I cannot condone what you did, as a close friend of your parents, I must say, job well done. Weasley got no more than he deserved." Harry smiled.
"Thank you, sir. I'm hoping he'll leave me alone some now. I'm getting tired of dealing with him."
"I don't blame you. The Weasleys are known to be hot headed and abysmally dull. Let me know if you need him taken care of at any point."
"Yes, sir."
"Well, enjoy your party, I'm going to retire to the blissfully silent solitude of my office."
"Enjoy, sir. I'll see you in class."
"Indeed." He started to turn away, but checked. "Oh, and Harry..." Harry felt his presence as he attempted to use Legilimency against him. However, Harry had grown accustomed to having his shields at full power, so there was no need to reinforce them. Almost instantly he housed a false memory of Weasley apologizing to him for being such an arse. "Very good, Harry," said Professor Snape, withdrawing from Harry's mind. "Still keeping up your skills, I'm glad."
"Thank you, Professor." With that, Professor Snape left the party, and Harry went off in search of Luna. He stayed by her side all afternoon. Harry noticed that Draco stayed very near Hermione, too. As dinnertime neared, the party started to break up as people made their way up to the Great Hall. Harry, Luna, Draco, Hermione, Vince, Millicent, Greg, and Pansy all headed up together. Draco and Harry gave each other questioning looks seeing Vince and Greg with Millicent and Pansy, but kept their speculations to themselves for the time being. At Hermione's urging, they finished their last bit of homework after dinner so they could relax later.