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Chapter 08: Quidditch Madness and More

"I cannot believe the utter gall of Ronald Weasley!" screamed Hermione frantically.

"Welcome to my world," remarked Harry in a dry tone of voice. It was Breakfast the day after the incident and the four friends were eating at the Slytherin Table. The death glares for Hermione had died down with the exception of Malfoy and his merry band of cronies.

"Can you believe what that...I can't even find a word to describe him. Can you believe what he said?" asked Hermione.

"Well perhaps if you told us what he said, maybe we can give our feedback on it," said Theodore.

"He said Harry had let the troll in and was going to have the troll rip him to bits. He is calling you a junior You-Know-Who again," said Hermione, shaking her head in disgust.

"Wrong on both accounts. I was merely going to let him sweat for a little bit and maybe have the troll rough him up slightly before doing the right thing," said Harry. "Of course Weasley would not know the right thing if it kicked him up his a..."

"Harry Potter, don't you dare finish that sentence," said Hermione although she looked like she would rather agree.

"Still, I wonder who let the troll in," said Daphne. "Obviously someone let the troll in, because they are too thick to get in on their own. Any ideas?"

"A few," said Harry. "The first one was someone let it in as a Halloween joke. A sick joke if you ask me. The second theory is a tad more plausible. It is a diversion and I bet it was to see how to get past that three headed dog on the third floor corridor."

"I think I missed this memo," remarked Daphne.

"Young Harry, have you been neglecting to tell us about one of your adventures," said Theodore.

Harry could have smacked himself. In finding Slytherin's secret chambers it slipped his mind entirely.

"Well, on the night I found the chambers, I ran into a little bit of trouble. It seems a bunch of upper year Slytherins wanted to have a bit of fun," said Harry. "Funnily enough, they wanted to rough me up for some reason. It was almost like someone sent them. I would say it was Malfoy but I somehow think he does not have quite that much clout. If I find out who sent them, well, it won't be pretty let me put it that way. Anyway one of the Slytherins had chased me into the Forbidden Corridor. The door seemed to be opened rather easily. Needless to say, I went face to face with a three-headed beast. It looked like that thing which guarded the gates of Hades in Roman Mythology. It's on the tip of my tongue."

Hermione opened her mouth but Theodore was quicker.

"I believe the term you were looking for is Cerebus," said Theodore. "I remember reading a book about Greek Mythology ages ago. Interesting stuff that was."

"Theodore Nott actually picked up a book," said Daphne in mock surprise. Theodore responded by rolling his eyes at her.

Harry's attention was diverted by the arrival of the post. In the post was something Harry had ordered a few weeks ago and it had arrived just a couple of days before the big Quidditch match with Slytherin. Wrapped up was Harry's brand new Nimbus 2000 broom.

"It's here," said Harry looking eager. "It took long enough."

"Is that a Nimbus?" said Theodore. "I must say you have good taste. I am still riding a Cleensweep 5 myself."

"Argh, boys and there broomsticks," said Hermione. "Quidditch, that is all I ever here about from Ron Weasley and you two are talking about it."

Daphne looked at Hermione with a knowing look in her eyes.

"Better get used to it, Hermione," said Daphne. "Through it is not just the boys, there are quite a few girls who are extremely fanatical about the sport."

"What do you have Potter," drawed a familiar annoyance.

Harry turned around, seeing the face of Draco Malfoy, who was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle who were looking menacing as usual.

"Nothing that concern you, Malfoy," said Harry. "Now why don't you be a good little boy and leave. People who have pressing matters to discuss outside of what kind of hair gel you use need to talk."

Malfoy snatched the parcel away from Harry.

"That's a broomstick, Potter," said Malfoy with glee in his eyes. "You are in for it now, first-years are not supposed to have them."

Harry put his hand on his forehead in disgust but before he could set Malfoy straight, he heard a voice behind Malfoy.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?" said the voice of Snape quietly.

"Harry Potter has been sent a broomstick, sir," said Malfoy, hoping to get Harry in trouble with the Head of the Slytherin House.

Then I would be correct to assume you were not aware of the special circumstances surrounding Mr. Potter," said Snape. "He has been granted special permission to play for the Slytherin Quidditch Team as the Seeker. It would do you well to support his efforts. Good Day, Mr. Malfoy."

Snape walked off, appearing to be limping as if his leg was killing him. Malfoy's pale face turned red in anger.

"It's not fair," said Malfoy, walking off angrily. "Precious Potter gets everything only because he has a stupid scar on his forehead. Father promised me I would get the spot as Seeker on the Quidditch Team in my second year and Potter is going to steal all my glory. I should be the one on the team in my first year."

After a hard day of lessons, Harry left the Common Room for his second favorite late night activity, behind talking to his brothers and Master Splinter on the two way mirror. That activity would be going to Slytherin's secret chamber. The truth was Harry only had a chance to lightly glance through the books down there. Opening the trapdoor entrance in the corridor outside the Slytherin Common Room, Harry descended down the stairs.

Reaching his destination, the library, Harry had browsed the books, but a very interesting discovery had caught Harry's eye. It appeared to be a diary of some sort. Looker closer, Harry had stumbled upon a discovery. The diary of Salazar Slytherin was located hidden among all the ancient texts in the Slytherin library. Flipping eagerly to the first page, Harry began reading.

Entry 01:

A strange occurrence happened today. I was practicing my magic when I caused some kind of windstorm to kick up. This is a unique occurrence as when I asked my mentor, he had informed me no one had ever heard of this happening. I hope I can research the matter further. It is times like this I wish a magical school existed so I could learn from a variety of different mentors rather than just one. Just an idea I had. I must conclude this entry, as my mentor is ready to start our lessons for the day.

Harry skimmed the diary a bit before finding another entry, which caught his interest.

Entry 224:

It just goes to show one tinkering around with black magic is not a toy. Some fool opened a portal to the Realm of Darkness and let an army of Demon Warriors in the world. They could have destroyed everything into the world if they were not stopped. Thankfully, a select group which I was part of managed to fight back the demons, ensouling their leader in a temple. We had ripped the Demon's souls from their bodies but were not able to completely destroy them. Thanks to an artifact known as the Eye of Darkness, we can contain these beasts. Even though they are in diluted form, they appear to still retain the power of draining mortals of every happy thought they possess. The Eye of Darkness is the only obstacle, which keeps the demons from regaining their full form and the only artifact, which controls them. I shudder to think what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands.

Harry looked at the text with wide eyes. He would not run into those creatures in a dark alley. They sounded extremely nasty. Skimming through a few more pages but not finding anything else worth reading more closely, Harry had decided to call it a night.

Harry was not the only one wide-awake that night. Dumbledore was sitting in his office, calculating. The troll entering the school the previous evening proved he did not have much time if his plan to get Harry to become the ideal Gryffindor Golden Boy by insisting on a resorting and putting the young boy in his proper house. Dumbledore's window of opportunity was running out. He had to move quickly. Perhaps in a couple of weeks he would call the boy up here for a chat. Perhaps offer him a lemon drop, laced with a hint of Suggestive potion. Grinning at the thought, Dumbledore knew he would regain control of his pawn sooner rather than later. Then Dumbledore's plans could begin set in motion. No one would deduce his true nature, not until it was too late.

Fawkes the Phoenix had been watching the Headmaster from his perch. Contrary to public knowledge, Fawkes was not bonded to the Headmaster, he was bonded to the school and Fawkes would serve the greater good of the school. The Phoenix would never serve as anyone as evil as Dumbledore. The fact had angered Dumbledore many times but yet Dumbledore continued to make himself look like the great leader of the light by using Fawkes' name to make him look good. The manipulative fool would pay for using the phoenix's name in vain.

Excitement was high the next day, as it was the first Quidditch Game of the Season and it was Gryffindor colliding with Slytherin. It was game time and Harry, decked in green robes, looked just a bit nervous but Flint was pacing up and down the locker room. The team looked as if Flint was about to give some epic speech but he turned to the Slytherin Team. The moment they had all been waiting for.

"Win or there will be consequences," snapped Flint angrily.

"He inspires such hope, does he not," muttered Harry under his breath so no one else could here him.

The Slytherin Team came out, mounting their brooms. The Gryffindor Team did the same on the other end.

"Welcome to the first Quidditch Game of the year," said a black boy with long dreadlocks who was being watched by Professor McGongall closely as if she was expecting him to say something he shouldn't. "First, we have the Gryffindor Team. Spinnet, Johnson, Bell, Weasley, Weasley, Wood, and Hampton."

The Gryffindor Team went out on the pitch, as the Gryffindor Bleachers erupted into cheers.

"Then, the Slytherin Team," said the commentator. "Flint, Mortague, Warrington, Bletchley, Bole, Derrick, and replacing Terrence Higgs at the last moment, due to an unfortunate action, which seems like he may have ticked off the wrong..."

"Lee Jordan, this is your last and only warning," snapped McGonagall. "Do not make groundless accusations about events which you know nothing about. "

"Right, Professor," said Lee. "Anyway, replacing Higgs, Potter."

The Slytherin Side burst into cheers at their team.

Madam Hooch went to the middle of the field, referee for this game. She carried the crate of balls, which would be used for the game.

"Now I want a nice clean game," said Hooch looking at Flint accusingly. "Captains shake hands."

Flint and the Gryffindor Keeper, a burly fifth year named Oliver Wood shook hands. The balls went up in the air and the game began. The Slytherins went straight to the dirty tactics while Harry just hovered in the air, looking for the snitch.

"Cheap shot by Flint, to Angelina Johnson," yelled Lee through the magical megaphone. "The troll..."

"Jordan," snapped McGonagall at Lee. Lee looked sheepish before Flint attempted to throw a Quaffle towards the hoops but Wood caught it.

"Tough luck for the Slytherin Chaser," remarked Lee. "Now, Bell has the Quaffle, who passes it to Spinett who then follows up by passing it to Johnson. Mortague is flying alongside Johnson, poke him in the eye Angelina, it was a joke Professor, a joke. She shoots and she scores. Ten-Zero Gryffindor."

The Slytherins had stepped up their play, managing to fire back by shooting two goals but Wood had blocked a third. The Gryffindors came back, tying the game up. However, this was the least of Harry's concerns. After ducking a bludger from one of the twin Weasleys, it was hard to tell which one from his vantage point; Harry's broom started attacking extremely strange. It lurched forward, attempting to toss him off. Harry had just hung onto it at the last moment. It jerked back and Harry slid back, before the broom started twisting in mid air.

"Hampton has seemed to spot the Snitch!" cried Jordan. "But, I wonder, what is up with Harry Potter's broom."

Harry would have liked to know the answer to that question as well, as it bucked up, attempting to throw Harry off. Twisting in mid air, Harry had inadvertently managed to distract the Gryffindor seeker from catching the snitch. The broom attempted to rocket Harry off but Harry caught himself but it was only a matter of time.

He looked upward. There was the snitch just a bit above him. Harry did something, which would be of Hogwarts lore for years to come, and something, which could be called extremely reckless. The broom bucked one more time but Harry sprung off the broom before he could fall to his doom.

"What in the world?" cried Lee Jordan. "Harry Potter has just leapt into the air, off of his airborne broom."

Leaping over the Gryffindor seeker, Harry grabbed the snitch in his hand before plummeting down towards the ground. It seemed his broom had stopped its aerial show but Harry was going down. Harry fell down onto the ground hard.

"I've got it," said Harry, although in pain clasping the Snitch in his hand. "At great risk, I have caught the Snitch."

Harry winced, pulling himself to his feet, no doubt with a few bruised ribs, which would have had to heal naturally. The ribs had made it hard to breath, but Harry managed to get out under his own power where Daphne, Hermione, and Theodore were waiting for him. Hermione looked frantic.

"Harry Potter, do not ever do that again," said Hermione. "You scared me to death. What possessed you to do that crazy, idiotic stunt in winning a Quidditch Game?"

"Natural masochistic tendencies," offered Theodore.

"The fact Harry has utterly lost his mind being around Theodore and I for the better part of two months," said Daphne. "Anyway, Harry, we have a reason to believe someone was jinxing your broom. It looked like Snape from where we were seeing."

"Snape?" asked Harry. "Snape may be a sarcastic git at times but I do not think he would try and kill me."

"I don't think it is Snape either, Harry," offered Theodore. "Quirrell looked pretty shifty in the teacher's section too."

"Quirrell!" cried Daphne incredulously. "It takes him an entire afternoon to complete a whole sentence."

"What do you think, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"I don't know Harry," said Hermione slowly. "All I could see was Snape looking at you and not blinking. You need eye contact to maintain a jinx and Snape was blinking. From where I could stand, Snape did it."

"Snape did what, Hermione?" asked Hagrid who had just walked up behind the four friends.

"Oh, we were just discussing the finer points of someone killing me," said Harry. "It would not be the first time something like that happened. When I met those Slytherins I nearly got it by that three headed dog."

Hagrid had a shocked look on his face at what Harry had said.

"How do you know abou' Fluffy," said Hagrid.

"Fluffy," said the four friends in unison. How could such a vicious creature have such a cute name?

"Well he has to have a name doesn't he," said Hagrid in a matter of fact way. "He's mine, I bought him off a Greek Chappie."

"What could the purpose be of having a three headed dog in the school?" said Harry. "Anyway, enough about that, can we get back to Snape trying to kill me. Perhaps we could spin him into stealing whatever is on the third floor as well why we are at it."

"Rubbish, why would Snape try to kill you, Harry?" said Hagrid. "He would also not steal anything Dumbledore would try and keep safe," said Hagrid irritably. "Especially the..."

Hagrid stopped short, almost revealing a little more than it should of.

"Yes," asked Harry. "What is Dumbledore hiding in the school? It would not have anything to do with me by any chance, would it?"

"No, Harry, what would give you that idea. Anyway, you four should not be meddlin' in things, which you are not meant to know. What is on that third floor is between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."

Hagrid clapped his hand over his mouth.

"I should not have said that," muttered Hagrid. "I should not have said that."

Harry had a name to go on and it was Nicholas Flamel. He was one step closer of figuring out what exactly Dumbledore was hiding on the third floor. No doubt it was something extremely dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.

A couple of weeks after Hagrid's slip, the four friends were in the Library, looking though books in an attempt to find Nicholas Flamel.

"Nothing," said Theodore looking extremely frustrated. "Not even a word. If we knew what field Flamel specialized in, we could find whatever he did."

Harry snapped a book shut, another big pile of nothing.

"I think we should take a little break," said Harry, shaking his head. "Exactly what we need to add a little interest in making the monotone natural is a good prank."

Hermione shook her head. Her friend had a determined look in her eyes and she knew she would never be able to talk Harry out of pulling a prank on the school.

"Weasley has been asking for it," said Daphne. "All the snide comments he has been making recently."

"No, I do not think we direct our venom on one person," said Harry, shaking his head. "It would be too obvious. A school wide prank seems to be in order, as I need a bit of chaos to offset my recent lack of pizza consumption. Any suggestions?"

Hermione suddenly remembered a book she had found under the cushions of one of the chairs in the Gryffindor common room. Harry had asked his three friends if they ever come across any potion books, Harry would like to see it.

"Harry, I might have something you can use," said Hermione brightly. "I found this in the Gryffindor Common Room one day. It looks a bit old, but it might do the job."

Hermione dug through her bag. Harry was looking excited and Hermione handed Harry the book. Harry looked at it. It looked rather old but flipping though the pages, they still looked in good condition. Glancing at the title it read Simple Potions for Every Day Pranking by Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. It sounded promising. Flipping though the book, Harry's eyes fell on a potion. It looked extremely promising but it would take a week to stew. Harry felt he could wait. Turning the book towards his friends, he showed them in ingredients list.

"Brilliant, this will be great," said Daphne looking as if Christmas had come early but Hermione had a concern.

"Some of these ingredients look like they might not be in the student store cupboard," said Hermione looking worried.

"So, I guess we are going to have borrow some from Professor Snape," remarked Harry. "I am sure he has loads of potion ingredients he never uses and will not miss. After all, he is a Potions Professor."

"If you want to risk your neck breaking into Snape's office, then good luck to you. Especially if you got caught," said Theodore.

"Must you be such a fun-sucker," said Daphne irritably.

"That's my job," responded Theodore as they got up and left the library. Harry wondered how he would slip the potion into someone's drinks. He needed a mercenary. He needed the aid someone who had experience in performing chaos. Harry needed a mercenary who could slip in and out undetected. Harry only had one course of action. He would have to seek out Peeves and hope he would be of help. Smirking, the population of Hogwarts would not know what hit them.

As Daphne, Hermione, Theodore, and Harry walked off, Professor Snape walked up to Harry, looking rather reluctant about what he was about to say but the feeling appeared to pass in a moment.

"Mr. Potter, the Headmaster requires a word with you up in his office immediately," said Snape. "It is located on the second floor, the entrance is behind a stone gargoyle. The password for entrance is Chocolate Frog. Do not delay, the Headmaster insisted you were to come right away."

Snape walked off as Harry wondered why Dumbledore would want to talk to him. Harry could not help but shake the feeling something was not right. He had better go find out what the Headmaster wanted. Telling his friends goodbye, Harry began his walk to Dumbledore's office.

Speaking of the manipulative old coot, Dumbledore was waiting in his office. The day, which he had been plotting for a couple of weeks, now was at hand. Looking at his beloved bowl of lemon drops, he would use them to make sure young Harry Potter was in his proper place. Than Dumbledore's plans could go directly where they should.

Fawkes sat on his perch, looking at the Headmaster, looking as anxious as a bird could possibly be. He hoped young Harry would have the sense not to take any of the Headmaster's tainted lemon drops. The young warrior was too important to fall under the Headmaster's spell, according the ancient prophecy heard by one of the founders Salazar Slytherin nearly a millennium ago. Harry had arrived outside Dumbledore's office. The moment of truth was at hand.