Harry Potter & The Thousand Mysteries

‘Ready?’ Angelina asked the team members, who were sitting in the Quidditch Changing Room, nervously anticipating the start of the match. Their last match against Hufflepuff, had, of course, been a walkover. Gryffindor had triumphed over the poor yellow-robed team. However, this match, as Angelina incessantly reminded them, was going to be harder. This match was going to be against Ravenclaw.

‘GRYFFINDOR!’ Lee Jordan, the seventh year commentator, shouted out across the Quidditch pitch through a magically modified megaphone.

The crowd burst into applause. The Yellow-covered stands, who usually divided themselves between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, didn’t seem to be cheering as hard as usual. As expected, the Slytherins were booing.

They waited for the Ravenclaw team to assemble, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle. The fourteen players plus the referee took to the air.

‘And they’re off!’ Lee’s voice cried, as seven blue shapes and seven red shapes streaked around the pitch.

‘Harry!’ shouted Fred, as a Ravenclaw induced bludger narrowly missed his head.

Harry flew overhead, searching for the snitch. He watched Ron defend the Gryffindor goals amply, while the three Chasers scored in fast succession. Come on, thought Harry, as Gryffindor reached fifty nothing. He needed a quick end to the game- he was tired and worn out after the previous night.

Quick, though, was not what the Fates had predetermined for this match. After an hour solid of flying around the pitch, Gryffindor were two hundred and eighty points to Ravenclaw’s pitiful seventy. Ron was obviously doing his job.

If only I could do mine, thought Harry. There was no sign of the snitch at all. Harry caught Cho Chang’s face, as Gryffindor scored another ten points. She looked tired and confused- neither of them could find their target.

Suddenly, Harry spotted it. The small, golden ball was hovering just three meters below Cho. He flew slowly towards it, trying not to make her realise what he was doing. She did realise though. She looked down, saw the snitch, and looked back up at Harry. Harry nodded, and so did she.

They both flew forwards at the same time. Cho hurtled downwards, as Harry rocketed forwards. The cheers from another Gryffindor goal stopped, as the entire stadium stopped to watch them.

‘AH!’ cried Harry, two seconds too late. He and Cho collided in midair, the snitch trapped between them. The fell towards the muddy ground below.

‘Where is it?’ he croaked. He thought his leg was broken. Cho was lying, crumpled and broken, across his right side.

‘It’s right below me,’ she whispered. ‘It can’t get out. I can feel it buzzing below my back.’

Harry felt the small, delicate magic sports ball bash into the side of his leg, which Cho was lying against.

‘What do we do?’ he asked. He could feel the snitch ricochet off his thigh, and up towards Cho’s back, then off the grass, and back to his thigh.

‘I don’t know!’ she said.

‘Are you two all right?’ Madam Hooch was hurrying across the pitch to them. Harry saw the Gryffindor team out the corner of his eye, standing at the side of the pitch.

‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘The snitch is trapped between us. What should we do?’

‘Don’t move!’ she yelled. ‘Don’t move! Let me consult my rule book!’ She hurried away, out of sight.

‘I suppose we just lie here,’ said Cho. Harry’s leg was killing him, but he was quite enjoying lying beside the beautiful Quidditch player.

‘Harry Potter and Cho Chang are lying on the ground because, wait for it folks!’ Lee Jordan’s magically magnified voice echoed throughout the pitch. ‘The Golden Snitch is encased between them! Madam Hooch, the ref, is at this moment trying to decide what on earth to do!’

Gales of laughter echoed throughout the stands. Harry felt himself go red. He knew Cho was too, but he was too scared to turn his head and see, lest the Snitch find some way to escape.

‘Harry!’ The Gryffindor team came over to see him. Harry saw the Ravenclaw team as well on the other side. Everyone had massive grins on their faces and was laughing.

‘I don’t believe it!’ Ron was near to collapsing with laughter. Harry saw hundreds of pupils stream down from the stands and onto the pitch. As they trampled across the grounds towards them, Harry felt the vibrations rise through his body.

‘Back, you’ll trample us!’ shouted Cho, as the many quidditch fans pressed around them. Harry saw Hermione, with her anxious expression and bushy brown eyes peering over some second years heads.

‘Are you two all right?’ enquired Professor McGonagall, as she and Professor Dumbledore pushed their way to the front. Both had grins on their faces it looked like they were trying to suppress.

‘I think I broke my arm,’ said Harry. Dumbledore’s moustache quivered.

‘Ow!’ cried Cho. ‘Watch it! Some idiot just stood on my hand!’

The crowd parted suddenly, and Madam Hooch came barging through, her nose deep in a thick black book.

‘What do we do?’ asked Harry.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Let me read this.’ She sat down on the grass, flicking through the thick book.

Slowly, the minutes passed. The crowd of spectators began to dwindle, especially as lunch neared. When the time finally came for lunch, everyone, even the teams and teachers, left, leaving Madam Hooch and Cho, sprawled across the grass beside Harry.

‘I can’t find a single thing!’ said Madam Hooch, for the thirtieth time. They had been sitting on the grass for two hours. Harry would have found it funny if it he wasn’t covered from head to foot in a dull ache.

‘Can’t we just get up and resume play?’ asked Cho.’

‘NO!’ cried Madam Hooch. ‘What if we did that, and I read later on that it meant giving ninety points to each team, there would have to be a rematch, and…’

She stopped, as a very loud rumble of thunder broke through the air.

‘Oh no!’ said Harry. ‘Oh please no.’

He shut his eyes as he saw huge drops of rain hurtle towards him from the cloudy skies.

‘Ah!’ shrieked Cho, as she was drenched in the downpour. Harry felt the cold raindrops drip right through his thin, silken quidditch robes, and onto his already cold skin. Beneath them, the snitch was as dry as ever.

‘Tentanus!’ said Madam Hooch, and a sheet of canvas appeared over her.

‘WHAT!?’ shouted Harry and Cho simultaneously.

‘You can’t leave us to soak!’ shouted Cho indignantly.

‘Give us some!’ said Harry, compelling the canvas sheet towards him.

‘I don’t think I can make much more,’ she said. ‘Tentanus!’ A sheet of canvas flew from her wand and over Harry and Cho, but after a few seconds it disintegrated, covering them with lots of wet threads.

‘Sorry! I need to keep the book dry! It’s a limited edition!’

‘Bloody hell,’ said Harry. ‘I don’t believe this- Ravenclaw can have the points- we’ll still win. Just let us get back up to the castle…’

‘You stay right where you are,’ snarled Madam Hooch. ‘In thirty years of refereeing Hogwarts Quidditch Matches, there’s not a single problem I haven’t been able to solve. And if maintaining my record means you two having to get a bit wet, then so be it!’

Harry recoiled mentally from Madam Hooch. She had always struck him as a nice person. Why was she behaving so obsessively? It’s only a game, he thought stubbornly.

‘Well, I don’t care,’ he said. Normally, he would have cooperated, but he was too wet, too tired, too cold, and had a broken arm. He simply wasn’t in the mood to lie in soaking wet mud to keep a stupid ball trapped. (I can’t I just thought that, he thought to himself. Quidditch is the only thing I’m good at!)

‘Stonus Victimus!’ shouted Madam Hooch, and Harry had the horrific experience of watching his skin dry up and turn to stone.

‘MMM!’ he mumbled through his stony mouth. He was a statue! An actual statue! Madam Hooch could leave him here for a thousand years, and he would still be made of stone. Of course, inside, his heart was beating and air was still getting in through his nostrils, but he was so angry at Madam Hooch!

‘I’m sorry, Potter,’ she said, ‘but you left me no choice. I know I might seem crazy, but I have to do this right. I just have to. I’ll unstone you if you promise not to get up.’

‘Mmm!’ Harry mumbled. He meant to say okay.

‘Is that a yes?’ she asked.

‘Mmm! Mmm Mmm mmm!’

‘Finite Incantatem!’ Moisture returned to Harry’s skin, as he lay motionless on the ground.

‘She’s gone crazy,’ whispered Cho. ‘Just don’t move.’

‘I’m not crazy,’ replied the referee. ‘Just determined.’

So the three of them sat, in the middle of the pouring rain, not moving at all when perfectly safe and warm shelter was no more than one hundred meters away, and all in the name of sport.

‘Harry, you’re still here?’ asked Ron, as he and Hermione walked up to them. The rain had stopped overnight, and Harry had fallen asleep. When he had awoken, he had found his face in the middle of a Puddle of Mudd.

‘Yes, I’m bloody well still here!’ he fumed. ‘I wish I’d never heard of the fucking snitch!’

Ron and Hermione collapsed about in hysterics.

‘It’s not bloody funny!’ said Harry. ‘It was pouring last night!’

Hermione and Ron clung to each other in their nice clean, freshly laundered robes, still in gales of laughter.

‘Aha!’ cried Madam Hooch. ‘Here we are!

‘In the event of the snitch being in any way inaccessible to either of the seekers, such as it becoming lodged inside a small hole or being accidentally swallowed, then both competing teams must face each other in a mass wizards duel on broomsticks. Every player from both teams must compete, or be faced with expulsion, and double the original number of points, namely three hundred and sixty points, shall be given to the team of the last man flying. We hope you enjoyed searching for this article.’

Harry, Ron, Cho, Hermione and Madam Hooch stood in silence, waiting to see what the others would say.

‘Granger, summon the Headmaster, there shall be a mass duel at Hogwarts!’

‘And so, as the team players encircle the stadium, like a crowd of vultures, the spectators in the stands await what will surely be the most exciting end to a quidditch match seen in Hogwarts for a very long time!’ Lee Jordan, was, as usual, giving the warm up commentary to the match.

From his position high above the ground, Harry followed Angelina’s lead, and began to circle the pitch. As he looked all around him, he saw the other quidditch players circling, all at different levels, all with different degrees of anxiety and nervousness on their faces.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, the esteemed Referee, MAD MAN MADAM HOOCH!’

‘Jordan…’ said Professor McGonagall’s stern voice from behind the magical megaphone, but she was drowned by the cheers, which greeted the referee.

‘On my whistle, you may begin!’ she shouted to the players, still circling, like gulls on a thermal. ‘No illegal curses, and nothing that could seriously injure.’ She raised her whistle to her lips, and blew.

‘Stonus Victimus!’ shouted Harry, pointing towards a Ravenclaw Chaser. As soon as the spell had left his wand, he dived sharply downwards, to avoid any curses.

As he dived, he saw other players dive as well.

‘Kana’ak!’ he shouted, pointing his wand at the opposing Keeper. He fell off his broom and onto the cushioned grass.

Half the players, on both teams, had been felled in one burst of incantations. Harry sped upwards, surveying the scene. Cho, Ron, Alicia, Fred, and other Ravenclaw’s had survived.

‘Malasha!’ he shouted at one of the Ravenclaws, who screamed at the curse hit him. He continued to screech as he rocketed towards the ground like a pile of lead.

‘Jonlande!’ he said, his wand trained on Cho. By accident, he missed, and hit a spectator instead. The Slytherin first year yelped, and cried; as she felt her hands turn into cat’s paws, useless for holding wands and brooms.

‘Stupefy!’ shouted Cho, pointing her wand at Harry, but she missed. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron be hit on the back of the neck with a Ravenclaw curse, and slip off his broom.

‘There are only three Gryffindors and three Ravenclaws!’ shouted Lee.

‘Kinao!’ shouted Harry. There was an explosion, as every other player fired a curse.

Harry was temporarily blinded in the smoke that filled the stadium, and when he regained his vision, he saw only Cho still on her broom.

Harry began to whisper a curse Hermione had taught him as self-defence when they were studying in the Library. Quirrell had used the curse on him in first year.

Cho clung to her bucking broom for dear life, as Harry whispered continued to recite the incantation harder than ever under his breath.

‘Malasha!’ shouted Cho. Harry swerved just in time, as the curse grazed his elbow.

‘Chauve-Souris Infestat!’ A swarm of bats erupted from Harry’s wand, and headed for Cho. She screamed, and dived to avoid them. Instead, they ended up in the crowd of the Ravenclaws she had been standing been front of.

‘Nitratel,’ she screeched, and a single, massive bat burst from her wand tip, and flew straight for Harry, it’s wings bared.

‘Ah!’ he cried, and dived. The bat ended up in the Gryffindor stand. He heard the teachers fire twenty stunning spells on his right.

‘Give up, Harry!’ she shouted across at him. Some blue sparks burst from her wand.

‘Never!’ he shouted. ‘Serpensortia!’ The massive snake flew, rocket-like, straight for Cho. Of course, it missed her, and fell to the grass.

‘Valendras!’ she shouted. This curse found its destination, at hit Harry on the side. He winced, as pain blossomed down his back.

‘STUPEFY!’ he cried, as he landed on his feet. He watched, an immovable chunk of wood, as Cho plummeted and fell to earth. She landed with a thud, out cold.

‘I’m still standing!’ he shouted. Although the pain in his side was crippling, Harry ground his jaws together, and remained standing. He looked around him, and saw the thirteen other players lying in different positions on the ground, each looking suitably terrified.

‘Potter is the winner!’ shouted Madam Hooch! ‘Three Hundred and sixty points to Gryffindor!’ The red stands exploded with applause and cheers. Harry fell to the ground, as the teachers on hand rushed down to start performing the counter curses.

‘Uh,’ said Ron, limping over to him. ‘You won!’

‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘Now I’m going to bed!’

He walked into the changing rooms, and up to his warm bed, which he hadn’t seen for what felt like a thousand years. As he entered the Entrance Hall, he saw Cho Chang make her exit from the pitch.

‘Well done, Harry!’ she shouted.

‘Same to you!’ he shouted back. ‘You were a pretty tough opponent.’

‘How do I compare to the Dark Lord?’ she asked, smiling.

‘You both have the same glint in your eyes.’

Cho laughed. ‘See you later, Harry!’ She went off down a stairway, as Harry walked off up the marble staircase.

***

‘Now, as I said, you all done very well at the last Simulation, but the teachers were going easy on you.’ Professor Janney was debriefing the class following the second Simulation.

‘So, the next Simulation will take place between now and the end of the Easter holidays. You will know nothing about it until it happens, you will have no aids except those which you secure for yourselves, you will receive no tuition, but will have to research your own curses and spells, and, above all, you will have no warning when the Simulation will take place. You are being pushed in the deep end here, folks. The teachers, given your previous successes, have deemed it appropriate that you move to the next level. Professor Dumbledore and myself will be meeting tomorrow to prepare our strategy for the Simulation- you will have no such luxury of practice- unless there are any Seers in the class.’

‘Professor?’ Dean raised his hand.

‘Yes, Dean?’

‘Will the teachers be trying to attack us?’

‘You mean will they be working to the best of their ability? The answer is, of course, no. The Hogwarts staff and the thirty three Aurors are the only things standing between Voldemort and everything else at present. To expect some fifth years, highly talented though you all are to beat them would be ridiculous. The teachers will be lenient on you all, although less so than last time.’

‘Even Snape?’ asked Ron.

‘Yes of course!’ said Professor Janney. ‘Why wouldn’t he be lenient? He is a very talented dueller, you know.’

‘So when will it be?’ asked Hermione, ignoring Professor Janney’s compliment to the Potions Professor. ‘In the middle of a class? At the weekend? You need to give us some help!’

‘Quite the contrary,’ said Professor Janney smugly. ‘I need give you no help at all. Indeed, the fact that I am even telling you this is going to happen gives you a lead you wouldn’t have in real life situations. It’s going to be a complete surprise, you know.’

‘That is so mean!’ said Lavender.

‘It is indeed,’ agreed Janney, ‘but as I have already told you, that, my dear, is life!’