The Centaur's Shrine

Chapter 17 - Quidditch

Hogwarts,

"Yours is exactly the kind of arrogant attitude that needs to be changed," said Hermione to the sullen faced boy. His robes identified him as a Ravenclaw, and the quality of the cloth, and some discrete jewelry marked him as coming from a wealthy family. It was plain that he was more angry than repentant, but few younger students had the guts to stand up to the Gryffindor prefect.

Ron rolled his eyes, and Draco sighed loudly, while Harry wished, for the umpteenth time, that his girlfriend would learn not to overhear some things. They couldn't even interfere directly because it was a prefect matter. Hermione had just caught some spoiled fifth year boast that his parents had promised him a personal House Elf if he did well on his OWLs. The boy had gotten a lecture on the merit of academic excellence, and the need to show proper respect toward magical minorities.

Such a reaction from Hermione, with Draco or Ron being the most recurrent targets, had happened before, but it had become much more frequent in the last few days, and when she wasn't hell bent on reforming everyone, she would be withdrawn and lost in her thoughts. It was the most visible demonstration that the easygoing harmony they had shared during the vacation had all but disappeared. Harry didn't think that Hermione was still incensed about what had happened at the Auror ceremony, but she had told him about sending the FOM documents to Bones, and he guessed that part of her problem was that no answer was coming back, and she was worried. In the beginning, he had endeavored to be as accommodating as possible, but nothing seemed to soothe her, and she reacted angrily to any suggestion that she should take things less at heart. Now he would just try to wait it out.

Most of their disagreements concerned the future of the association and what Draco and Ginny's friends could be planning to do with the Ministry. Draco was usually willing to debate, if only to hone his own skills and arguments, but it generally turned into a dialogue of the deaf as Hermione would presuppose a moral stand and refuse most utilitarian compromises. At that point, Ron or Ginny would lose patience and let go of some remark which would break up the discussion in disarray. Luna was watching all this with sadness, but she didn't attempt to take a direct part in their exchanges, which she found too brutal and frustrating.

Politics wasn't the only subject which set their nerves on edge. In addition to the increased amount of classes, and the coming OWLs for Ginny and Luna, the Quidditch Cup was another cause for tension. In the week before the game, both teams trained assiduously. The atmosphere was electric and there were a number of serious clashes concerning the right of access to the Quidditch practice. Ron accused the Slytherins of hogging the terrain and restricting Gryffindor's training time. The Slytherins in turn claimed that the other Houses were trying to spy on them. Everybody wanted to see Draco's broom but he refused to have any witnesses present, outside of his team, when he was flying it. In the end, Dumbledore agreed to place a full shielding screen over the field, and a strict timetable was drawn up. Exceptionally, homework was reduced to a minimum - actually it was rescheduled for the next week - so that the players wouldn't have to choose between working or practicing. If that had been the case, the teachers hadn't much doubt about what the choice would be.

Harry, Ron and Ginny also discussed endlessly the probable characteristics of the new broom, and how they could hope to counter it.

"It's going to be a special Seeker model," said Ron. "That means speed or maneuverability, probably both."

"What could be the downside for that?" asked Ginny. She had warned Draco not to speak a word about it until after the match. She would play this one strictly for Gryffindor, and likewise, tell him nothing about their plans. It made for some awkward moments, but that was the price to pay for being on opposite sides, and they knew it was only temporary.

"Reduced resistance and stability I guess. It might be a very light broom." He looked at Harry. "At high speed, it could mean less control, and he would also be vulnerable at close range."

"You mean that if I crash against him, I can throw him off course?" said Harry.

"Yeah but that's a foul, and you don't want that. I was thinking more of close hazing, or a Bludger. If we can hit him with one, he'll be toast." Ginny shot him a hard look, and he raised his hand to stop her. "Hey, it's part of the game okay? You think that they're not going to aim for Harry?"

It was plain that she didn't like it. She made a face but finally let it go. Broken bones could be repaired, and permanent injuries were rare in school games. Still, she hoped it wouldn't go too far.

"I think I've got an idea," said Harry, "but we're going to have to practice it." He turned toward Ginny. "Here's what we're going to do. You take my broom and I'll use yours. It should give you a comparable edge to what I'll be facing during the match. Now the idea I have ..."

He explained what he had in mind, and Ron's face lit up. Even Ginny had to smile as she visualized the maneuver. Yes, it would be a nice counter against Draco's secret weapon, and pretty spectacular too.

The evening before the game, Hermione was in a fouler mood than usual, and Harry didn't want to go back to the common room. She would certainly have gone up to her dormitory, while Ginny and Ron would be half angry and half apologetic. It had happened enough before, and he was sick and tired of it. Instead, he walked down along the corridors thinking about how stupid it all was. Wishing for things to be different made him think of a particular place, and an interesting idea came into his mind.

Retracing his steps, he walked up to the entrance of the Room of requirement, stopped and closed his eyes in concentration, thinking as clearly as he could on what he wanted. When it seemed right he opened the door and nodded approvingly at the sight before him.

I don't know who of the Four conceived that room, but he certainly knew his stuff.

He corrected himself. Maybe it had been one of the witches. Rowena Ravenclaw was a good candidate for such a clever creation. It didn't matter. The room was now enormous and completely featureless, except for a Golden Snitch flying around in the vast space. The walls were of a dull grey color, and the small ball was perfectly visible wherever it went. It was buzzing furiously, trying to find places to hide, but there weren't any. Finding it would be easy enough, but that wasn't his purpose this time, at least not with his eyes. Harry cast a silencing charm in the room and the buzzing sound disappeared. He closed his eyes again and voided his mind of any thoughts.

He didn't know if it could work, but he remembered reading that Roderick Plumpton, one of the most famous Seeker of all time, had shown in his later years an uncanny ability to divine where the Snitch was before anybody else could see it. He had been so successful that the International Quidditch Federation had banned him from all competition, when his team started to win every game in less than a few minutes.

The Snitch was temper proof, but what if there really was a way to detect it? He was determined to try. In tomorrow's match, the odds were pretty much balanced. The slightest advantage could make the difference between victory and defeat, hence this unusual experiment.

Eyes closed, he pictured the little golden ball in his mind. He concentrated on every distinctive aspects of it. The shape and color, its sculptured surface, the vibrating wings. He did this for a moment then, changing his mental focus, he considered the space around him. He imagined himself as a compass needle floating in the air, the center of a reference system. In his mind, the world was organized into Front, Back, Right and Left. He alternated between the two mental attitudes, consciously trying to bring them together and divine where the Snitch could be relative to him, but he felt nothing special.

There's got to be a way to do this.

Of course he had never tried anything comparable before. He was simply hoping that it would just work out, like well magic. He realized that he should have known better. There was logic and knowledge even in such things. Hermione, or Dumbledore could have helped him, but both of them would certainly refuse to do so, it was clearly cheating after all. He was beginning to think it was a fool's errand when, with a sudden insight, he recalled the Point me spell. It was the closest kind of magic to what he was trying to do, maybe it could help. He concentrated on silently speaking the actual incantation in his mind.

Point me ... point me ...

After a while, he could feel a vague pull in one direction. By default the spell aligned a wizard's wand to the north. He turned toward the pull and opened his eyes. He was now facing one of the walls. A quick glance showed him where the door was, and if he had any doubt, a large red and white compass needle was displayed on the floor, compliment of the Room answering to his desire. With a rush of excitement he realized that he had effectively aligned himself with the magnetic north.

It's working! At least I'll be able to find my way without a wand again. Now all I need is to use the Snitch as a target.

He could also see the golden speck, flying across the room, stopping in place for a few seconds, then darting away again. He closed his eyes once again and this time he adjusted the Point me spell to refer to the Snitch. It was illegal to use a wand in Quidditch, it was listed as one of the possible fouls, but nothing was said about wandless magic.

Nothing happened for a while, until he got a very subtle tug on his left. He tried to concentrate on it, but it quickly disappeared. Then later, he got another tug, this time behind him.

It's moving and stopping. I can probably only sense it when it's immobile.

He waited for the next tug and immediately turned and opened his eyes. The fluttering ball was right in front of him. A shiver of excitation ran through him as he realized that he had done it. He had found a way to detect the Snitch without his eyes.

He tried it several times more and found that it did indeed work pretty well, although not systematically. He would have to see how it worked on the field, but he now had an edge which could help him win tomorrow. Harry briefly wondered if it also meant that he would probably never be able to play as Seeker again. It certainly would be the case if his secret was found out, but he felt it was safe enough. He would only use it this one time, and he could always play Chaser if it came to that.

He also discovered something else. If he concentrated a little too long upon the ball, it would zip away at such speed that it practically disappeared from his sight. He wondered if it was a defense mechanism, some innate protection against the kind of magic he was using. It was frustrating because it kept him from perfectly pinpointing the direction. In the field it would probably mean that he would have to fly toward it and acquire it by sight. Still, he had something, and maybe he could even find a use for this particular effect.

He came out of the Room of Requirement with a triumphant grin on his face. Draco might have the best broom in the world, but now he had something up his sleeve as well.

- - -

The game was scheduled in the early afternoon. Words had gotten out, probably by Sir Comil's doing, and the VIP stand was packed full with outside visitors. It was a tight fit, even with a special enlargement spell. Severus had made good on his promise, and he had collected Helen from London. She remembered the basic of Floo travel, although as a Muggle, she still required someone to accompany her. Richard and Alicia were happy to see her, even if they were much more excited by the coming match. Both of them had turned into broom enthusiasts, and they were impatient to be in second year so that they could participate in the tryouts.

The teams gathered in their respective lockers. The Slytherin players were looking expectantly at Draco, any lingering thoughts of rivalry displaced by the overriding sense of solidarity which came before any game. Wilhelm had done a good job, and they were all keyed up and ready to give everything to wrestle the Cup from the Gryffindors. All of them had seen Draco demonstrate some impressive maneuvers with his new broom. He still didn't control it as well as he could, but there was no doubt that it would be the fastest thing on the field today. It didn't have an official name but they had taken to calling it the Firestreak because, at full power, it actually left a visible contrail-like trace in the air.

In the Gryffindor locker, the players were even more nervous. They were the incumbent after all, and they would be facing an unknown quantity. The only thing they could be sure of was that the Slytherins would not give them any break. To make matters worse, several experienced players had left, Angelina, Fred and George in particular. Ron knew that good Beaters where the best possible support for Harry. They would have to make do with Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke who had been on the team for some time, but who were not in their class. In addition to Angelina, he also had to replace Alicia Spinnet as Chaser. They now had Ginny and Katie Bell and a promising, but still inexperienced, third year as Chasers.

Harry had a determined expression on his face as he adjusted his heavy padded robe. He made sure that all straps were tight, but that he could still move properly. When it was done, he started to do some stretches.

"Harry?" He turned around and saw Ginny sitting on the bench across from him. Her face was serious, almost grim.

"Yeah?"

"I know you want to win but ... please be careful."

"For me or for him?" he replied with a feral grin.

"For both." He started to protest but she cut him off. "I mean it. Don't try to pull something too dangerous if ..."

"... we're losing," he finished. She nodded. He made a carefree gesture. "Come on. It's a just a game."

"That's right Harry," she said seriously. "It's just a game, and both of you are more important than any game. Just keep it in mind."

He looked at her, touched by her concern. She'd been bothered by the arguments of the last days. She and Hermione had once been very close, but since the start of the term, they'd been drifting away from each other because of this. He stood up and walked toward her. She rose as well, and he placed his hand against her neck.

"Don't worry about it, little sister," he whispered. "It's going to be all right."

She pressed her face against his hand and nodded. He gave her a quick pat and pulled away.

"Let's get on with it," he said. "I'm counting on you to beat your scoring record. You're a good Chaser. Make us proud."

She gave him a brave little smile. He gripped her hand, cross fashion like warriors, or sportsmen, did in the movies. Her smile strengthened into something more cheerful. She lifted her new broom, Draco's old one, and they took their place with the rest of the team. Harry moved next to Ron and winked at his friend.

"Harry," said Ron under his breath. "You remember what Oliver used to say?"

"'Catch the Snitch or die trying'," replied Harry, grinning. "Yeah, I remember it pretty well."

"Well," Ron stole a quick glance at Ginny. He'd followed their conversation. "I'm not going to say it, but -"

"Don't worry mate," said Harry calmly. "I have a good feeling about this one."

Ron looked at him, swallowed and nodded. Then he remembered that he was the captain. He turned toward the rest of the team.

"Okay guys, er, and girls. I just want to tell you that, well, this is an important match and, uh, I'm really counting on you." He thought he saw an expression of disgust on Kirke's face, and he hated himself for being so lame with his speeches. Dammit! Harry was lame too in the beginning but he learned. I'll learn, even if it kills me.

He turned away from looking at Kirke. The older boy still hadn't forgiven the power play at the start of the year. He glanced at Harry who gave him back a confident smile. I made him feel better and he went on with a more determined voice.

"Outside that door everyone will be looking at us. Gryffindor House will be looking at us. Let's play our best. We did some good training together. Just remember the moves we practiced. We can do this people!"

He saw resolve on their faces, and he hoped some of it came from his words. Raising his arm, he held his broom high.

"We won the last game. We can win again today. WHAT DO YOU SAY?"

They cheered, even Kirke, and he was relieved. He looked at each of them in turn, doing his best to pump them full of the energy he was feeling. The bell rang, and they got ready to mount their brooms. The doors opened, making them blink as the light of day momentarily blinded them. The Gryffindors flew out in formation, welcomed by the cheering of the crowd. They made a full turn of the field and took their position on their starting side. Dennis Creevey was giving the running commentary while his brother was juggling with cameras and Omniculars to follow and capture the action.

"And Gryffindor is flying out now," said Dennis as excitedly as usual. "Merlin, they're beautiful if you'll allow me to say so. It's a great sunny day, with the best weather we could hope for, except for the cold of course. You'd think that they could put a warming charm on these seats, most of us are freezing their-" he broke off as McGonagall threw him a warning look, "- ah, extremities. Anyway, here we have Ronald Weasley, the Gryffindor Keeper leading his team around the stadium." He gave the name and position of every member, his voice rising as he saved the Seeker for last.

"... and finally Harry Potter as Seeker, riding his famed Firebolt. Both of them will be taxed to the limit today as you must all now."

The second bell rang and the doors of the other team's locker opened as the green and silver formation flew out.

"And here comes Slytherin! They're led by Wilhelm Dalmy and, like every last one of you, I've been dying to see that mysterious new broom that their Seeker, Draco Malfoy, will be using for the first time. It's supposed to be the latest model from Nimbus Flyware, and you may have noticed that Sir Comil himself has made the trip to see it in action. Welcome among us Sir, and our heartfelt thanks for giving us this fantastic opportunity."

Slytherin was making its first turn when Draco separated from the group and took the broom into a steep climbing trajectory across the length of the field. He shot up with an incredible acceleration and made an inverted loop above them before coming down. The crowd gasped in surprise and delight at the impressive maneuver. A thin contrail marked his path and left an upside down tear drop shape in the air. He rejoined his team under the wild cheering and enthusiastic clapping of the spectators. Sir Comil looked delighted.

"Did you see THAT!" screamed Dennis. "Oh Merlin, did you see that, boys and girls? What a broom! I'm telling you that we're going to see a fantastic game today, and even though Harry Potter has the most impressive Snitch catching record in Hogwarts memory, he's going to have a tough time beating that!"

Ron and Harry looked at each other and certainly agreed with that assertion. Draco's broom made the Firebolt look positively sluggish. Ron swallowed a lump and tried to look more confident than he felt. Harry was staring hard at Draco, and at how he was controlling his new ride. He was determined to find, and profit from, any flaw he could find.

Madam Hooch signaled the Captains to come to her, and the rest of the players took their positions. Ron saw that Wilhelm had an infuriating smirk all over his face. He did his best not to look flustered and made a point of touching down slowly and as serenely as he could. The referee made the two boys shake hands, and Ron couldn't help blinking as he saw Draco do another fantastic loop in the air.

"I hope you've polished the Cup properly, Weasley," said the Slytherin. "We want it to look sharp on professor Snape's desk tonight."

"It's not there yet, Dalmy," replied Ron. "And it'll take more than ballerina moves by your pretty boy to take it from us." He wished he felt as assured as his words.

Madam Hooch called them to order. She released the balls and threw the Quaffle in the air.

"And it's started folks," said Dennis talking at full speed. "The Quaffle is for Gryffindor, Ginny Weasley's running on with it. Watch out for that Bludger. Oh, close call that one, but she's coming in for a pass ..."

Draco and Harry had both flown high above the fray and they circled each other warily, watching out for the Snitch and for the other's moves. Draco was not flying very much faster than he was, but Harry saw that the other boy was able to make much sharper turns than him, in addition to that fantastic acceleration.

Fast and maneuverable. Just like we thought. I bet he could catch up with me in no time if I made a run at the Snitch.

He wanted to get a better feel for the Firestreak's capabilities. The best way for that would be to feint and analyze the response. Draco would expect him to see the Snitch first. It would be a good tactic for the Slytherin to let him flush it out, and then overrun him to catch the prize.

Harry suddenly banked left and aimed at one corner of the field. Dennis' voice picked up in excitement.

"It looks like Harry saw something. He's running fast toward the southeast wall and Draco's in hot pursuit. Oh Merlin! What an acceleration!"

Harry heard the screaming sound of Draco catching up behind him. He deliberately didn't push the Firebolt as fast as he could, so he expected to be bypassed, but the speed with which Draco flew by was incredible. It was clear that if he ever saw the Snitch before Harry, the match would be over without a chance. The other boy pulled up as he approached the wall and saw no trace of his quarry. Harry followed his movements carefully, and he could see that there was a slight wobble as the broom decelerated.

That's interesting. I bet he's actually handicapped after a fast streak like that.

He was so absorbed by the examination that he almost missed the Bludger coming at him from his right side. A sharp yell from Sloper warned him and he evaded the missile only by a few inches. Both of them moved away and regained altitude. Harry could see Draco throwing him a dark look after that feint.

Harry tried it once more, and this time he managed to get away to a good distance as Draco tried to recover the control of his broom. It made him shiver with excitement. He now had a possible tactic. If he saw the Snitch, he could probably feint away and come back for it before Draco could catch him at it. It was risky, but it could work. He figured that if the Beaters could throw a couple of Bludgers in the other Seeker's direction at the same time, it would be even better. He flew quickly next to Sloper and explained this in a few words. The other boy nodded and went to pass the word on to Kirke.

Harry stabilized his trajectory and attempted the previous night's trance to feel for the Snitch's position. It was much more difficult than in the Room Of Requirement, and during that time he couldn't look at what Draco was doing, so he could only do it for a few seconds.

I've got to keep him guessing.

The next minutes passed in wild flying as Harry would cruise and feint in several directions. Draco was on him like a fly. Twice, Harry sensed the Snitch and looked for an adequate feint to play, but each time it was too chancy to try. The third time however he took his chance and rushed right over Draco, flying in the opposite direction of the Snitch. The Slytherin Seeker turned around and followed in hot pursuit. Harry had also noted that, even thought the Firestreak was much better than his own broom in level flying or in a climb, the difference was not so pronounced in a dive, where the greater mass of the Firebolt was an advantage for him. When he estimated that Draco was right behind him and he banked brutally and dived straight down, right over the Hufflepuff stands, the other boy followed with some delay, and Harry heard the screams of fright from the students who now saw the two Seekers coming down on them like Stukas. He ignored them and looked hard for the Snitch.

It should be somewhere to the left.

He tried desperately to find it, but he lost some precious seconds doing this. When he finally saw it, he also heard a triumphant cry from behind him, and he knew that Draco had seen it too. Damn! Damn! Both boys pushed their brooms to the limit, but the Firestreak was gaining, and then they had to pull up to a level flight, which further neutralized what little edge he still had in speed. Draco passed him and extended his hand. The Snitch was less than 15 meters away, and he was closing fast. Harry was horrified at seeing him getting ready to catch it. He remembered what he had discovered the previous night, and he focused of the ball like he had in the Room.

I see you. I know where you are.

He didn't know if the Snitch could understand but, just before contact, it zipped to the side and the other boy missed it by an inch. A tremendous scream of frustration rose from the ranks of the Slytherins. Draco did an incredible short skidding turn and tried to follow it, with Harry right behind, but the Snitch was now nowhere to be found, and they had to accept that the golden ball had successfully escaped.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dennis was standing up and exulting in the mike, "I can't believe it, but the race is still on! Draco almost had it in his hand, and the devilish Snitch jumped away like a demon possessed thing. But we've seen how fantastic that Firestreak is. It's not a broom, ladies and gentlemen, it's a bloody rocket!"

"Language, Mister Creevey," snapped McGonagall.

"Sorry professor. I got carried away, but surely anybody would at seeing such magnificent flying."

The rest of the players had not been idle. Katie Bell and Ginny had taken the Quaffle and with a blindingly fast set of passes they traversed the ranks of the Slytherin defense, which had relaxed their vigilance during Draco's missed attempt, and Katie scored once more. It was now 40 to 20 for Gryffindor.

Draco was trembling with rage and frustration, but he forced himself to think clearly. He had figured out Harry's tactic by now, and he understood that he could not let it continue. He was tiring fast, these lightning accelerations were murder on his arm muscles, and it was getting more and more difficult to control the broom afterwards.

I'll just stay near and behind and follow him wherever he goes. One thing he can't do is escape me.

That would allow him to rest and concentrate on finding the cursed Snitch. He did this, and Harry soon found that it was quite effective. Not only was it very unsettling, but whenever he attempted a change of direction, Draco would catch up in a second, and from behind him, he could see everywhere he could.

Harry tried several desperate maneuvers to shake him, which drew screams of fear and delight from the spectators, but Draco was able to use his superior characteristics to match him move for move. Worse, the Gryffindor beaters couldn't even help him anymore because they had as much chance to hit him as the other Seeker. Ron ordered them to concentrate on the Slytherin Chasers and Keeper. The game was once more played on two independent levels, scoring and seeking.

Ginny had the Quaffle once more and found her path blocked by Goyle who was getting ready to beat a Bludger right at her. Fortunately, Ron had imagined a neat trick for just that situation. She threw the Quaffle at the Slytherin just as the Bludger was coming. The big boy saw the two missiles coming up toward him, and his limited mind overloaded while he pondered what to do. In automatic reflex, he batted away at the larger ball, just when the smaller, and heavier, one caught him in the stomach.

"Umph!" he said as he doubled over and lost interest in the game for a while. Katie recovered the Quaffle and flew toward the goals.

"That must have hurt," said Dennis, with no trace of sympathy in his voice. "Great play by Katie Bell, she feints and - score!" He screamed. "It's now 50 to 20 for Gryffindor."

For a time, all the action was for the Chasers, Beaters and Keepers. Gryffindor was scoring well at first, but Slytherin gradually began to catch up. Time was running against the former as their younger Chasers were tiring faster that the older Slytherins, and Harry was still effectively trapped by Draco.

The score ran on to a 110 - 110 tie. Ginny had the Quaffle once again and passed it to Katie who started another attack run, and then a hard Bludger struck against the center of her broom which broke cleanly in two. The unfortunate Chaser fell down, thankfully not from too high, but Dalmy recovered the Quaffle and profited from a lapse in Ron's attention to score for Slytherin who took the lead, 120 to 110. Exultant shouts rose from the Slytherin ranks and Harry was now seriously worried. With one less Chaser they were not going to hold out for long.

Time for the trump card.

He had practiced the move with Ginny but it was incredibly delicate. However he thought it was the last chance he had. He waited until he had a good sense of where Draco was exactly, behind him, above and to his left, and then suddenly he banked left and rolled as fast as he could, all the while slowing down and climbing toward the other Seeker.

Gotcha!

He was now almost against the other boy, just in front of him and lying on his side, stabilized by the centrifugal force. Draco braked to keep from hitting him, and banked left as well, in an attempt to evade. Normally in such circumstances the two players would fly away from each other so as to recover some freedom of movement, but Harry kept on turning and slowing in front of Draco, forcing him to do the same. The crowd gasped in astonishment as the two brooms danced around each other at full speed.

"What are they doing now?" said Dennis. "Ladies and gentlemen, I told you that this was going to a game to remember, but it's now way over anything in my young but intense experience. Do you see that? I'm queasy just looking at them."

Harry's movement transformed into a corkscrew maneuver which was extremely disorientating, but even more so for the Slytherin. Harry had the initiative, and so he could handle better the wild rotations of the universe around him, Draco had to follow or crash against the other, which would be a foul for him. Suddenly Harry pulled out of the roll and flew away. He immediately tried to detect the Snitch while stabilizing his flight. Draco flew off as well, but almost directly away from him. The two brooms raced away from each other in straight lines as their pilots tried to recover from the murderous merry-go round. Harry turned slowly right and was rewarded by a pull in the general direction of the center of the field. He blinked his eyes and searched desperately for the flash of gold. There! It was right between them, but closer to him. He turned toward it and launched the Firebolt to the maximum it could do.

Draco had seen it as well and was rushing toward Harry and the Snitch at full speed as well. They were flying straight at each other and everybody could see the Snitch right over the field. Screams of horror were heard from a few students, and then many more, as they realized that the two Seekers were heading for a head on collision.

Like Draco, Harry had his arm extended and he thought of only one thing. The Snitch. The danger of hitting his friend was something he pushed out of his mind.

Nobody plays chicken with a Gryffindor!

He was going to catch the damn thing or die trying. He didn't even think about causing it to disappear once more. The game would be over in a few seconds and that was that.

Draco was thinking the same thing. He didn't hear Ginny's horrified scream as she realized the inevitable. Actually half the stadium was screaming, while the rest was petrified at the imminent catastrophe. He pushed the Firestreak faster than ever before, he willed it to go faster, and then, as if in a dream, he realized that he really was going to reach the Snitch before Harry. He felt the unmistakable contact of the small winged ball against his palm. He closed his hand, and only then did he think about controlling the situation.

It was much too late. The two bodies collided, not quite head on, but Harry's shoulder struck against Draco's side with the full force of their combined speed. Draco's world went dark for a second and when he recovered consciousness, his chest was on fire and the world was rotating strangely around him. It took him a moment to understand that he was falling through the air, still holding the Snitch in one hand. He looked at it and smiled. He'd done it. He'd finally caught the bloody thing. That was when he realized that his broom was nowhere to be seen.

Harry barely managed to stay on the Firebolt. His arm felt like it was dislocated, and one thing was sure, he hadn't caught the Snitch. He looked behind him and he saw Draco cartwheeling in one direction, his broom flying away in another. His heart stopped beating as he realized what was happening. They where very high, and Draco was going to kill himself. He didn't stop to think and pure reflex turned his flight toward a point below his friend's fall. For one horrible moment he knew that he was going to miss him. He was too far away, and there was no chance of reaching him before he could hit the ground. That thought was unbearable and he screamed in rage and frustration until he suddenly realized what he could do.

"ACCIO DRACO!"

The other boy jerked as if pulled by a giant invisible string. Harry felt it as well, and they rushed toward each other once more, but this time to relative safety. Once again they collided, but less violently and Draco managed to hang on to Harry's broom and the two of them descended, more or gracefully, downward.

Harry dropped on his knees, the wind had been knocked out of him, and his arm and shoulder were screaming in pain. Draco was lying on his back, his teeth clenched against the agony of his broken ribs, but he still had the Snitch in his hand. Peoples were running toward them, screaming and cheering, someone asked for the infirmary. Overhead the booming voice of Dennis was calling out the final score.

"And Draco catches the Snitch giving the game to Slytherin with a score of 270 to 110 for Gryffindor. Damn it, but that was the most harrowing catch I ever saw. Colin, I bloody hope that you've caught it on film or else I'm going to skin you alive -"

"MISTER CREEVEY, CHECK YOUR LANGUAGE!" yelled McGonagall.

"Draco! Harry! You stupid bunch of gits," screamed Hermione as she reached them, the relief at seeing them safe turning into fury at what they had done. "That was the most stupid thing ever."

Neither boy replied, both were still catching their breath, and trying to control their pain. Harry wondered if he was going to faint or be sick first. More anxious faces came, but it was difficult to understand what they were saying. His last vision was the Snitch in Draco's hand, and his last thought was that they had lost. He had tried but failed.

Severus had been running like the others, with Helen on his heels, toward the spot where the two Seekers had touched down. He was both elated by the success of his team, the Cup was a good as theirs after this last match, baring an incredible catch up by the other teams in the remaining matches of the year, and angry that once again, Draco and Harry had shown such irresponsible behavior. They could very well have ended up severely injured or even killed.

Looking at them, in their pitiful state, he couldn't bring himself to vent his feelings. Harry was lying unconscious on the ground, and Draco was in no better shape, and of course, he remembered his own role in raising the stakes for this competition. At that point, his anger turned to uncomfortable guilt as he saw Hermione raise her eyes toward him. She had certainly been told what had happened at the Parkinsons. She held his gaze and nothing was said, but he could sense that she was a hair's breadth away from accusing him of edging them on.

Madam Pomfrey finished hovering around the two boys who were now floating gently toward the infirmary. She was mumbling something about having already prepared Potter's bed that morning, and it being a fast tiring routine for her.

The rest of them were moving back the castle as well, and he was left standing there with Helen. When they were alone, he breathed a deep sigh.

"That looked a little more dangerous than usual," she said. She looked at him. "Are you all right?"

He shook his head in disgust.

"I need a drink," he said. He made an effort to put the game out of his mind, and he looked at her. Showing her around would be much more pleasant than ruminating about things that couldn't be changed. "Have you ever been to the village nearby?" She shook her head, the only wizard places she had visited had been in London. "I think you will like it, if you don't mind walking a little distance."

He led her along the path down to Hogsmeade, giving her some details of the history of the settlement as they walked. He had been right. Helen immediately loved the place. They walked up to The Three Broomsticks, and he spotted an empty table where they sat down.

"Good afternoon professor Snape, Miss," said Madam Rosmerta cheerfully. She gave him a warning stare. "I hope you're not planning a repeat performance of the last time you brought a new friend here." Despite her words, there was a hint of mirth in her eyes.

Helen was startled and frowned at him, but Severus didn't even protest. She'd been ribbing him for that drunk party with Remus even since. That too was getting old.

"Just your standard warm ale please," he said wearily. "What will you have Helen?" She asked for the same and the innkeeper went away.

"What did she meant about a repeat performance?" She couldn't imagine the man doing anything inappropriate. He looked at her and realized that she didn't know the story. She was probably the only person around here who hadn't heard it a dozen times.

"There was another time when I really needed a drink." He shrugged. "Following up a ... reconciliation with Potter and his friends. I brought my own poison and," he made a vague gesture toward the rest of the room, "I guess it left some memories."

Helen thought back on what Harry and Hermione had told her. That was a tale she would have to get from him. But maybe not right now.

Their drinks arrived and she toasted him.

"To Slytherin's victory," she said. He grunted and started to smile, and then he remembered the ending and his face showed tiredness. He gave her the background on what had been arranged with Sir Comil.

"I made a mistake when I encouraged this. You saw how Miss Granger looked at me. I should have guessed it would turn out that way. To tell you the truth I don't know how to handle these kids anymore."

She looked at him with sympathy. She remembered well enough how dangerous wizard's lives were. They dealt with so much power that accidents were inevitable. At least they were much more resistant to injury than normal humans. But it's not always enough. She pushed the thought away from her mind.

"Do you feel that they are your special responsibility?" she asked gently.

He thought about it and shrugged lightly. A few weeks ago, he would have answered yes, even though he was honest enough to admit that it would have been in large part because of their importance in the war. Now he was not so sure.

They can't be controlled. Why should I burden myself anymore?

Getting no answer from him, Helen decided to change the subject. She was very happy to have come here. It was much more fun that the Auror Academy.

"Do you want to talk about something else?" He turned toward her and nodded. "Have you been doing anymore work beyond our little experiments?"

This drew a satisfied smile from him.

"Yes. Actually, I am finishing a monograph on the subject, and I plan to submit it to the relevant authorities in a few weeks."

"That's great. I'd love to read it," she answered.

"You will," he said, nodding. "I'm still finishing the first draft." He didn't add that he was also planning to give her due credit, for what it would be worth. She smiled happily at him.

"Severus, it was really nice of you to bring me here."

"It was a pleasure." Certainly he was happy to see her as well. "I don't know when the next event is scheduled, but I will keep you informed."

She considered him for a moment and made a decision.

"How about making the occasion ourselves?" she said.

"What do you mean?" His expression was guarded.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" she proposed. "At my place?"

She held her breath as she waited for his answer, all the while calling herself stupid for being so unsure of herself, as if it was the first time she'd asked that of another man. He looked back, and she saw the hesitation in him.

Severus considered the young woman in front of him. She was his friend, and it had been a big enough step for him to accept that. He could read where this was probably leading. Nobody, not even he, needed a degree in psychology to understand that. They were both unattached and they appreciated each other's company. Had she been a witch from a respectable family, no matter what the affiliation or the wealth, he would probably have been the first one to propose such a thing.

But she isn't.

And yet, he was becoming sick and tired of those prejudices. Several times, he had been shaken from such beliefs, by Harry, Granger, Remus, Dumbledore, and now by her. And now he had to admit that there was something rotten with the whole setup. Some arguments still stood. Wizard were much less numerous than Muggles, and secrets had to be kept. They needed the protection of being hidden, and they needed to preserve their society and culture. But it wasn't an easy path.

He was taking so long to answer that Helen was sure that he was going to say no. She had tried to prepare for the worst, but the actual realization of her fears was much harder than she had expected. She could not read his face, but she supposed that he was trying to think of a way to refuse gracefully. She would save him the effort.

"I'll understand if you don't-" she began. Her voice betrayed some of her pain. It made him react immediately. He was surprised at how much her feelings meant for him.

"I would be delighted to, Helen," he said.

She interrupted herself, and once again he saw the joy illuminating her face. It was lovely to watch and he felt a new pang of guilt because that happiness was a reaction to the hurt he had almost caused her. Somewhere in his mind a voice told him that it wasn't logical, but it didn't change what he was feeling.

"How about Thursday night?"

"That would be fine."

Helen knew that she was grinning stupidly, and she took a sip of her drink to mask it, but not even the big mug could hide the brightness of her face. It elicited an unusually kind smile from Severus, and for a moment they didn't say anything. Actually they didn't think of anything but of each other. Both of them were happier that they ever had been in many years. Helen was in love, she knew it without a doubt. Severus didn't know exactly what was happening, and somehow he didn't really want to analyze it, later perhaps. For the present, he just wanted to appreciate the moment.

From the counter, Madam Rosmerta watched them and smiled tenderly. Seeing young lovers was always something which made her day. Most students went over at Puddifoot's for their dates, but she got the serious ones. She had been losing hope about professor Snape, even if he had changed a lot lately. He'd been such a sad man for so long. She was really happy for him, and that young witch looked nice.

Quidditch Ch17 - 13