Harry Potter and the Final Curse

Chapter 9 - The Quidditch Prank

After waking Hermione up - ("What do you think you're playing at Harry?! It's three in the morning!") -, and her letting him kip on the couch in her room, Harry had yet another sleepless night as he went over what had happened. So somebody tried to kill him? Somehow Harry was not surprised; although he found it a little disconcerting that what appeared to be a student had just tried to murder him.

In the morning, after apologising profusely to Hermione, Harry found himself in Professor McGonagall's office, replaying to her exactly what happened the night before. She had a look of concern on her face, as she twiddled with the quill she held in her hands, eagerly awaiting the next part of the tale. Professor Snape was there too, and he was listening intently.

"Did the attacker reveal any clues to their identity?" asked McGonagall.

"Nothing really distinctive," said Harry. "I'm certain that they were wearing school robes though."

"School robes?" asked McGonagall with an extreme amount of anxiety in her voice. "So it must be a student, as believed all along. What about their height? Could you tell what gender they were?"

"It was too dark to make an accurate guess, but it looked like they were shorter than me, so no taller than five foot ten. They also spoke with a deep voice, so it was probably a male."

"Are you completely certain that the Avada Kedavra curse was cast successfully this time?" sneered Snape.

"Positive," said Harry rigidly, staring directly into Snape's eyes. "I've seen that curse cast dozens of times in the past and there's nothing else like it."

"Any theories of why they have become successful with the curse?" asked McGonagall.

"As I'm sure that you're aware, spells rarely work first time, or even the first few times for that matter, and the Avada Kedavra curse is especially hard to perform, even for a highly experienced wizard," explained Harry. "Of course there is another possibility."

"You mean emotion?" asked McGonagall.

"Exactly. The stronger the emotional feeling of the user to the recipient, the more powerful the spell will be. In the case of the Avada Kedavra curse, the amount of hate and anger affects its power and likelihood of succeeding. I am quite confident that if I tried to cast the spell on you Headmistress, even if I concentrated really hard, I doubt that I would get much of an effect."

"I'll take your word for it," said McGonagall, slightly taken aback. "But the only people who harbour great feelings of hatred and anger towards you are the Death Eaters. The only other person would be Voldemort himself."

"It can't be Voldemort," said Harry confidently. "These attacks are far too amateurish to be his work. But a Death Eater is a strong possibility."

"There is perhaps one Death Eater who holds a grudge greater than all the others," said Snape.

"You mean Draco Malfoy?" said Harry bitterly.

"Of course," said Snape. "Your animosity goes back years, to the very first day of starting here at Hogwarts, if I'm not mistaken. For years you were at each others throats, and I'm certain your hatred of each other continues to this day. I believe you were even responsible for the death of his father."

"But even Mr. Malfoy is too clever for this," said McGonagall. "Despite his wayward behaviour, he was always one of the school brightest pupils, and I'm sure his intelligence has only developed further."

"Maybe so, but it does not rule out the possibility that he is involved somehow," said Snape. "Malfoy has many associates."

"Are there any students with connections to him?" asked Harry.

"Only one that we know of - Eric Crabbe, the son of Vincent Crabbe, but it is unlikely that he is involved," said Snape.

Vincent Crabbe, along with Gregory Goyle, was a friend of Draco Malfoy, and rarely were they seen apart. In reality however, both Crabbe and Goyle were practically slaves to Malfoy.

"What makes you say that?" asked Harry.

"His father abandoned him and his mother shortly after he was born, and ran off to be at Malfoy's side no doubt. Young Mr. Crabbe is in Ravenclaw, and an exemplary student. The only thing he has in common with his father is their surname," explained Snape. "But to be on the safe side, he is one of the students that are being closely monitored."

"What is Mr. Malfoy doing nowadays anyway?" asked McGonagall curiously.

"Nobody is sure exactly," said Harry. "We don't even know where he is at the moment, not even remotely, the last confirmed sighting being more than two years ago. It is thought Malfoy is biding his time and gaining power before he tries to make a move again."

"Last time he 'made a move' as it were, resulted in the deaths of at least a dozen people, and many more injured, if I remember correctly," said Snape.

"Yes you do remember correctly, Professor," confirmed Harry. "He and his cronies attacked a small village in rural Oxfordshire, but for what purpose we do not know. Aurors, including myself, were quickly on the scene and we were able to fend them off before they caused too much damage. Malfoy currently remains the most wanted wizard in Britain, and also ranks high on the lists of several other countries."

There was a brief moment of silence while the three thought about the matter.

"Anyway, whoever is responsible, I suggest you proceed with your activities here in the school with great caution. With that in mind, you are relieved of night time corridor duty until further notice. I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but if the would-be assassin is determined to be rid of you then they will likely seek an alternative method," said McGonagall.

"Of course, Headmistress," said Harry graciously. "I shall be on my guard twenty four hours a day."

"Now because you are being careful doesn't mean you can enjoy your time here," said McGonagall. "You probably already know that today is the first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, and I would imagine you'd like to see that."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Harry cheerily.

"Let's just hope that Gryffindor wins though, hmm?" she said smiling. "It's a pity I can't attend the match myself. I've got too much work to do."

Snape was obviously not so amused. "Headmistress, need I remind you that your role in this school requires you to favour all of the houses equally," he droned.

"Yes I know, Severus, but once a Gryffindor, always a Gryffindor, isn't that right Harry?" she said grinning.

"Absolutely," said Harry grinning back.

"Indeed, but I'm afraid that you have very little chance of victory today," mocked Snape. "From what I've seen of the Gryffindors in their practice sessions, my team should win easily."

* * *

Harry went down to the Quidditch pitch just before eleven o'clock for today's game. At home he didn't get the chance to see a live match as often as he would have liked, and the last time he had seen one was about six months ago, when he and Ron had been to seen the Chudley Cannons play in the last match of the season, a very important one since the points up for grabs could see them winning for once.

Ron, being an avid Cannons fan, had a season ticket, which normally cost an arm and a leg, but since he worked in the Department of Magical Games he could get one at a fraction of the price. The same benefit also allowed Harry to get a cheap ticket but he only bought the one for the last match. Despite the Cannons actually winning the match, their overall score wasn't quite high enough to win the league (the winners were the Kenmere Kestrals by a mere ten points), and it took several Firewhiskeys to stop Ron crying afterwards.

Although the level of skill seen in today's match wouldn't be quite the same as seeing seasoned professionals at work, Harry was still looking forward to it none the less, taking his mind back to his time playing for the house team. Harry himself had the skill to play professionally but a few things got in the way (namely Voldemort and Death Eaters) and so he never really got the chance to. He didn't really regret the path his life took, but occasionally he would imagine himself playing Quidditch for his country in the world cup.

Just before entering the pitch through the gates, Harry caught the snippets of a conversation between a Slytherin Prefect and a couple of naive looking first years.

"... and there are four balls - the Quaffle, two Bludgers, and the Golden Snitch," said the prefect.

"So is Quidditch anything like football, but on broomsticks?" asked one of the first years.

Harry chuckled to himself, remembering the time he first found out the wonders of the game, as he entered the gates and found his way up to the teacher's box, situated in the centre of one side of the pitch, where you got just about the best view of the whole game.

Glancing around the rest of the pitch and stands, he noticed that the stands were nearly full, with what must be the whole school. Looking round more locally, Harry saw that most of the teachers were also here, except those that either didn't care that much for Quidditch, or had more important things to be doing. Harry located Hermione seated in the front row and, he went down and joined her.

"Harry, glad you could make it," she said.

"Like I told McGonagall - I wouldn't miss this for the world," said Harry. "How are the team this year? I've heard from the Gryffindor's themselves that things haven't being going smoothly."

"Well we've had a real recruitment problem," elaborated Hermione. "At the end of last year we lost three players, one of which was the Seeker and Captain. We also lost our Keeper, and one of the Chasers, and it's been difficult finding suitable replacements."

At that moment, the players from both teams made their way onto the pitch, followed by a loud cheer from the crowd. As it had always been, Gryffindor were playing in red and Slytherin were in green. Each of the teams went into a last-minute pep talk before mounting their brooms and doing a bit of warm up flying.

"Which one is the new Gryffindor captain then?" asked Harry.

It took a moment for Hermione to locate the captain in the fast-moving red and green blurs, but she eventually pointed to a brown haired girl.

"Over there," she pointed out. "Alison Jameson, a sixth year, who's also one of the beaters. Initially she didn't want the role of captain, but she is the most senior player and was sort of forced into it."

"A female beater? That's unusual," remarked Harry.

"Well she's a fantastic beater, and she's proved to be a good leader," said Hermione.

"What about the seeker?"

It took another moment before Hermione located the seeker; a small boy who looked like he was only in his second year.

"Derek Cotton, the youngest in the team," said Hermione. "He's shown he's got the talent for it in the practice sessions but this will be his first proper match."

"That explains the worried look on his face," said Harry. "It must have been the same way I looked in my first match."

Shortly afterwards, a man, with a fairly noticeable limp, entered onto the pitch carrying a wooden chest and a broomstick. It took Harry a moment to realise that it was actually Mr. Ackerley. He and Stewart had become quite friendly over the past week, with Quidditch being a hot topic among them, but he was surprised at himself that he didn't notice the limp in all that time. Maybe it only really showed when he was carrying something heavy.

Mr. Ackerley opened the chest and released the two Bludgers and the all-important Golden Snitch. Harry instinctively followed the Snitch with his eyes and saw it fly towards the Slytherin end, where it hovered some ten metres above the goal posts.

"Good luck with the game, Professor," Hermione said kindly to Professor Snape, who was sitting a couple seats away from her.

"Yes, I do say you'll need it," mocked Snape in return.

Mr. Ackerley blew his whistle and threw the Quaffle high up signalling the start of the game. Immediately one of the Slytherin Chasers snatched the Quaffle out of the air and few as fast as he could towards Gryffindor's goal posts.

"BLETCHLEY TAKES THE QUAFFLE!" said the voice of an unfamiliar girl who was commentating the match. She was sitting on the other side of Snape.

One of the Gryffindor Chasers tried to block the opposing Chaser, but the Slytherin passed to one of his fellow Chasers.

"HE PASSES TO WELLINGTON!"

Wellington was nearing the goal posts when a Bludger hit them in the side, which caused her to drop the Quaffle.

"NICE BLUDGER BY GRYFFINDOR CAPTAIN JAMESON! WONDERFUL! JUST WONDERFUL! SHE TRULY IS ONE OF THE BEST PLAYERS IN THE SCHOOL!"

"Yes, yes, Miss Jordan," said Snape. "No need to go overboard."

The Quaffle was caught by one of the Gryffindor Chasers.

"LANGLEY WITH THE QUAFFLE - WATCH OUT FOR THAT BLUDGER - SHE TRIES TO SCORE...!"

The Slytherin Keeper deflected it. Moans of disappointment came from the Gryffindor crowd.

"A GREAT SAVE BY THE SLYTHERIN KEEPER! - BLETCHLEY IS IN POSSESSION!"

The Slytherin headed up the pitch towards the Gryffindor end, flanked by the other two Chasers. After some skilful passing between them, Bletchley tried to score, and it went in. A large cheer came from the Slytherin supporters.

"Ten points to Slytherin," said Miss Jordan lazily.

Snape deliberately coughed in her direction. "Eh...hem."

"I mean, TEN POINTS TO SLYTHERIN!"

For the next five minutes or so, the match for the Gryffindor side was a shambles. Aside from the excellent performances from Alison Jameson, Seamus Finnigan Junior, and one of the chasers (Langley), the rest of the team were appalling; the other two Chasers either kept fumbling the Quaffle or were in no position to support the one good Chaser, the keeper was almost as bad as Ron was when he first started playing for the house team, and the seeker was no closer to finding the Snitch than he was when the match started. The score was now Slytherin fifty, Gryffindor zero, and Harry was doubtful whether the Gryffindors would be able to score at all.

Harry sat there watching one bad pass after another from the Gryffindor team, and it was all getting a bit depressing until -

"GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Langley, with a little help from one of her fellow chasers, had performed a rather nifty bit of flying, making the opposing chasers go the wrong way, and managed an impressive goal. Loud cheers emanated from the Gryffindor supporters. Hermione herself had risen to her feet and was now cheering.

"Yes! Yes! Go team! Well done!" she shouted, although the sound from the rest of the crowd drowned out her voice so much that you could only hear her if you were sitting a few metres away.

Harry had also risen to his feat and was cheering the Gryffindor team, although his attempt was just as useless as Hermione's.

Ten minutes later the Slytherins had increased their lead to eighty. The Gryffindors had only managed one more goal, bringing their total to twenty. It was quite obvious at this point that the only way Gryffindor would be able to win would be to catch the Snitch, earning them one hundred and fifty points, but they would have to do it fairly soon.

Harry's eyes went to scan the pitch to locate the Gryffindor Seeker, with some pointless plan that involved him willing the Seeker on using his mind, hoping it might just make him better. But Harry didn't get the opportunity to carry out that plan as he first spotted the Slytherin Seeker on an intercept course with the Snitch. Derek Cotton was unfortunately on the other side of the pitch at the time and had not noticed it at all.

The Slytherin Seeker continued to chase the Snitch as it flew around the pitch at high speed. He was now getting extremely close to catching it when something happened to shift everyone's attention away - The tail end of the broom of one of the Gryffindor Chasers started billowing a sickly pink smoke, before causing the broom to shoot forward at extreme speed by itself.

The crowd gasped at the sight - the Gryffindors concerned for their player, the Slytherins delighted at the Chaser's misfortune. The Chaser, who Hermione said was called Jason Freeman, was flailing about the pitch at an incredible velocity, the poor boy trying desperately to handle the out of control broomstick.

Mr. Ackerley blew his whistle. "Time out!" he shouted.

All the players stopped in their tracks, except for the hapless victim, and then it happened - one by one the rest of the Gryffindor's brooms started doing the same thing. Luckily the Captain and Langley managed to get to the ground before their brooms took off.

If the lives of five young people wasn't hanging in the balance at that time, the sight of seven broomsticks flying around the pitch uncontrollably, spouting pink smoke, might be considered a pretty spectacle. The Slytherin players, thinking their brooms might suddenly do the same, decided not to take the chance and landed as quickly as possible. Fortunately for the Slytherins, none of their brooms seemed to be affected.

There was now a crisis amongst the teaching staff as no one seemed to be able to think of a way to reliably and safely rescue the young Gryffindors. Somebody suggested just simply casting a dispel charm on the brooms, but once they tried that on one of the two riderless brooms and it then exploded, they decided to bin that idea. The use of the immobile charm on the other broomstick produced a similar effect.

Then, before anyone could do anything, young Mr. Freeman fell off his broom and plummeted about fifty metres straight to the ground in a sickening crunch that made everyone wince. Wasting no time, Madam Mendel, the school healer, made her way as quickly as possible onto the pitch and tended to the injured boy.

They really needed to stop these out of control brooms before anyone else got hurt but, as they saw, magic was not going to be the direct solution; which was a shame considering they had well over a dozen fully trained witches and wizards among them. It was the time for those that had knowledge of the muggle world to shine, so Harry, Hermione, Professor Asgard, and a couple of other teachers put their heads together to think 'outside the box'.

After a strenuous thought, they finally came up with a solution of just getting the students off the brooms and worrying about the brooms later. The way of getting them off their brooms was simple, although highly dangerous - they would deliberately fall off.

As a group of the teachers made their way onto the pitch, they tore down several of the giant banners that lined the stadium, to be used as giant crash mats. However, in their current state, the banners wouldn't be that effective as crash mats, so a little bit on enchantment was in order. The banners now would float about a metre of the ground and had cushioning charms placed on them so that they would absorb the impact of someone falling.

However finding away to signal to the four whizzing students, let alone persuade them to intentionally fall off, was going to be difficult, yet Mr. Ackerley took up the challenge.

The banners were spread out on the vast majority of the pitch as Mr. Ackerley flanked the first student, the remaining Chaser. Thanks to his excellent flying ability, and the fact he had a much better broom than the old Comet the Chaser was riding, Mr. Ackerley was able to keep up and somehow managed to convey the plan to her. Moments later she fell off her broom as it continued to fly onwards. There was a tense moment, including plenty of gasps from the on-looking spectators, as the Chaser landed almost in the centre of a Hufflepuff banner, unharmed, although a little shaken.

Mr. Ackerley moved onto the next student, Seamus Finnigan Junior, who at this point was beginning to lose his grip. It didn't take a lot of persuasion to get Mr. Finnigan to voluntarily fall off his broom, and he eagerly leapt off and landed on one of the banners. The Keeper was also easily enough persuaded to let go of his broom, and soon enough all but one of the Gryffindor team members was safe.

Harry watched ardently as Mr. Ackerley tried to get the Seeker, Derek Cotton, to follow the rest of his team mates but, no matter what he said, Derek would not let go. In the end Mr. Ackerley had to use force, as he shoulder barged the seeker, causing him to finally fall off. Derek landed with a bounce on one of the banners, and was quickly seen to by one of the teachers. The pupils were thankfully all now on the ground, and the only one to sustain any significant injury was the Chaser, Jason Freeman.

"Broken leg, several broken ribs, and took a nasty blow to the head," diagnosed Madam Mendel, as she examined the unconscious Chaser. "We need to get him to the hospital wing right away."

Two teachers carefully placed Jason Freeman on a stretcher, and then followed Madam Mendel as she hurriedly marched towards the castle.

The seven broomsticks that belonged to the Gryffindor players were still flying around by themselves, spouting pink smoke, as the Captain of both teams went into a serious discussion with each other. After a few minutes, they proclaimed to the teachers that the match would end. After some protests from the Slytherin Captain, who wanted the game to be counted as a draw, it was eventually decided that the score should stand as it was before all the problems started - Slytherin Eighty, Gryffindor Twenty.

* * *

The seven broomsticks remained flying around the school Quidditch stadium long after everything had been cleared up and all the students and teachers had vacated. It wasn't until just before seven o'clock the same day that they finally all stopped and fell to the ground, when they were all taken back to the castle for examination.

Meanwhile, Jason Freeman was still unconscious in the hospital wing, and although it was touch and go for a moment, Madam Mendel pronounced that he should make a full recovery.

Professor McGonagall waited eagerly in her office for the results of the analysis from the various teachers that examined the brooms, and in the end it was Professor Greenvale who came up with the cause. She placed a glass jar, containing something pink and furry, onto the Headmistress's desk.