Harry Potter and the Dark Mark

Chapter Fifteen

"Come on Harry, we don't want to be late for the big match now, do we? Hermione, watch out for me!" Ron cried, tugging at his Quidditch robes and smoothing the handle of his broom as he spoke.

"Of course I will, you numpty!" Hermione gave Ron an affectionate peck on the cheek.

"Awww, look at ickle Ronniekins!" Fred cooed.

"We love to see you in love," George teased. Ron's ears turned red, but a scowl marred his face.

"I hope you don't want to see Ginny in love," he muttered darkly. Fred and George scowled in unison, so that all three Weasley boys looked even more alike than usual.

"Did you send Pig off with a letter to Mum?" Fred asked.

"Straight after we talked with Ginny," Ron affirmed. He stressed the word 'talked', because the Weasley temper had been on show in the common room last night. Harry had told Ron about Malfoy, and Ron had shouted at Ginny when she returned before bed. She had faced him down, so he enlisted the help of the twins, and all three of them had shouted at Ginny, with Harry throwing in the odd comment about Malfoy's manners and Death Eater links for good measure. Hermione had remained a spectator throughout, along with the rest of Gryffindor House. Now it was they day of the first Quidditch match of the season, and Gryffindor were playing Slytherin.

"Good. We're going to send every single Bludger we can in the direction of that slimy, flobberwormy little git," George growled. Harry backed away slightly. He was exceedingly glad he had never mentioned the Christmas kiss with Ginny to any of her brothers.

"You'd better not do," a calm voice instructed them. It was Ginny.

"You'd better not try to stop us," Fred replied in an equally calm manner.

"I won't, but Katie and Angelina and Alicia won't be too impressed if you get yourselves taken out of the game for fouling, will they? What a brilliant way to start the season, getting Gryffindor fined a hundred points and putting yourselves at the losing end of the school," Ginny said offhandedly.

"She's even started talking and thinking like him!" Ron announced to Harry incredulously. Harry nodded. It was true. But then again... No. Ginny had definitely changed. She hadn't been like this before. He patted Ron consolingly on the shoulder.

"Concentrate on the game, Ron."

"Yes Ron, do," Hermione begged. Ron turned to her and smiled.

"Come on team!" Katie ordered. Harry shivered with anticipation, and with everyone wishing them good luck, and telling them to wipe the floor with the Slytherins, they exited the common room.

After Katie's pep talk, they waited for a runner to come tell them that the School was assembled, and that the other team was ready. Then they made their way out onto the pitch, all silent, ready to play, and ready to win.

"How's your cheek, Potter?" Malfoy asked with his characteristic sneer. Harry ignored him.

"Now, I mean this, one foul from any of you, and I'll disqualify the Keeper from the team, no matter WHO fouls," Madam Hooch threatened. The teams gasped. No one had ever heard of a penalty this big before. Harry reflected that Madam Hooch must finally have had enough of the Slytherins' ways. He saw Fred and George give each other bitter looks. Their plan had just flown off on a Firebolt.

Then, with the shrill of a whistle and a kick of the box, Madam Hooch started the game off. The Snitch flew straight up into the air, circled Malfoy, and then shot off into the distance. Harry ascended slowly, spiralling and watching the Chasers as he waited to catch sight of the Snitch again. Lee Jordan was commentating, as usual, but Harry heard another voice speaking with him. It had a familiar Irish brogue about it, and Harry smiled as he put face to voice. Seamus was helping Lee, learning how to commentate for next year's matches.

The Gryffindor Chasers were on top form, darting about the pitch and rapidly bringing Gryffindor into the lead by thirty points. Harry watched as a Slytherin Chaser hurtled towards the goal. Ron stayed calm, calculating which hoop he was aiming for. Just as the Slytherin took his shot, Ron moved fractionally to the left, and the Slytherin threw the Quaffle with all his might. Ron caught it easily, and passed it to Alicia, who shot off towards the Gryffindor goal. Ron turned and grinned at Harry, who gave him a thumbs up sign. After the next Gryffindor goal, however, things began to go downhill rapidly.

A Bludger hit Alicia, who had scored the goal. The Slytherin Beater, Derrick, who had managed to send it in her direction crowed with triumph, and then jeered as Professor Flitwick levitated her unconscious form from the pitch below. After about five minutes, in which Katie had a hurried conference with Angelina, the game was resumed. The Slytherin Chaser and Captain, Peregrin Fenwick, scored a goal within thirty seconds. Harry could see, even from his distance, that this had been a great blow to Ron's morale.

The Gryffindor Chasers had lost their tight formation too. Harry cursed the old wizard who had invented the no substitution for an injured player rule. He prayed that Angelina and Katie could adjust accordingly, and score without their arrowhead formation. It didn't take them as long as Harry had feared to regain their control over the game. In the quarter of an hour that had passed since Alicia had been knocked out, Slytherin had scored seventy points, and Gryffindor were up to eighty. They were still leading, but the gap was closing.

"Keep it up, Harry!" George bellowed, as he struck a Bludger out of his path. It made straight for Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, but was belted out of the way by Bole, the other Beater on the opposing team.

Harry whirled suddenly. The Snitch had flown right in front of his face. He sped after it, and heard the swishing sound of his robes flapping in the wind. Malfoy soon caught up with him, throwing taunts and insults at Harry, but failing to distract him. Harry reached out his hand as soon as the Snitch began to fly in a direct line, but couldn't accelerate for some strange reason. He realised that Malfoy was up to his old tricks, and was holding steadfastly into the bristles of Harry's broom, preventing him from moving forwards any faster.

"Get off!" Harry snarled over his shoulder.

"Not likely. They can't see me up here, Scarhead!"

"They have binoculars!" Harry warned. Then there was a low 'whumpfh' sound and Malfoy rocketed sideways he took a Bludger to the ribs. Then another Bludger zoomed past Harry, followed another in quick succession. Harry was jerked to the right as Malfoy still had hold of his broom, and when he was free, the Snitch had vanished. He searched for it in vain, before swearing quietly, and returning to the middle of the pitch, where an argument had erupted between the Weasleys and Madam Hooch. Harry ran through the last few events and realised the source of the argument. There were only meant to be two Bludgers in a game, and yet one had hit Malfoy and two others had careered past Harry. Something was amiss. Wearily, Madam Hooch called a short break in the match. Harry did not blame her for looking so long suffering. After all, she must be used to the Slytherins' way of fouling at least half a dozen times per game. It had not occurred to him yet, that on this occasion, the foul seemed to come from the Gryffindor side.

"That great red headed brute threw his Beater bat at me!" Malfoy accused, returning to the pitch after a quick check up by Snape. He was pointing straight at Fred.

"No I didn't!" Fred yelled back, red in the face.

"Mr Weasley, there is no need to sho-" Madam Hooch interjected.

"Fine! He did then!" Malfoy said through tight lips. He moved his accusatory finger to George, who shook his head.

"No, I meant that I didn't throw it at you. I let go of it! It was an accident!" Fred returned.

"Will you please both stop shouti-"

"Don't lie to me, you half witted oaf! You're just sorry you didn't succeed in killing me because I'm going out with your little sister," Malfoy spat.

"That's a lie!" George yelled, moving in front of Fred.

"Mr Malfoy, I am sure Mr Weasley had no intention of killing you..."

"Oh no? It's a good job you're a Weasley. Another more competent wizard may have done me more damage. Anyway, ask Potter, he saw," Malfoy added carelessly.

Everyone's attention turned to Harry. He recoiled slightly from the limelight, and then realised everyone was waiting for his side of the story. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, Harry?" Madam Hooch enquired.

"Malfoy was hit by what I thought was a Bludger, but then two more flew past me straight after he was hit. Even if it was deliberate, which I know it wasn't, it shouldn't matter, because Malfoy was holding onto the tail of my broom," Harry stated.

"You can't prove anything, Potter," Malfoy snarled.

"Oh I think I can," Harry returned smugly. He scanned the Gryffindor stands for Hermione. She was waving something at him. "May I?" he asked Madam Hooch for permission. She nodded mutely. He flew over to Hermione and leaned in to retrieve what she was handing to him.

"Don't drop them!" Hermione shrieked at him. He grinned. Malfoy was so caught. He flew speedily back to the small gathering.

"Omnioculars, with a clip showing what happened," he announced. He threw them to Madam Hooch, who looked through them. After about a minute of tense silence as she watched, she turned and scowled, and then spoke again.

"I can see Mr Malfoy holding onto Mr Potter's broom, but not either of the Weasleys. All I see is a Beater bat hitting Mr Malfoy. So, I shall have to do as Mr Potter suggested, and conclude that both incidents were fouls, and therefore cancel each other out. I am most displeased!"

There were sighs of relief all round, and glares exchanged between teams. The game was resumed for the second time, and Malfoy left Harry well alone, shadowing him from a distance. Typically, he was letting Harry search for the Snitch. After about half a minute back into the game, Harry saw the Snitch again. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him Malfoy had seen it too. A rapid chase ensued, twirling round Fred and underneath George, past Angelina who nearly dropped the Quaffle, shooting straight up, nearly knocking Bole from his broom, and then heading in a straight line for the Slytherin goals.

Harry started to reach out, exhilaration and adrenaline shooting through him, and then almost lost his grip as he clutched at nothingness. He cursed and blinked, before following the Snitch. He found himself spinning in a corkscrew movement around the tallest Quidditch goalpost before speeding out horizontally along the pitch, close to the ground. Malfoy caught up with him, but the Snitch began ascending in a curve, and Harry outstripped him easily. Malfoy didn't dare get too close. The Snitch was now moving in a straight line once more, and Harry realised that with Malfoy so close behind, it was now or never.

Intent upon its path towards the stands, the Snitch sped up a little. Harry stretched out, willing his fingers to close around the small golden ball, aware that he had precious seconds before colliding with the Teacher's Stand. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears and the roar of his fellow pupils, Lee and Seamus yelling excitedly rather than commentating, Malfoy right behind him, and Dumbledore dead ahead, but his mind was remarkably clear and removed from all that. His fingers started to close in, and he felt the flutter of wings against them as the Snitch struggled vainly to get free. Then Harry braked with all his might, closed his eyes tight shut, and prayed that he wouldn't hurt anyone, including himself.

There was a sudden silence as he jolted to a standstill, the Snitch still in his grasp. Then, quite suddenly, the entire school went wild. They yelled, cheered, booed, screamed and whooped. Harry opened one eye. Dumbledore was standing about two inches in front of the tip of Harry's broom handle. He looked perfectly composed, and a smile ghosted across his lips briefly as Lee started yelling to Seamus.

"Harry Potter catches the Snitch, in what is probably his most exciting chase ever! Gryffindor win with two hundred and thirty points to seventy!" Lee gasped.

Harry straightened on his broom, and McGonagall and the other staff let out huge gusty sighs of relief. Harry let out his breath. He had been unaware he was holding it in. He was about to fly away, down to Madam Hooch and the rest of the team, when Dumbledore called softly to him.

"Harry, come see me tonight, if you please. I need to speak to you about Snuffles' latest discoveries. He is currently on a field mission, and-" Dumbledore's composed face suddenly creased as he doubled over. He sank silently into his seat, and then exhaled loudly. McGonagall yelped, face contorting. She seemed to undergo some strange, massive internal struggle, and then dashed to him, and Harry was pushed back by the gaggle of concerned teachers suddenly trying to help their Headmaster. The last Harry saw of Dumbledore was the deep purple of his pointed hat before Snape removed it and leaned in. Then Harry's view of Dumbledore's bowed head was blocked completely, and he simply watched the teachers in stunned horror.