The Convict Trio and the Wings of the Heir

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Chapter 7: Voldie at the Quidditch Pitch

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Harry trudged to breakfast the next morning, numb with his newly-obtained information. After a sleepless night, no matter how much he tried to convince himself, the boy had finally admitted that what he had witnessed was real, not a dream as he'd like to believe. Why was Snape after him? What was he after? Was he following VOLDEMORT's orders? He had been warned that there was a large chance the Dark Lord was still alive, after all...

These troubled thoughts were batted relentlessly about his mind as he ate his breakfast in a daze with stiff, zombielike movements.

That is, of course, until someone spilt her orange juice on Harry.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, helping to clean up the mess she had made. "I tripped...didn't mean it."

"...It's okay. Don't mention it," he replied blankly. He vaguely realized that he'd have to change before he played in the day's Quidditch match.

Hermione gave Harry an uncertain look. "Are you all right, Harry? You don't look so good..."

"HEY! HARRY!" A voice shouted jovially from behind the two. It was Ron. "We're gonna beat down Ravenclaw in today's Quidditch match, ri--" The red-haired boy cut off his sentence as he got a good look of his best friend. "...Uh...Harry...are you okay?"

Potter sighed at his two friends. "...No. No, I'm not all right," he began. He quickly cut off the two as they opened their mouths to speak. "I have something to tell you, just not here. I'll tell you after breakfast."

And so, their meal went by in worried silence, speaking only to say that they'll discuss 'matters' in the library. Oliver Wood was, of course, urging all of his Quidditch players to eat well for the game, oblivious to how his Seeker currently felt. As the Trio speedwalked out of the room, Harry couldn't help but notice the piercing stares he kept receiving from a certain banshee...

All was quiet in Hogwarts's extensive library. Luckily for the Trio, they seemed to be the only ones present that Saturday morning. They had chosen a quiet, secluded corner, keeping their voices at low whispers so as not to alarm Madam Pince.

"So what's wrong, Harry?" Ron whispered as Harry hesitated in telling his tale.

"Well..." Potter began slowly. "You probably won't believe this at first, but I saw something last night when I tried out my invisibility cloak--"

"HARRY!" Hermione spat out in an urgent, horrified whisper. "You snuck out at night when you knew you were breaking school rules? Why on earth did you do that?!"

Ron simply rolled his eyes. "That's not the point, Hermione! Let him tell his story! Geez, live a little...Go on, Harry."

Harry hesitated before continuing. "I went to go see Sonores. I...just...well, my scar burned when she stared at me at the team's practice session the other day. I wanted to know what she was up to," he explained, feeling rather lame about it.

"You wouldn't believe who else I saw in her office." Harry sighed at Hermione's and Ron's expectant looks. "It was Snape."

"SNAPE?!" Ron burst out without thinking, receiving a sharp glare from Madam Pince. He laughed nervously and lowered his voice back down to a whisper. "Are you sure it was that slimy git? He can't be stupid enough to come here after escaping Azkaban, can he?"

Hermione, however, said nothing, seemingly lost in thought as Harry continued to speak.

"I'm positive it was Snape. He was threatening Sonores about something...told her that 'the Potter boy is unworthy of your killing shrieks,'" Harry explained, recalling the Potions Master's warning. He related the entire story to his two friends, finishing up with: "He called her a banshee, Ron."

"A banshee?" Ron asked incredulously. He thought about that a bit, his mouth turning downwards into a frown. "Well, the whole story explains a lot..."

"It makes perfect sense!" Hermione suddenly piped up. "She isn't talking because she can't, but, rather, she isn't talking because she won't. If she speaks, she'll kill us and blow her cover."

"Yeah, what great that does for Harry," Ron muttered. "What do we do? Snape doesn't sound like he's trying to protect you, you know," he said to Harry.

"Exactly my thought," the brunette replied with a dejected sigh.

"Well, we can't just sit here! Harry is in considerable danger! We'll have to tell Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall about this..."

"Oh, yeah, right, Hermione," Ron muttered sarcastically. "Dumbledore's gone right now, remember? He got an owl from Fudge asking how to handle the Augerey population in Scotland and he's left to sort it out... And who will believe us, anyway? You heard it yourself; Snape's using something to make him invisible. How can we prove that?"

Quite frankly, Hermione's confident grin frightened Ron. "Harry has an invisibility cloak, right?" Her two friends gave her a wary look. "We'll use it, then. I'll do some research to try and figure out just what Snape is using as an invisibility potion. You can keep a lookout for anything suspicious and be sure to follow his footsteps back to his hiding spot." With that, she abruptly turned away to search the shelves of books for something useful.

Ron and Harry gave each other wide-eyed stares as Hermione stalked off in search of reading material. "...You think she's finally lightening up? Scarily brilliant, she is..." Ron said in a hushed whisper as the two stood to leave the library.

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Severus Snape was unaware of the fact that anybody in the school except for Dumbledore, Sonores, and the escaped convicts knew of his presence. Had he known that at that very moment, Harry Potter and his friends were plotting on how to discover and reveal him, he would certainly have been grumpier than he was at the moment. Not that he wasn't already extremely grumpy, but...

Still wearing his pink fuzzy earmuffs (although he was invisible, so they were slightly less embarrassing than before), Snape once more made his way down to Sonores's office. Quickly jimmying the lock and slipping inside, he looked around carefully. The standard fireplace and mirror were still there, along with a few exotic-looking artifacts that, despite looking extremely suspicious, where not dark artifacts. Much to Snape's disappointment. With a bad-tempered scowl he jerked open the doors of the cupboard that stood in the corner, revealing..

A few goat eyeballs floating in unidentified liquid. Suspicious, yes, but as a Potions Master Snape had handled more than a few goat eyes in his time, as they could work in place of bezoars (albeit not as well) and were much easier to find. His scowl deepened as he swooped (had to use that) across the room, opening drawers and cabinets without regard for personal privacy at all. What a perv Snape is. :D

After going through what had to be a dozen packs of Exploding Snap that were stuffed into a desk, Snape spouted a long string of frustrated curses and turned on his heel, stomping out of the room. Normally, it would have inspired fear as his cape billowed dramatically in the wind, but as he was wearing an Armani suit.. Snape ended up showing off his ass as he walked quickly away, his eyes on the ground. Finding Mrs. Norris sunbathing on the way, he kicked her viciously, sending her yowling out the window. Looks like she used up one of her nine lives right there. :P

Poor Snape. If only he had searched behind that last pack of cards, he would have seen... Ah, but we can't tell you yet. You'll find out soon enough.

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While Snape was busy rooting around in Sonores' office, Lupin had finally convinced Sirius to drink a draught of the mud-like Invisibility Potion and follow him to the Quidditch pitch. Dumbledore had procured two pairs of Omnioculars, and, safely hidden on top of the canopy that covered the teacher's seats, they watched as the students filed into their seats, slowly filling up the huge stadium. Remus noted that the Gryffindors held large red and gold banners, while the Ravenclaws proudly sported blue and bronze. Hufflepuff was evenly divided, and Slytherin... were waving green and silver flags. Lupin sighed. It seemed that some things stayed the same over the years.

A dull roar rose and a flurry of applause greeted the Quidditch teams as they stepped out from the behind the huge double doors. Lee Jordan's voice, amplified by the Sonorus Charm on his megaphone, roared out across the stands.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the third Quidditch match of the year!" he shouted, as the red and blue-robed teams met on the ground far below. "Today's match is Gryffindor Vs Ravenclaw, and you can already tell it's a great day for Quidditch!" Indeed, the sun had peeked out from behind the clouds, flooding the world with its glow.

Down at the ground, Oliver Wood and Roger Davies grinned at each other as they shook hands, although they were belied by the interesting series of cracks and pops that issued from each other's hands. After a while, both stepped back, nursing their injured hands. Glaring daggers at each other now, they mounted their broomsticks, ready to kick off the moment Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

Harry watched as Hooch opened the box containing the four Quidditch balls, releasing them. She blew the whistle just as the Bludgers started to curve and rocket towards them. Fred Weasley batted one towards Roger Davies, slamming it into the boy's belly. Roger almost fell off his broomstick from the point-blank blow, but there was nothing against it in the rules, and play continued as usual. Harry hovered high above the crowd, on the lookout for a flash of gold.

Lee Jordan was making fun of Davies, who had yet to block a single goal. It seemed that the trio of Bell, Johnson and Spinnet was too much for him to handle, and he spun around on his broom in a futile attempt to catch them. Noticing Oliver Wood snickering on the other side of the field, Davies promptly flipped the bird at Wood. The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain sped across the field, his eyes glinting with obvious malicious intent, but stopped and turned around halfway; the Ravenclaw Chasers were speeding towards the unprotected scoring hoops and they put in two goals before Wood arrived to stop them. The score was 20 to 50, Gryffindor lead.

Sirius had kept his eyes on Harry at first, but he soon found that the boy was in his element and his gaze strayed to other things. Fiddling with his Omnioculars, he found a very attractive pair of seventh years snogging busily beneath the stands. They don't seem like the type to swing that way, Sirius thought with a mental shrug. He pressed a knob on the side and a slip of paper jutted out from the bottom of the Omnioculars. Sirius quickly slipped the picture of the snogging girls into his Armani suit's inner pocket, grinning. His Omnioculars came in handy through the rest of the match as he watched the lovely young girls. Hey, a man can't stay in prison for eleven years and not have certain... urges, y'know.

Harry's search for the Snitch wasn't going too well... Then he noticed it: hovering almost in the exact center of the field was the Golden Snitch. Harry didn't waste time thinking; he dove towards it as fast as he could, determined to catch it before Ravenclaw's Seeker, Cho Chang. (*dansu* Yes, she's already Seeker.) He was about three yards away and he could almost feel the cold metal grasped in his fingers when the Snitch suddenly rocketed towards him. He stretched out his hand to grab it but the golden ball slapped his hand aside through pure velocity. Harry winced as a sudden pain burst on his forehead as well as his hand, and his other hand came up to feel at his scar.

Apparently the Snitch had noticed Harry's preoccupation, for it turned and hovered for a moment before rocketing at his head. Harry's eyes widened as he jerked the broom upward in a desperate burst of speed, but the Snitch slammed solidly into his right leg, cracking the bone. Harry's eyes watered with pain, from his scar, from his hand, and now from his leg. He wondered why he had never before considered how much harm the Snitch could do if it wanted to. It was certainly much faster than the Bludgers and judging from the cuts on Harry's robes, its wings had become bladed.

The Snitch dodged Cho's attempt to grab it and buzzed angrily once more towards Harry. This time he was ready. He snapped his hand out just as it came within grabbing distance and caught it firmly in his hand. He could feel it fluttering futilely against his hand as it had countless times in practice. Only this time, the Snitch's wings seemed to be made out of small knives, cutting deep into his hand. Harry released the golden ball with a cry of pain, and an anxious roar rose from the Gryffindor section of the crowd. Hooch blew her whistle, signaling that Harry hadn't kept hold of it. The game went on.

Lupin shook his head. What on earth was Harry doing? He had caught the Snitch... and then released it. Now he was actually fleeing from it. The only people who hadn't yet noticed were the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor beaters, who were too busy fending off the Bludgers to pay much attention to the rest of the game. Remus slowed down the speed on his Omnioculars and hit the replay button. The Snitch was caught in Harry's hand, it's wings beating helplessly as it always did... and slicing Harry's hand to ribbons?! He elbowed Sirius sharply, directing his attention to Harry. Black's eyes widened with fear as he saw Harry being... err... mercilessly abused (?) by the crazed winged ball.

Harry barely dodged the Snitch as it came for him again. All the other players had stopped, staring as the Gryffindor Seeker desperately avoided the Snitch. It buzzed past his head, and Harry could have sworn he heard a voice.

"Damn you boooooooyyyy..." it said, the voice fading as the Snitch flashed past him. Harry's eyes widened: was the Snitch possessed? That certainly would explain the thing's suddenly dangerous temperament. There was only one way to find out... a determined look settled across his features as he turned around to face the maddened Snitch.

...Only it wasn't there. Harry looked around, but there was no glimmer of gold from reflected sunlight. Turning a full circle, he was still unable to catch even a glimpse of the rogue Snitch. Oliver Wood stared back at him and shrugged, as perplexed as Harry.

Suddenly, a Bludger slammed into the small of his back, nearly breaking it. Harry gasped in agony, a hand flying reflexively to his back. The black ball flew away, searching for a new target. But the damage had been done. An angry buzzing was all the warning he got before the Snitch, obviously sensing its target's vulnerability, smashed with a burst of speed straight into his scar.

Blinding pain burst in Harry's body, radiating from his scar as colored lights danced in his vision. He nearly lost consciousness, but he just barely managed to keep control of his broom as the Snitch buzzed away, preparing for another charge. But his plan stayed in his mind, and his emerald green eyes burned with determination as the Snitch rocketed in for what was obviously the final blow.

Just as the Snitch roared towards his forehead, Harry flew up again, catching the blow in his stomach. He nearly fainted from the pain as the ball's sharp wings cut at his belly, but he grit his teeth and managed to wrap his loose robes firmly around the madly struggling Snitch, ignoring the pain that blossomed in his scar. A muffled voice from the Harry's belly hissed angrily at him,

"Let me go, boy! Dammit, I said let me go!!!"

Harry peeked into what lay at the center of his robes and fainted dead away. For what lay imprinted on the back of the Snitch, tiny, but unmistakable, was the stuff of Harry's nightmares.

The face of Lord Voldemort.

The Bludger that had smacked Harry now gave Oliver Wood a tremendous clout on the back of his head, sending the boy careening out of control. Wood lost consciousness and dropped twenty feet onto the teacher's seats, right onto Professor >D's lap. The faint tinkling sound of broken glass could be heard as the twenty-something Stink Potions stored in Nad's front pocket shattered.

A mad rush to escape the Quidditch pitch began as everyone but the teachers avoided the noxious gas. Lupin spotted Harry's falling form and, unable to stop himself, pulled out his wand and roared, "Impedimenta!" Harry immediately slowed and then stopped, hanging in midair. Sirius nearly jumped off of the canopy to try and get to Harry, but Lupin grabbed the collar of his suit in time to stop him from leaping off the edge.

"We're nearly out of time, we have to get back!" Remus hissed in Black's ear. Sirius took one last look at Harry, hanging helplessly in the air, and finally reluctantly nodded and turned away from him. Madam Hooch flew up on her broomstick, her yellow hawk's eyes filled with concern. Voldiesnitch had disappeared. Harry was hauled to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue softly, shaking her head. While his wounds were bandaged, she muttered darkly about dangerous sports and reckless flying.

Harry regained consciousness a while later, not noticing the cards and presents (including a toilet seat) beside his bed. He lay still, contemplating how his life had changed so much in the past week. Professor Lupin and Snape had been sent to Azkaban and had escaped, along with the murderer Sirius Black. He had seen Snape BACK in Hogwarts, obviously intending on killing him. He had seen Lord Voldemort's face in the Golden Snitch. Harry spent a sleepless night trying to link them together somehow. Hours later, the sun shone through the window on the slumbering face of Harry Potter, lost in his dreams and nightmares.

Even Madam Pomfrey was dozing lightly in her chair, her head nodding slowly. Nobody noticed a large black dog trot in and gaze sadly at the boy lying asleep on the hospital bed. It barked softly before turning and striding out again, pausing at the doorway to gaze wistfully over its shoulder at Harry. Then it was gone.

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Harry awoke to the sound of Madam Pomfrey's protests. After a painstakingly long night, he had been able to get a smidgen of rest, after all. Too bad it was all for naught, since the voices just outside his room were getting louder...

"Five minutes, Madam Pomfrey! We'll only be five minutes..."

"Could you please let us in, Madam Pomfrey? We won't be long."

An angry huff. "My patient needs his rest! He's received over ten major injuries and can't be expected to heal with so people nagging him to speak all the time!"

It went on just like this for a few minutes until the Nurse finally relented with a shout of "ONLY FIVE MINUTES!" Harry groggily pulled himself to a sitting position, grimacing at his aching body as Ron and Hermione rushed in.

"HARRY!" they both shouted simultaneously as they sat about his hospital bed.

"That was one bloody good game you played out there!" Ron exclaimed with a wide grin. "Bloody amazing, it was!"

Hermione snorted incredulously. "Honestly!* Is Quidditch all you can think about? It was horrible, Ron!" She turned to Harry with a concerned look. "Was that Snitch beating you out there?"

Harry slowly nodded, face drained of all color. "That was no ordinary Snitch. What did Madam Hooch do with it, anyway?"

Ron gave Harry an uneasy look. "Well...actually...the Snitch disappeared after you passed out. Flew straight up out of the field before anybody could do anything. Hooch had to order a new one from Quality Quidditch Supplies. But you won us the game!" he exclaimed with a forced grin, obviously hiding something.

Hermione took the opportunity to whisper to her raven-haired friend. "His rat, you know, Scabbers? He ran off and got lost in the rush to get out when Professor Nad's Stink Potions exploded. Ron hasn't been able to find him since. He's very upset, even if he won't admit it..."

Harry frowned and changed the subject, sensing Ron's discomfort. "That Snitch was definitely attacking me, though. Its wings were sharp. I'm pretty sure it was...trying to kill me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry!" Hermione tried to reassure. "The only way the Snitch would do that is if someone cursed it. I didn't see anyone muttering incantations in the crowd--"

"No! It's not that. Hermione, there was a face on that Snitch!" Hermione and Ron both gave him an odd look. "I'm pretty sure it was Voldemort."

Ron flinched away from Harry. "DON'T SAY HIS NAME!" he hissed, face pale with fear.

"Oh. Sorry..." Harry said apologetically, before returning to his story. "But it was a face! It spoke to me...told me to let him go. It..." He lowered his voice after glancing about the room, as if he expected Death Eaters . "It was the same exact voice I remember. High and cold..."

Hermione's eyes widened. "If the Snitch really was You-Know-Who, then you're in more danger than we originally thought. And not only that..." Here, she broke into a small, encouraging smile. "Some good news! Ron and I both heard Professor Lupin's voice shouting an incantation. He must have been using an item of invisibility, himself. He stopped your fall off your broom, Harry!"

"Really? But that means..."

"He's still on our side!" Ron piped up. "He must have seen Black and Snape escaping and followed them to stop them. Maybe he didn't deserve Azkaban, after all?

"Are you sure it was him?" Harry asked, relief flooding him now that he knew that there was one less person trying to kill him.

"Absolutely positive," Hermione replied with the utmost confidence. "By the way...I haven't been able to find anything on Invisibility Potions or Draughts in the library. Our only hope is the restricted section. It must be in there," she said firmly. "We'll need your invisibility cloak to fetch the books we need."

Harry nodded. They were actually getting somewhere with all of this, after all. "Don't worry. We can use my clo--"

"ALL RIGHT! Time's up!" shouted Madam Pomfrey's angry voice from the doorway. "You've had an entire six minutes! Out! OUT! Leave my patient to rest!"

Ron and Hermione both sighed and gave their friend an encouraging smile. "Hey! Make sure you take a look at the cards and gifts. I got you a few chocolate frogs, you know," Ron said.

"Good luck finding Scabbers, Ron," Harry said as he lay back down. Ron's face fell almost immediately.

"...I'll look out for him. Get well soon, Harry. And be careful?

With bids of farewell, his two friends left the boy to sleep his injuries away. Hermione had a small smile on her face. The brunette's fear was beginning to lift ever since the news of Lupin and the plan to thwart Snape...

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There was nobody on the deserted Quidditch pitch. Belongings lay strewn haphazardly across the seats, left behind in the panic to get out. Here a Cockroach Cluster, there a pack of Muggle cigarettes. The wind blew, as high and cold as Lord Voldemort's laugh, lifting small bits of paper into the air and scattering them to the four winds.

In this lonely, stinking (because the noxious clouds still hung about) place, one figure popped into existence with a loud crack. This figure wore a tattered, dirty pillowcase, had enormous, tennis-ball shaped eyes, and long bat-like ears. It looked hastily from side to side before scampering down the seats and stealthily drawing a flat black object from the inside of its pillowcase. Suddenly, the figure jumped off the stands and fell all the way to the ground with a pained squeal, repeatedly banging its head on the ground. Eventually it arose, and with another fearful look around, it phased out with another loud crack.

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Draco Malfoy was Bored. Bored with a capital B, written in large flaming letters which rained death and destruction upon those who were foolish enough to stand watching with mouths agape. He was so incredibly Bored that he briefly considered snogging with Harry Potter. Then he gave a derisive snort. As if that could ever happen.

With a deep sigh Draco reached over to at least play a game of chess with himself. Most unfortunately, the chess set he reached for wasn't there. Draco blinked, then remembered that Crabbe and Goyle had tried to play (emphasis on tried; Draco doubted the two were even capable of remembering what all the pieces did, much less devise brilliant strategies that could crush their opponent in a matter of turns.) his game of chess during the Quidditch match; they had probably left it behind in the ensuing confusion.

If only you knew, Draco. If only you knew.

In the Hogwarts trophy room, a shining silver trophy stood unnoticed in the corner. It was never noticed by anybody, really. But nevertheless it bore two names proudly.

GREGORY GOYLE VINCENT CRABBE

1st PLACE 2nd PLACE

INTERNATIONAL WIZARDING CHESS TOURNAMENT

Idiot savants Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe pushed aside for the moment, we nonetheless have compiled some facts. One, that Crabbe and Goyle lost Draco Malfoy's chess set at the Quidditch pitch. Second, that there is a suspicious lack of Crabbe and Goyle in the Slytherin common room. With a sigh of annoyance, he walked over to the gateway and got out, meandering over to the Quidditch pitch.

The stench had risen to hang high above the pitch, but the seats were still accessible. Scowling with displeasure, Draco quickly found his chess set and was on his way when he discovered a most peculiar book. It had rained recently, but there was no moisture to be detected on the book's pages. Draco was familiar with the Impervius Charm, but he knew that it only lasted for twelve hours at the most. Picking the slim book up, he noted with a small measure of excitement that it was a diary. Eagerly flipping the pages, his face fell and he let out a pout. There was no writing on the bone-dry pages at all. With a sigh of annoyance, Draco stuffed it into his robe's front pocket. He would figure out the book's secret later.

Even a not-so-casual observer would only have been able to glimpse a few words on the book's cover...