(A/N: I'd like to thank you for your wonderful reviews: Allowaycar, Mione291, HeidiHo, Hdawne, Jen KenLee and all the others who are following the story, but don't leave a review. I hope you'll like the next chapter, even if it's a little bit shorter than the others…)
Chapter 8. GRYFFINDOR VERSUS SLYTHERIN
...
No, our love won't be
An adventure
Or a fire which may die in the wind
It will live
As long as the world does
Until my eyes
Will have light to gaze in your eyes.
...
"An adventure" by Lucio Battisti
Harry's week passed by, filled with lessons, homework assignments, and Quidditch practices to prepare the team for their first match the following Saturday, Gryffindor versus Slytherin.
Harry and Ron were still avoiding each other; during Quidditch practice, they tried to talk to each other as little as possible. Once, they had even risked a fight; Harry was shooting impossible Quaffles at Ron, and each time he wasn't able to save the goal, Harry shouted at him like mad. Ron always yelled back, and the other players ended the session frozen in midair, rolling their eyes.
During their practices, Hermione always watched them from the spectators' stands, but Harry tried carefully not to look at her.
Harry was in a really bad mood the entire week and he avoided talking to anyone, even to Hermione, who seemed especially wounded by her best friend's attitude. Even during Occlumency lessons, Harry used all of his anger to repel Snape's mental attacks, causing him to end the lessons early.
As if it all wasn't enough, Harry was still having the same odd nightmare almost every night, the one with the ancient and dilapidated mansion in which he heard a desperate woman screaming. The nightmare always ended with him running along an endless corridor until his scar abruptly started to burn. He kept asking himself the meaning of it, but he couldn't understand what it meant.
Finally, Saturday morning arrived, bringing the first Quidditch match. Harry was eating breakfast, or at least he was pretending to, because all he was able to get down was a couple bites of toast.
While heading to the changing room, he started to feel nervous, as he always did before a Quidditch match. This time, however, he was even more so as it was his first match as captain, and everybody certainly expected a lot from him.
When the players were finally ready, Harry gathered them all in front of him and gave his first pre-match talk.
"We've trained hard for this match, and I'm sure that you won't disappoint me. They're strong, but we're even stronger, because we put our hearts into what we do."
Most of his teammates were staring at him entranced; Ginny was smiling at him, though Ron was stubbornly staring at the ceiling. Then Harry spoke again.
"Now let's go, and let's show everybody what we can do!"
"YEAH!!" They answered together in a loud and excited voice before marching single file out of the changing rooms. Harry was the last one to leave. He really hoped his talk had encouraged his players.
The stadium was amazing: the spectators' stands were full of people screaming and chanting for their Quidditch team. The day couldn't have been better; the sky was a uniform pearly white and there was no wind.
When all the players were ready, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the match started.
Slytherin immediately took possession of the Quaffle and they were already heading towards the Gryffindor goal. Unfortunately, Ron was not able to save the goal.
"Slytherin scores! Ten-zero!"
The match went on and now Ginny had the Quaffle, but she wasn't able to throw it to her teammates, because Stinger from Slytherin had reached her and nudged her hard in the stomach, stealing the Quaffle from her.
The Gryffindor supporters were horrified, but Ginny was still flying. Harry moved toward her to check if she was OK, and she nodded her head.
"Slytherin scores! It's now twenty to zero."
Harry turned to Ron, and for a short moment he asked himself if his ex-best friend was playing badly on purpose, to show everybody that he was a bad captain. The only way to save the game was to catch the Golden Snitch and Harry started to scour the pitch, until he saw it, flying lower, very near to the grass.
Not wasting any time, he dived before realizing that Malfoy was right behind him.
"Another ten points to Slytherin, making the score thirty to zero!"
Harry had almost reached the Snitch; with all his strength he tried to catch it before Malfoy, who in the meantime was on his side, trying to push him off his broom. Suddenly, the Snitch scooted off toward the sky, and Harry zoomed upwards, chasing it. Malfoy was not as fast and he hit the ground face first.
Harry was heading toward the sky like a lightning bolt, the wind in his hair. In that very moment, he lost sight of time and space: it was just him and the Golden Snitch, which was fluttering in front of him. He stretched out his right hand and finally closed his fist around it, feeling its tiny wings struggling in his palm. He had done it! Gryffindor had won against Slytherin.
Afterwards, everything happened so very fast. He felt a terrible blow; something very hard hit him in the head. He couldn't think anymore... He realized that he was falling....
***O***
"Do you think he'll be OK?"
"Yeah... he always is! Believe me, Harry's a really strong guy!"
"But he fell from about 40 meters up!"
"Hey, look... he's opening his eyes."
Harry was slowly regaining consciousness and he found himself lying on a bed in the hospital wing. His friends were gathered around him, but he couldn't see who they were very well, as he didn't have on his glasses.
When he reached his arm over to the table to take them, he felt a sharp pain in his head and decided not to move further.
"Your glasses, Harry."
Hermione handed them to him, and he put them on. Now, he could clearly see his friends' worried faces. Hermione was there, as was Ginny and most of the other players with their Quidditch robes still on. Ron wasn't there.
"What happened?" he asked them in a low voice, and Ginny answered promptly.
"You had just caught the Snitch when Stinger chucked a Bludger at you; it hit you in the back of your head. You fell 40 meters."
"Luckily, Madam Hooch saw the whole thing and transfigured a rock into a mattress. Otherwise, we'd still be looking for your pieces around the pitch!!" said Slovoy, one of the new two Chasers, with a light smile on his face, but Hermione stared at him sternly. Then she spoke sweetly.
"How do you feel? We were all really worried this time! Luckily everybody saw Stinger hit that Bludger at you, and I'm sure that Professor McGonagall will put him in detention."
Harry was still puzzled and didn't know what to say. His head was hurting so much and he thought it was going to explode. Finally, Madam Pomfrey came to him with a soothing potion.
"Come on boys and girls, let him rest. Here we are Mr. Potter, drink this and you'll feel better."
Madam Pomfrey helped him drink the potion, which had a terrible taste, but Harry didn't complain.
When Madam Pomfrey left his bed, Harry spoke to his friends.
"At least we won!"
Hermione stared at him sternly; Harry knew she didn't care about Quidditch as much as he did.
"How can you talk like that? I can't believe that it's more important to win a Quidditch match than to stay alive!"
Harry was tempted to answer back that for him, playing Quidditch was the most important thing, but he remained silent, gazing at her with a silly smile on his face.
Then, Madam Pomfrey asked everybody to leave him alone and they left the hospital wing.
***O***
Harry slept all afternoon, until Madam Pomfrey came to bring him some food. He was feeling slightly better, even though he wasn't yet able to get up. It seemed that the impact had been particularly hard.
After dinner Hermione came to visit him.
"How are you feeling, Harry?"
"As if a train just knocked me down!! Actually, I am feeling a lot better than before, thanks!" answered Harry smiling, as Hermione sat in a chair close to his bed.
"I heard that Professor McGonagall went to Professor Snape complaining about what Stinger had done to you... and Snape gave him detention. But I also heard that he just had him write a few lines," commented Hermione bitterly.
"Typical!"
"But it's not fair! Professor McGonagall should go back to Snape and demand a stronger punishment... I don't like constantly fearing those stupid Slytherins. They're always doing whatever they want, and not getting in trouble!"
"Now you're talking like Filch!"
Harry smiled slightly and stared at her sympathetically, even though she was still upset.
"Well, let's change the topic, then.... Would you like to know what Professor McGonagall told us today before lunch?"
"What?"
Hermione seemed very excited about what she was about to tell him.
"She said that for Halloween, two old friends of ours are going to join Hogwarts students for the banquet. In just three weeks, we are going to see Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum again! And they will stay for the weekend."
"Are you serious? But... why?"
"Professor McGonagall just told us that Dumbledore wanted to invite them for, she said, a 'courtesy visit,' but I'm sure there's another reason."
Harry thought about that for a moment, wondering what the real reason could be. Then Hermione told him her theory.
"I'm sure that this invitation has got something to do with the Order of the Phoenix. Fleur and Viktor were both champions of their schools, and maybe Dumbledore will ask them to join the Order against Voldemort! What do you think about that?"
"You might be right, even if Viktor's Headmaster was a Death Eater in the past. I don't know... the whole story seems odd to me. I don't trust Viktor very much!"
Harry's words offended Hermione, who spoke with a rising anger.
"You're absolutely wrong! I know Viktor very well and I can assure you that he has never been interested in dark magic."
Suddenly, Harry remembered that during their fourth year, Viktor was falling for Hermione, even though he never talked to her about it. He was starting to feel embarrassed again and his stomach felt as if there were thousands of butterflies struggling inside. Without thinking about it, he spoke with a frown.
"Ha, yes... I forgot that Viktor was your boyfriend some time ago!"
Harry was teasing Hermione to see her reaction, and in fact she blushed before answering him back, seemingly annoyed by that statement.
"For your information, Viktor and I never dated! We're just good friends and we wrote a few letters to each other in the past. It's been about a year since he sent me his last letter.... besides, that is none of your business at all!"
Hermione got up and was ready to leave, but Harry grabbed her arm to stop her.
"No, please stay a little more. Being forced to lie on this bed is so depressing!"
Hermione sat again and her mood changed.
"Come on, Harry! Be patient... I'm sure that tomorrow morning you'll be able to leave the hospital wing."
"I really hope so."
Harry sighed and stared at the bedspread. Then he thought about Ron, and he wondered if he knew that he was recovering from that bad fall.
"Ron feels really guilty about how the match went."
Harry raised his head abruptly and looked Hermione in the eye with surprise; again she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Why does he feel guilty?"
"Because he didn't save a single goal. He says that if it wasn't for you, Gryffindor would have lost the match."
"Well, now that you say that... I think Ron really should feel guilty!"
Harry's temper was starting to rise.
"I agree with you, if you mean that Ron didn't do a great job today, but I don't understand why you keep giving him all the blame!"
"Because it was HIS fault! If I hadn't caught the Snitch in time, we would have lost the match. He didn't do anything to stop Slytherin from scoring. You were there, you saw everything!"
"NO, that's not true! I think Ron did his best for..."
"Well, if that was his best, then I think that I'm going to ask him to leave the team!!"
This time Hermione got up in a fury and glared at Harry with anger.
"Why don't you stop talking like that? How can you be so selfish? Ron is still your best friend and he feels bad about it, just like you. You listen to me Harry Potter! I am not going to talk to you again until you make peace with Ron!"
As soon as she finished her sentence, she rushed out of the hospital wing angrily without giving him a chance to reply.
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