I still own nothing...Thanks again to Lady Starlight
Chapter 35: Breaking the Bond
***************************Hogwarts**********************************
January 13, 1998
10:00 pm
Harry looked up from one of Dumbledore's journals and gave Hermione a small smile as she came into the common room. Damn, she's cute, Harry thought absently as he took her in with her hair still damp and hanging mostly straight from the shower almost to her arse, a sweatshirt of his hanging loosely over her slender frame and a pair of red flannel pants ending just above her toes. She returned a small grin, as she crossed to the couch and curled up next to him before reaching out to grab her Potions text from the table. She settled in, and began to read.
Harry? she whispered after a minute, stretching across him to gather a still steaming mug of chocolate that had appeared, most likely due to the unseen actions of a certain elf who shall remain nameless. She took a sip, replaced the mug and remained settled across him, rolling so that the arm of the couch held up her shoulders as she looked up at him. He looked at her. When do you want to try to destroy the Horcrux? He shrugged and placed the journal he was reading on the table next to him, before rearranging them both so he could lie down next to her.
As soon as I can make sure it won't kill you, or worse have Tommy use you as a new vessel, Harry replied as he closed his eyes and rested his head next to hers on the arm of the couch.
Or you, Hermione countered, I'd honestly like both of us to make it through this more or less intact.
Yeah, those other scenarios would be a great deal less fun, Harry agreed as his hand snaked up under the hem of her sweatshirt to tickle her along her ribs. She giggled softly as he ran his fingers lightly over the side of one breast before he pulled his hand down to rest over her belly. He pulled her back against him, removing any space between them. Actually, I was thinking.
You know, that's why I make the big Galleons, as they say, you really shouldn't be doing that all that much.
Har, har, Harry replied, with a small grin, leaning forward to nuzzle her ear, Hermione giggled softly, and then sighed as she felt his thoughts slipping back to a hidden room, nine floors below, in the ancient cells below the Hogwarts Dungeons. Rotating teams of House Elves guarded the item at all times, backed up by defensive alarms, three different Killing Wards, Fluffy wearing a specially designed pair of earmuffs to block out music, and a final Immobilization Ward powered by the castle herself, that should be able to restrain even Tom Riddle, at least long enough for Harry, Hermione and the rest of the DA and to arrive. No, I was thinking, Harry went on; well, think about this. Hermione focused her attention on his words, and not on the hand that was slowly tracing circles on her abdomen. Tom had to create the Diary first right? Hermione gave him a mental nod. Then, by all rights it should have been the most powerful, it should have contained what, half of his soul?
Hermione cocked an eyebrow, You may be right, she allowed, leaping ahead in that odd link they had shared for almost seven years, So the Cup and the Locket should be pretty powerful as well, as did the Ring. With a quarter, and eighth and a sixteenth of his soul?
Which would mean that the Staff and Nagini, assuming that they are the sixth and seventh to be created, would have a thirty-second and a sixty-fourth of his soul?
Then, I have an idea, she waited as Harry played with the drawstrings of her flannels for a minute, Get distracted there for a minute, Love? She laughed softly as Harry nodded; I think that I can drive the Horcrux out of the Staff without destroying it. There's a potion that Healers used to use on terminal patients, that lets the soul free of its bonds, gently.
How is that different from the Kedavra? Harry replied, confused. Crookshanks merowed as he took a leap from the floor, landed on Harry's shoulder and pushed off to settle on the top of the couch.
A matter of intent really, she muttered, still slightly distracted. Harry grinned. Are you trying to distract me?
I have to, have to make it fair to the rest of us mere mortals, Harry replied; You're scary, remember?
Yeah, Hermione giggled in her thoughts, anyway...the potion only progresses something that is already in progress. By their very nature, Horcruxes are in a state of decay, held in place by the spells that bind them to their objects. These binding spells are essentially permanent, but they are not, 'natural' for lack of a better term. They can be disturbed.
How does that help us then?
It makes it safer, for us. With this, I can immerse the staff in a cauldron, cast the Negral Cage around the whole thing and capture the soul fragment as it's driven out. And then, she smirked; I would probably use the Gryffindor sword, as it seems to work rather well.
So when can you be ready?
If I can get all the ingredients readily, fortunately, one of the more difficult ones to find, Dried Basilisk Venom, should still be in the remaining fangs below. If I can get everything, I should be able to have it ready by Friday or Saturday.
Harry nodded as Hermione rolled over to face him. She reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair and bit her lip slightly. So you'll start tomorrow?
Yeah, she agreed as she leaned in to meet his lips, I think that would be just fine.
****************************Hogwarts' Lake*****************************
A fresh, crescent moon hung in the sky over the snow-covered Hogwarts grounds as Ron and Luna walked slowly along the path around the lake, hand in hand. Technically, Ron and Luna should not have been outside of the castle this time of night, but Luna had wanted to go for a walk, and Ron hadn't the heart to deny her.
Ron smiled as he looked down at Luna, who was watching the moon breaking free of some low clouds with an enraptured expression on her face. He stopped, pulling her to a halt as well as pulling her into his arms. Luna continued to watch the moon for something, of which Ron neither knew nor cared, as he bent down to nuzzle the top of her head. "Ronnie?" Luna said after a moment.
"Yeah?"
"I want to have our wedding outside at midnight under the moon. It'll have to be a crescent or something, as I want to invite Remus and Tonks. I think it'd be rather impolite of us to schedule it on the full moon, don't you think?" she asked with a slightly childlike glee in her eyes.
Ron just snorted softly. How the bloody hell am I going to get that past Mum? he thought absently; then shrugged again, "Whatever you want, dear." He looked up at the castle. "How about right here, then, by the lake?"
Luna beamed up at him and squealed softly, leaping up to wrap her arms around his neck, "Thank you, Ronnie," she whispered against his lips before kissing him thoroughly enough to drive most rational thoughts from his mind. He merely shook his head after a minute and started off again, leading her along the lake where, at least for tonight, all was right with the world.
*****************************Birmingham********************************
A tall man, clad in a long, charcoal trench coat, slipped through the night to stand at the door of a dilapidated, old town home. He looked up and down the street, at the other, similar Muggle Brownstones, looking and feeling for anything out of the normal. An old man in a dark blue, wool seacoat, was walking a small dog on a lead along the sidewalk on the other side of the winding cobblestone street, but otherwise the street was empty.
The visitor nodded to himself and reached forward to tap on the door, with the very tip of a wand that was otherwise concealed by his sleeve. He touched the wand in seven very specific spots, in a particular order, and after a minute of waiting, the door creaked open to reveal a dark vestibule. He took a breath and quickly stepped within, and kept from jumping at the slamming of the door behind him only by main force of will. The lights snapped on in the vestibule, blinding him as a voice spoke from out of the light, "Wotcher, what is my Patronus?" A slight tickle danced down his spine as he could feel the wands pointing at him from beyond his addled vision.
"It's a bloody Wolf," the man snapped annoyedly, and squinted around the room as the lights dimmed to a normal level. He stepped forward and walked along the hallway that was now revealed after the light had died, and looked down at the witch, "You just had to use that Interrogation Spell, didn't you?" She smiled and shrugged, and motioned for him to precede her. The old, worn, oak flooring creaked under his weight as he walked down the hallway. Kingsley stepped into a large, mostly barren room in front of the young Auror and paused. Slowly his vision panned around the room, taking in almost the entire surviving membership of the Order of the Phoenix. A brief bitter snarl escaped his throat as he looked at around at the, pitifully few members that had survived both the war, and the betrayal of Snape.
The treason of Severus Snape had not cost the Order just its leader, but many others. From the betrayal of Bernstein Flat in his hidden home, to the guards that had died at Privet Drive, his swath had run deep. And now, the few remaining members that had escaped death or serious injury in the months since Dumbledore's death had gathered to discuss their next course.
Upon being prodded by Tonks, Kingsley walked to an empty chair set around a large, oval table next to Alastor Moody. Spread along the table, nursing cups, mugs and flagons of coffee, tea or mead, depending on their preferences, were those that had answered the call to meet here in this old safe house deep in a run down section of Edinburgh, and now waited for Moody to begin. Around the table, the remaining Weasleys-Arthur, Molly, Bill and Fleur, and the Twins; Remus, Tonks, Minerva, along with Kingsley looked at Moody with worn, tired expressions as he coughed loudly and took a drink from a small hip flask.
He looked around the room, his electric eye tracking in the opposite direction from his head, "We need to plan our next interdiction of Death Eater activity..."
**********************Hogwarts*******************************
January 14, 1998
11:29 pm
Hermione sighed and yawned as she stretched and walked the length of a dark, stone room. A soft drip of water echoed into the silence of the hidden room, concealed at the bottom of Gryffindor tower. She paused by a table set with stacks of ingredients, and gallons of a green fluid that smelled slightly of iron and copper. Spinning on her heel, she waved her wand towards the center of the room. Instantly a bright, sapphire-blue fire ignited, heating an extraordinarily large platinum and gold cauldron.
She shook her head as she waved her wand and almost fifty liters of the bright green fluid, blood from a Hibernian Black Dragon to be precise, floated over to the cauldron and poured themselves in with a soft hissing noise. In the entire world, there were exactly five, size fifty, platinum and gold-alloyed cauldrons. One was under careful guard at the Department of Mysteries in London, its mate, cast at the same time, was sitting in the Center for Advanced Potions Research in Salem, Massachusetts. A third was rumored to be in the hands of Severus Snape in the service of Lord Voldemort, and the fourth was in the hands the world's expert on recuperative potions in Buenos Aries, but it was the fifth that was the most interesting. That one had, until just the last day, been hidden away in one of Dumbledore's secret vaults, with a small Muggle post-it-note, that read, "You might need this." Interesting in that the cauldron, irrespective of its possible use in very specialized potions, was worth, perhaps, due to the craftsmanship and materials used, well over ten million Galleons.
Hermione slipped on a pair of shimmering Dragonhide gloves and began to chop several large, squealing, carrot-like roots with a large, silver knife. She blew an errant lock of hair out of her eyes as she began to sweat as the temperature in the hidden room rose precipitously. After several more minutes of chopping, she peeled off the jumper she was wearing, leaving on only a sweat-soaked T-shirt with the legend, "I'm smarter than you...deal with it". The shirt had been from Fred and George for Christmas. She muttered a spell, and fanned her shirt for an instant, as a sudden cool breeze chilled the air immediately surrounding her.
Hermione scraped the cut roots into a large, steel bowl, grabbed a black velvet bag from the ingredients next to them, crossed to the cauldron and dumped them in. She took a breath as she carefully reached into the back with her Dragonhide gloves and removed a large, eight-inch ivory fang. Hermione tossed it into the air over the now-simmering cauldron; it stopped, hovering four inches above the roiling surface of the fluid, which was now a bright, clear yellow. Eyes flickered emerald as she held out her hand, palm lowermost and squeezed it into a fist. In the air, the tooth powered, and flakes of white, along with the dried venom inside, fell into the pot, with pure white flames flaring for an instant at the surface of the potion as it touched. She nodded to herself as the solution instantly turned blue to match the flames heating it.
Zigzags of ivory vapor rose from the pot, smelling of iron and wood and linen. With a flick of a wand and an inward spiral, a large, glass rod, four feet long and an inch thick lifted from the table and began to stir the potion in precise two clockwise, one counter clock wise patterns. With one last inspection of the potion, Hermione looked around the room that had neither windows or doors, took a step backwards, and vanished.
She reappeared almost exactly nine stories above, and looked across the bedroom, to find Harry barely holding his eyes open as he poured over a large plan of Hogwarts. Hermione shook her head as she paced over to him, toeing off her trainers as she crossed the room and kicking them in the general direction of their closet. After pulling off her still sodden t-shirt and tossing it across the room to land in a large, half-full hamper, she wrapped her arms around him from behind and looked over his shoulder at the plans. "It'll be ready in a few days, love," she whispered. He nodded, preoccupied, as she kissed the top of his head and stepped back, "I'm going to take a shower before bed to get the Dragon blood smell off." Harry glanced back as she grinned at him crookedly.
"Need any help with that?" he replied, his voice slightly lower than usual.
"I might," Hermione replied, before she turned, stripping her bra off as she moved. She vanished into the bathroom, and after a moment, the sound of water raining on marble echoed through the open door into the bedroom. Harry grinned as he stood, flicked his wand at the map, causing it to vanish with a pop, and walked briskly to the bathroom, having suddenly decided that he could stand a bit of freshening up as well.
**************************The Great Hall*********************************
January 16, 1998
7:00 am
The Head Students of Hogwarts slipped into the large hall, just as the Post Owls, which were running a bit early, took off through the skylights and out into the overcast skies beyond. They walked down the long, length of the tables feeling the normal sensation of every eye watching their progress, before talking seats next to Ron. They waved to Luna as she kissed Ron, before leaving to get in a bit more study before a Charms exam. Ron looked after her forlornly, his face tired, as he looked through a large, battered notebook of Quidditch plays.
He looked at Harry, his eyes never leaving his friend as Harry served himself breakfast from the platters in front of him. Harry took a goblet of pumpkin juice from Hermione, giving her a small smile, before sighing slightly and taking out a DADA book to study for an exam that he really didn't need to study for. Hermione joined him; propping Potions that you Probably Shouldn't Make, but are Going to Anyway up against the pewter pitcher of juice and settling in against Harry's side. She took a bite of a muffin, turned a page and glanced up at Ron. She watched him still staring at Harry, she shrugged, looked down and turned another page. After a minute she looked up, noticed Ron still looking and mentally nudged Harry in Ron's direction.
Harry looked up from his book, his eyebrows raised, "Can I help you, Ron?" he asked amusedly. Harry took a sip of his drink and waited.
"Harry, mate, my best friend in the whole world..."
"Yes?"
"Are you...sure, that you can't play this weekend," Ron pleaded. He gave Harry his best smile.
"No, Ron, I gave it up..." Harry returned with a soft, weary note to his voice, the one of one who has been asked the same question innumerable times, and gave the same result each time. He looked at Hermione, "Honestly, I'm not sure that we will be able to make it, at all, mate."
Ron rolled his eyes, "You two can shag any..."
Hermione growled and straightened from Harry's shoulder. She took a breath, "Honestly, Ronald, unlike you, perhaps, we do occasionally perform other tasks, than stuff our faces or satisfying our desires," Hermione hissed caustically. Under the table, Harry lightly squeezed her thigh. Sorry, Harry, I'm still a touch tired from working on that Potion last night; she whispered an apology. Harry shrugged, and gave a fleeting motion towards Ron with his head. "Sorry, Ron," she muttered, not looking all that apologetic really.
Harry hid a smirk, before looking up at Ron, "Why, Ron?" He took a drink of his juice, and set his book aside, waiting for the answer. Behind him, the Creevey brothers ran into the hall, looking as if they thought they were late. Harry glanced towards them, before looking back to Ron.
"I need a seeker, Mate, really," Ron explained and glanced back towards the Creeveys, "Dennis is alright...I guess, but he's not you, or even-Ginny." Ron frowned slightly, "there's rumors that a professional scout is here from one of the teams." A slightly glassy, happy look crossed the redhead's face, and Harry felt a sinking sensation in his belly.
He took a breath, looked down at the table for a moment, and felt Hermione looking at him. She gave him a small smile, as Harry looked up, "No, Ron," he whispered, glancing around to see if the area was clear, "we will have our best chance to take care of, you know what..."
"I suppose it would be," Ron agreed, he looked down at the playbook he was still going through, "but shouldn't Luna and I be there, just in case? Won't it be more dangerous if you try to...by yourselves?" He paused as several fourth years walked past, chattering about a Kneazle that one of them had gotten as a Christmas present. It had evidentially scratched some fifth year Ravenclaw with less than honorable intentions towards its mistress. "Shouldn't you wait until after, I mean we could..."
"No, Ron," Harry replied, not wanting to upset Ron further, the running 'discussion' between him and Ron had been going on since this summer, with Ron not, quite understanding, why Harry would give up the...calling of Quidditch, even for such a thing as a pesky Dark Lord threatening their very existence. Not that Ron underestimated the impact of Voldemort on their lives, he would be one of the last ones to do so, but, it was...Quidditch. Ron looked at Harry for a moment longer, then just nodded.
"Fine, but if I don't see you two in the stands before the end of the game..." Ron let the statement drop, and Harry abruptly rethought his earlier musings.
*************************Little Hangleton***********************
"Lucius," Tom Riddle hissed as he strode into the room, a long dark stone room deep beneath the ancient Riddle House. Lucius looked up, flicking his wand and letting the night's entertainment fall to the floor. McNair flicked his wand at the battered remains. A terrible green flash lit the room before the Death Eaters knelt before their Lord and Master.
"Yes, M' Lord?" Lucius replied without raising his eyes from the floor. They had still not recovered favor from the fiasco, for both sides, of the aborted siege of Beauxbatons. They had reduced the school, yes, destroyed Durmstrang after first recruiting the significant numbers of sympathizers there, but the main attack on the school led by a member of Dumbledore's hated Order, had not gone all that well in the end for the Death Eaters. Beauxbatons had proven unexpectedly difficult to reduce, in the beginning, and it had only gone downhill from there, as a torrent of Portkeys had delivered relief.
Voldemort paused as he looked around the room at the Death Eaters prostrating themselves before him. He sneered slightly at the body of the Auror they had captured just on the outskirts of the town; he had never realized just how close he was to his quarry until too late. Finding nothing to punish, Riddle went on, "You and McNair, go, go to the Giant lands and...re-impress my, desires on the Gurg." He turned and looked back to the rear of the room, "Bella," he said the witch who had followed him into the room. She was looking down at the body, licking her lips slightly. "let us go, I am feeling a bit...peckish."
*********************************Hogwarts*****************************
January 17, 1998.
12:05 pm
Harry frowned slightly as he looked to the southwest, frowning. Even deep, deep behind the stones of the great castle Harry thought he could still hear the cheers of the crowd. He sighed, before looking across the hidden chamber to find Hermione looking at him. He could read the sympathy in her eyes as he pushed off from the wall and paced over to her. She was standing with her arms propped on a small table, with the Ravenclaw staff lying across it. "Let's get this over with, Hermione," Harry said curtly. He dropped his eyes instantly, "Sorry, Mione."
Hermione walked around the table the stood close in front of him. She reached down and took his hands in hers; she rose slightly on her toes to kiss his scar lightly, "You don't have to apologize to me, love."
"I know," Harry replied with a small, tired smile.
"I never said that you shouldn't, however," Hermione smirked slightly as she leaned forward, shuddering briefly as she felt the darkness rise from the Staff, pressing towards them. Hermione sighed as Harry squeezed her hands, and the darkness fell back. She looked at him, as he gazed at her over the top of his glasses, them being unneeded this close. "I'm sorry, Harry, I wish you could be out there."
"You were terrified every time I play, anyway," Harry whispered, a tiny grin in his eyes as he kept them focused on hers, not daring to dart a look to the object behind her. "And you are the last person that should be sorry, you know whose fault that is. It's definitely not yours, not Ron's, anyone's, anyone that counts really."
"You know that Ron still has your name on the roster," Hermione muttered as she let her head fall forward until their foreheads were touching.
"He's an eternal optimist," Harry grinned and Hermione snorted. She sighed and he nodded, before giving her hands a squeeze before dropping them. Hermione took a step back, and turned to the Staff and the huge cauldron simmering over bright blue flames beyond. The once green and then yellow solution was now a deep, deep red, with an oddly oily surface. She felt Harry coming up behind her, and she could also feel the Sword of Gryffindor as it appeared in Harry's hand. Hermione looked back over her shoulder.
"As soon as the Staff goes into the potion," Hermione explained quietly, more to hear herself talk than anything, "I will start the spell for the Negral Cage. With this, I don't have any idea how long it should take to force it out. The soul fragment may emerge before I have the enclosure done." Harry nodded. "I still think that we should have, had a phoenix..." Hermione muttered, and Harry shrugged, they were out of time.
**********************Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts************************
"Ravenclaw has the Quaffle," Luna announced disinterestedly as the Ravenclaw Chasers swept downfield. The Chaser swept beneath Dezmelda, spun right and shot at Ron. "THE KING SAVES IT!" Several of the Ravenclaws looked up at her oddly; then shrugged, it was Luna after all, and it wasn't as if the two houses were out for each other's blood. Ron took an instant, catching his breath before he flung the ball half the length of the pitch directly into Dezmelda's hands.
***********************Under Gryffindor Tower*************************
Hermione gave Harry a long, searching look as she gestured towards the small table holding the Staff and the simmering
kettle of potion. She took a breath, gathering power and her thoughts, as Harry's knuckles tightened on the halt of
a thousand-year-old blade. A faint shimmering glow danced along the infinitely sharp edge, like a frozen, blue flame,
as he gave her a tiny, resigned smile and a nod.
Her eyes slipped almost closed, becoming only thin slits, through which a bright green glow spilled. She clasped her hands together at her chest as in prayer, then flung them wide, ENCLOSIUM. A bright gold circle snapped into being, around both of them, the cauldron and the table. Hermione waved, and the Staff rose from the table, floated over to the simmering cauldron and dropped in, with a small splash.
Instantly, the surface of the liquid started to boil fiercely, and turned the deepest of blacks. Hermione's lips moved, muttering long, dense streams of High Latin as she streaked the tip of her wand though a complicated aerial formula. A fiery circle appeared, just enclosing the cauldron. Lines of fire shot back and forth within it, bisecting the cauldron to form a five-pointed star. She continued as the boiling redoubled, and a soft wind began to pick up. A second circle, appeared, perpendicular to the first, and filled in. A third, then fourth, each bisecting the areas between the first and the second followed, and slowly, hoops of fire began to fill in the corresponding sphere, forming floating, flaming bars.
Hermione did not dare glance away towards Harry as she felt him gathering magic, she did not dare stop muttering the commands to fill in the cage bars. With a sudden rush of energy towards the cauldron, the temperature, once sweltering in the small, hidden, circular space, became artic. She shivered, as tendrils of ice started to form on the floor as the surface of the liquid in the cauldron became as still as death, and the bluebell flames she had summoned into existence under the pot, vanished.
Three bars, then two, then only one remained to contain the cage. The top of the solution exploded and a dark, howling presence with deep, hateful red eyes rocketed out of the cauldron, escaping its entrapment, just as the last bar closed, a millisecond too late. The hated red eyes locked to Hermione, detecting her spell and arrowed towards her.
For a terrible, heart stopping instant, Hermione was back in Grimmauld Place as the Locket was destroyed and the soul fragment was coming for her. But, with a snap of power, the cage was broken as she felt herself flying backwards, away from the soul fragment. She shot directly towards Harry, just as she was about to hit him, Harry spun in place, dodging her, and rolling into the path of the mindlessly pursuing Fragment of the Dark Lord. His sword came up and around with his movements, trailing a line of fire, and intersected the fragment.
A thunderbolt slammed to earth three feet away from Harry, throwing him backwards into the stone walls of the chamber, only being saved by a desperate Cushioning Charm cast by Hermione as a searing wave of green energy knocked her back into the wall as well. A terrible, horrible scream filled their ears, before the Fragment died with a BANG.
Harry looked up, from his crumpled position at the base of the wall, and as watched as the room faded to black.
Harry's vision returned slowly, fuzzily as he painfully opened his eyes, moaned, and looked up into a pair of chocolate eyes gazing worriedly into his own. Hermione bit her lip as she reached up to brush hair from his forehead, her hand trembled slightly as she held her face close enough to share his breath, "Are you, alright, Baby?" she whispered.
Harry did not answer, or bother to ask where his glasses were this time; he reached over and pulled her on top of him, hugging her to him like a safety blanket. Hermione let her head fall to his chest and closed her eyes for a bit as she could hear their pounding heartbeats slowing together. She sighed softly as she felt his lips brush the top of her hair, before she raised a free hand, to relight the candles spread about the room. "That was," Harry said softly after another few minutes, "almost...anticlimactic."
Hermione giggled softly, "Yeah, I guess." She closed her eyes and settled against him more closely, "Night, Harry," she whispered, yawning.
Harry lifted his head enough to look down at the top of her head, where it rested just below his chin, before raising his wrist enough to see his watch; he then groaned and pushed at her to move. Hermione muttered and snuggled down tighter to him, Harry rolled his eyes, before he raised his hand up and caught his glasses as they floated over from a far corner of the room, C'mon, Mione, Harry whispered, his free hand slowly rubbing down her back. He held his glasses close to his eyes and muttered imprecations as he took in the cracked and shattered lenses and bent frames, We need to get to the game...and if you don't mind.
Hermione rolled her eyes without opening them, Oculus Reparo, she replied, waving in the general direction of Harry's head. Instantly the cracks in the lenses melted away, the frames straightened until they looked as new. We should probably change, she mentioned, fingering a burnt hole in her shirt that she had somehow picked up.
**********************Hogwarts, Quidditch Pitch**************************
The Quaffle shot downfield, soaring past the stands. A brief, golden blur flashed past, going straight up, being chased by a pair of robed shapes, one in blue, one in red. Harry smiled slightly as he slipped into the Gryffindor box, taking a pair of empty seats behind Parvati and Lavender. The girls turned and smiled at them, before returning to the game. Hermione leaned forward, stretching the "Potter 7" of Harry's old Quidditch Jumper tautly across her back, to talk to the girls about something. From the giggles and the fact that they were looking back at him, and over at Neville next to Lavender, Harry knew it was probably at the expense of the male subset of the species.
He looked over and jumped up, shouting as Ron saved another goal. Luna's ecstatic voice came over the air, "THE KING STRIKES AGAIN...HE IS STILL HOLDING THE EAGLES TO A SHUTOUT." Harry looked over and caught sight of an middle-aged wizard, sitting in the visitor's box, the man was wearing a orange jacket, with a dark, brown fedora pulled low over thinning hair.
Harry shrugged and bent forward to talk to Neville, "What have we missed?" Harry yelled in his ear, to be heard over the cheers of the crowd.
Neville glanced back; then quickly forward as a sudden exchange of Bludger hits took out a Chaser for each side and Hooch blew her whistle, pausing play while Poppy hurried out to the midfield to check on the players. "Ron's held them scoreless, which is a bloody damn good thing seeing as Dennis's hopeless." Neville waved vaguely towards where Dennis hovered in the air, waiting for the game to resume. "He's...Ron, I mean, been, brilliant really today, Ravenclaw's had like twice the number of shots we've had. We're only up like five goals..." Neville grinned slightly, "At least when you were playing, even back when Ron was totally pants at Keeping, we knew the game would be pretty quick. This may take, days."
As if Neville had developed sudden Seer powers, Madame Hooch blew the whistle and immediately he was proven correct. The Snitch appeared from nowhere and flitted around the heads of both House's Seekers, before vanishing into the bright, warm sun as if an illusion. Harry groaned, knowing he could have grabbed the ball, five, six times before it had vanished. Without looking up from her conversation with the girls, Hermione squeezed his hand, running her thumb over his ring. She sat up, leaning against him, as they watched, Ron mostly, as he was easily the best playing player on either team as he saved yet another shot on Goal, wrapping both legs around his broom and dangling like a bat, upside down to snatch the bright red ball. "OH MERLIN...." Luna screamed, and in the Visitor's Box, the orange-garbed spectator hurriedly took a series of notes in a notebook.
After another hour in which Ron, finally let two shots in, but only after almost dying when Peakes and Coote let both Bludgers past them, and he had to flee for his life, the game finally, mercifully, came to an end.
A flash of gold appeared over the top of the Gryffindor hoops, and from either side of the Pitch, two brooms streaked towards the tiny, golden ball. Ron looked up, and dove down as another shot on goal came his way, he caught the ball, dancing under his flashing Seeker, as Dennis shot from the right, he looked back up and yelled a warning, too late as from the other side, the Ravenclaw seeker, Melissa Horne, collided with him ten feet above the center ring. The Snitch came loose, tumbling through the air and landing in Dennis' almost limp hand. The pair spiraled down, fluttering like huge oak leaves to the grass far below.
Thinking quickly, Ron pulled up hard and cast an Arresto Momentum on the pair, slowing their fall to a gentle walk. Dennis shook his head as he touched down, looked at his hand and thrust it triumphantly in the air.
"GRYFFINDOR WINS...I guess?" Luna announced, ambivalently.
Harry sighed, helplessly, as Hermione gave him a sympathetic look before she took his hand and let him lead her to the stairs and down to the pitch to congratulate Ron. They pushed their way though the thronging crowd, past Hagrid as he stomped towards the castle, and around a screaming throng of fourth year Gryffindor Girls that were giggling at Peakes and Cootes as the Gryffindor Beaters were holding court in the center of the pitch.
They stopped as they found Ron standing, talking to the Orange-robed wizard from before. Ron had a slightly stunned look on his face as he slowly nodded, and Luna held onto his arm and bounced up and down happily. The man said a final parting comment and shook Ron's hand. He took off in the opposite direction from the castle, towards the carriages back to Hogsmeade.
Harry and Hermione approached and watched, amused, as Luna looked up at Ron with a beatific expression. Ron gazed at her, still stunned as Harry shouted, "Oi, what's with the guy in orange?"
Ron turned to Harry with a poleaxed look on his face, "He...uhh offered me a tryout for the Cannons," Harry's jaw dropped slightly as Ron went on hurriedly, "Stonewall's retiring this year, and everybody knows that Johnson's not really up to his league...they are needing replacements. I'm to report for tryouts in June, for at least the replacement squad until the end of the season in September."
Harry smiled, hugely and reached out, pulling his brother into a hug, "Congrats, mate, I'm happy for you." Harry let go and smiled up, hugely towards his friend.
Ron frowned slightly, as he looked after the departed scout for the Cannons, "Um, Harry...he said that he saw you play last year and the year before, and they talked to Viktor, when he was here talking to Puddlemere, you are invited to show up at camp with me, if you want."
"We'll see," Harry replied, still smiling, convincingly to everyone except Hermione, who hid her own frown. "You need to go see to your team, Mate," Harry said, waving towards the rest of the team, who were currently laughing with Dennis over the outcome of the game. Ron smiled and nodded, before patting Harry on the shoulder and heading over.
Harry?
I'm fine, Hermione, Harry reassured her, with a smile that she didn't believe.
A/N There we go, sorry it was a bit on this one, I've been busy. Next chapter...A whole bunch of stuff comes to a head. Literally. And a suggestion of Hermione's that she gave to someone a long time ago comes to fruition.