Draco Malfoy: Year 1 (Alternate Reality)

Quidditch

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows, defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a long mole- skin overcoat, rabbit-fur gloves and enormous beaverskin boots.
The Quidditch season had begun. Draco reminded Harry that on Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship.
Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry kept telling Draco and Ron he didn't know which was worse – people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him, holding a mattress.
It was really lucky that Draco, Harry and Ron now had Hermione as a friend. They didn't know how they'd have got through all their homework without her, especially for Harry, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making him do. She had also lent Harry, Draco and Ron Quidditch through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.
They learnt that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.
Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry, Ron and Draco had saved her from the mountain troll and she was much nicer for it. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire which could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.
'What's that you've got there, Potter?'
It was Quidditch through the Ages. Harry showed him.
'Library books are not to be taken outside the school,' said Snape. 'Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor.'
'He's just made that rule up,' Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. 'Wonder what's wrong with his leg?'
'Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him,' said Ron bitterly.
'Bet it is. And I have noticed that he has been limping since Halloween too.' Draco said with a laugh.
                                                                  ***
The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry, Draco and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ('How will you learn?'), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway. Harry felt restless. 'Did you get it?' Ron asked as Harry joined them. 'What's the matter?'
In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen.
'You know what this means?' Harry finished breathlessly. 'He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Hallowe'en! That's where he was going when we saw him – he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to create a diversion!'
Hermione's eyes were wide.
'No – he wouldn't,' she said. 'I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe.'
'Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or some- thing,' snapped Ron. 'I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?'
'Maybe whatever Harry saw Hagrid take from the vault back in the Summer?' Draco muttered.
                                                                                               ***
The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.
'You've got to eat some breakfast.'
'I don't want anything.'
'Just a bit of toast,' wheedled Hermione.
'I'm not hungry.'
Draco could tell Harry felt terrible, but he just sat there next to his friend.
'Harry, you need your strength,' said Seamus Finnigan. 'Seekers are always the ones who get nobbled by the other team.'
'Thanks, Seamus,' said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.
By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.
Ron, Hermione and Draco joined Neville, Seamus and Dean, the West Ham fan, up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours.
Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.
Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. The match had started.
'And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too – '
'JORDAN!'
'Sorry, Professor.'
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.
'And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sc– no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that's Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR
SCORE!'
Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans
from the Slytherins.
'Budge up there, move along.'
'Hagrid!'
Ron, Hermione and Draco squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.
'Bin watchin' from me hut,' said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars round his neck, 'But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?'
'Nope,' said Ron. 'Harry hasn't had much to do yet.'
'Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin',' said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skywards at the speck that was Harry.
'Slytherin in possession,' Lee Jordan commented. 'Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?'
A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.
'Foul!' screamed the Gryffindors.
Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.
Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, 'Send him off, ref! Red card!'
'This isn't football, Dean,' Ron reminded him. 'You can't send people off in Quidditch – and what's a red card?'
But Hagrid was on Dean's side.
'They oughta change the rules, Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air.'
Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.
'So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating – '
'Jordan!' growled Professor McGonagall.
'I mean, after that open and revolting foul – '
'Jordan, I'm warning you – '
'All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.'
Harry's broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. Lee was still commentating.
'Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking, Professor – Slytherin score – oh no ...'
The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.
'Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing,' Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. 'If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom ... but he can't have ...'
Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. Harry was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.
'Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?' Seamus whispered.
'Can't have,' Hagrid said, his voice shaking. 'Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.'
At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.
'What are you doing?' moaned Ron, grey-faced.
'I knew it,' Hermione gasped. 'Snape – look.'
Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the
stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath.
'He's doing something – jinxing the broom,' said Hermione.
'What should we do?' Draco asked.
'Leave it to me.'
Before Ron or Draco could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. The Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell.
'Come on, Hermione,' Ron muttered desperately.
'Neville, you can look!' Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.
Harry was speeding towards the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick – he hit the pitch on all fours – coughed – and something gold fell into Harry's hand.
'I've got the Snitch!' Harry shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.
'He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it,' Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference – Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the result – Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ron, Hermione and Draco.
'It was Snape,' Ron was explaining. 'Hermione, Draco and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you.'
'Rubbish,' said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. 'Why would Snape do some- thin' like that?'
Harry, Ron, Draco and Hermione looked at each other, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.
'I found out something about him,' he told Hagrid. 'He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Hallowe'en. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding.'
Hagrid dropped the teapot.
'How do you know about Fluffy?' he said.
'Fluffy?'
'Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –'
'Yes?' said Harry eagerly.
'Now, don't ask me any more,' said Hagrid gruffly. 'That's top secret, that is.'
'But Snape's trying to steal it.'
'Rubbish,' said Hagrid again. 'Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd
do nothin' of the sort.'
'So why did he just try and kill Harry?' cried Hermione.
The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.
'I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!'
'I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!' said Hagrid hotly. 'I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a stu- dent! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel –'
'Aha!' said Harry. 'So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?'
Hagrid looked furious with himself.