Defence, Pretence, Offence (Hecatemus Book #2)

Chapter 55 - Waiting in the Wings

[Want me to take over?] Draco asked and Harry glanced at his soulmate in the stands.

[No,] he replied, [thanks, but I can do this.]

[I know you can,] Draco said, [you just don't have to.]

[I need something to concentrate on.]

[Then I suggest you do because the Slytherin Seeker just tried to take out the Hufflepuff Seeker with a side swipe and you missed it. If you don't watch out they'll have you off your broom.]

Harry took the gentle rebuke for what it was and did his best to get his mind on the game. Usually he could fall into the rhythm of Quidditch with its rehearsed plays, passes and incredible flying. Draco was right, it might not be professional Quidditch, but he still needed to have his mind in the match or Slytherin would find a way to unseat him. Putting his fears for Hilde to the back of his mind, he tried very hard to ref properly.

He managed it for nearly an hour of fast play. Slytherin were playing dirty, but Hufflepuff were giving as good as they got, so the match was relatively even. Harry had to be on his toes to keep up and a near miss with a bludger finally convinced his brain to play ball and stop worrying about things he couldn't change and focus on what he was supposed to be doing.

He had just blown the whistle as Slytherin scored when something in his chest trembled. It was as if a single string inside him had been plucked and was reverberating into his body.

[What is it?] Draco asked.

[I don't know,] Harry replied, but brought his broom to a hover.

It was lucky Slytherin had just scored and the players were returning to position before play continued, because it gave him a moment to track down what he was feeling. Strange things were nothing new to him these days, but this felt new and he was already on edge.

[Is it the bond?] Draco asked.

[I'm not sure.]

The twang came again, longer this time, like a cello string being played, echoing through the hollows of his chest. With it came a momentary flash of something that he couldn't quite catch: fire, darkness, confusion, but nothing that made any sense.

[Yes,] he said, [yes it is.]

He made a decision instantly, bringing his whistle to his lips and sending out a long controlled note.

"Match suspended," he called across the pitch.

Boos immediately came from the crowd, and even the Hufflepuff team were glaring at him. They were in the lead by ten points. Harry didn't have time to worry about that, however, as the sensation came again, even more insistent than before.

"The Vassal calls," he ground out through gritted teeth, entirely against his conscious consent.

[Harry, get to the ground now,] Draco's urgent voice broke through the overpowering demand on his attention.

Even as ancient magic did its best to take away his higher thought processes, Harry put his broom into a shallow dive. Even as the tremor came a fourth time he could see the logic in being on terra firma.

[Focus on me,] Draco told him, [they must be trying to break the oath spell again.]

[I'm trying,] he promised.

Another flash came. This time he knew it was Hilde, he could feel something of the essence of her, but it was confused and remote and he saw nothing helpful. The oath spell was older even than its use with Hecatemae, their research had shown that, and Harry could sense just how archaic it was. It had depths he had never suspected. It wanted him to do something, but he didn't know what.