The following day was a flood of whispered rumours in alcoves and blank stares in their direction. It seemed like overnight the entire school had found out about the fours' tussle with the troll, and no one was more furious than Draco Lucius Malfoy.
"What in Godric's name were you thinking?! You could have been killed going after Granger of all people! I thought you were a Ravenclaw, but I guess I better go ask the sorting hat to try again because Ron bloody Weasley would have been more careful!" His pale skin was flush with brilliant pink, and his eyes were bright, sparkling with anger. The other three looked sheepish at least, Padma patting Malfoy on the shoulder.
"We should have told you what we were doing Draco, I apologise. We were only thinking about Hermione's safety- after all I was the reason she wasn't safe in the first place." Her matter-of-fact tone was befitting of a doctor's clinicality, but it did the trick to diffuse the Malfoy rage and Draco huffed indignantly.
"I cannot believe the rumours Parkinson was going on about this morning." The blonde took his place opposite Harry on the table, spooning a handful of scrambled eggs onto his plate. "Did you really kill the troll? AND you got detention for it? Rotten luck."
"It's better than dying I guess but I understand why they gave us detention."
"Did Granger get one?"
"No, I didn't." Hermione appeared behind them. Her eyes were slightly red-rimmed and black circles ringed honey brown eyes. Her hair was bushier than normal, if it was even possible. She sat down next to Draco, who wrinkled his nose but didn't respond.
"Good morning Hermione." Lewis chirped from beside her; no matter what he always had a sunny disposition. He offered her a ladle, "Porridge? It's rather good this morning."
Harry looked out over the sea of blue to the red. "Do you know where Neville is? He's not usually late to breakfast." Padma's expression soured.
"He's with Seamus and Dean this morning, apparently he didn't want to be isolated in his own house, so he'll spend breakfast in Gryffindor from now on." Harry hummed in acknowledgement, eyeing the cheese scones with intense deliberation. Padma huffed good-naturedly, and moved two onto his plate. "Stars Harry you're skinny as it is, just eat them!"
Cheese scones were his favourite.
--
It was in charms that Harry realised he wasn't going to be able to spend the evening researching runes as he planned. While praising Harry for his natural elegance with aquamenti, (as opposed to Finnegan's explosion of boiling water that no one was positive was possible with such a spell) he slipped a thin white piece of parchment on the desk. The looping cursive script was a date, time and where. His detention this evening with Flitwick. Harry liked Flitwick, he was kind and jovial and seemed to genuinely appreciate Harry's love of charms, which was something only one other person had ever done before, Lady Magic.
After dinner Harry shrugged apologetically to his friends and walked the long corridors to where he remembered Flitwick's office being. The stones seemed to wink merrily at him as he knocked on them, and the stones, turned door, swung open to reveal the charms master.
"There you are mister Potter! Now the headmaster asked me to oversee your detention, and I'd like you to just complete a simple essay about the anima charm. I heard you were quite fond of it from your friend, Miss Patil." Harry smiled, as Flitwick laughed, his face ruddy with glee. "It's one of my favourites as well." The paper cat and dog were long gone from his desk, but a set of trilling paper birds perched on the top of a muggle desk lamp that lit classwork he appeared to have been marking. Harry dropped his bag down on the plush rug and pulled out his quill to begin writing.
It had only been about twenty minutes into the two hours he was assigned, but Harry had finished quickly, and who could blame him? It was his favourite charm currently, one that he was still working to perfect.
"Sir, is the anima charm the only animation charm that people use?" Flitwick, who had been shuffling some papers on his desk, set them down to look over his spectacles at him.
"No it's not actually. Anima works best on lightweight objects like parchment and canvas. There are other charms, Dos anima and calx anima, that work best with wood and stone respectively."
"What about flowers? Could I charm a rose, for instance, to act like a dog?" Flitwick chuckled at the image.
"That's quite the imagination Mr. Potter. You certainly can but it's not quite an animation charm in the same way." He pulled out his wand, beechwood with long squiggly waves etched into the handle. "Observe."
On his desk was a small tulip Harry hadn't noticed at first, it hadn't bloomed at first, but when Flitwick tapped his wand to it, it bloomed magnificently. The petals transformed into a snout, and long floppy ears, and the tulip began to bark happily at the young boy, who patted it gingerly like it was going to bite. Aunt Marge's Ripper certainly did.
"You can also turn things into flowers, like so." Another tap of the wand and a thin sheet of paper rose up and folded into a flowerbud. It then bloomed into a lily, wilted, and bloomed again in a continuous loop. It was breathtaking. The paper didn't quite look like paper anymore, it had the soft velvet look of a real flower petal, and the faint speckling of auburn pollen in the air. Harry was enraptured by the loop, birth and death and rebirth again and again. "You know," Flitwick said, breaking Harry from the spell. "You mother, Lily, was a charms prodigy. Her favourite was this one too. The charm is Silve anim and I'm sure you'll perfect it in no time." Harry nodded, and Flitwick handed him the paper flower, still blooming and dying in a beautiful cycle. "Go on then Mr Potter! I'm sure that constitutes your detention for today!" And with a heavy head, thoughts swirling, he left, back up to the common room.
--
The following weeks were spent practicing quidditch and charming paper flowers. His paper flowers bloomed as he wanted, but the wilting blackened the stem, and the flower was stuck as soon as it had come to life. The first game was looming this afternoon, and the stinging nettles of nerves were blooming in the pit of his stomach.
"You'll be fine Harry. Go on have some toast, you're going to need your strength." Padma had a concerned expression, eyebrows knitted together as she moved to butter some toast for him.
"Don't worry Potter it's just the Puffs Ravenclaw is going to crush them, their only good player is that fourth year Diggory- you could fly circles around him!" Draco thumped him on the back. "We're all going to be in the stands supporting you- the whole of slytherin too! Ravenclaws and Slytherins always support each other." Harry smiled weakly and nibbled at his toast. Yeah. He was going to be fine.
Davies shows up moments later, and Harry follows, filled with a static nervous energy that kept his fingers twitching even as he hurried to keep up. The changing room was full of chatter, as the Ravenclaw quidditch team sat in a row, waiting for Davies and Harry to file in.
"So Guys." Davies started, a serious expression spreading over his features. "The first game of the season. I've been looking at Puff's strategies, we've practised, and Potter can outfly all of us here." Harry went red and the beaters chuckled. "We've got this. Harry, don't dawdle, get that snitch as soon as possible. I want a quick and easy game. Bexley, Quirke, keep the bludgers off Potter, Rickett and Fleet have a nasty swing. Corran Balaji, follow my lead and flank where you can. We've got this in the bag."
The stands were packed with already cheering students. He wasn't sure from this distance, but Harry swore he could pick out his friends, even Draco, gathered in the Ravenclaw stands. Harry gripped his nimbus in very tight fingers. The two teams, brilliant blue and sunny yellow met in the middle of the field. Davies towered over Cadwaller, but as tall as Davies was Cadwaller was wide. They shook hands, mounted their brooms, and the whistle blew. The game had begun.
Instantly Harry rose over forty feet, scanning wildly for any glint of gold as he looped and dived, warming up for the game. He wanted this to be quick, but things seldom were, and Diggory was a sweet kid, but a formidable seeker.
"Corran catches the quaffle right away, no hesitation from this Ravenclaw chaser! Rickett and Fleet are chasing close but not as close as Davies. This is already shaping up to be an exciting game ladies and gentlemen! Corran passes to Balaji, who catches with ease. Fleet hits the bludger but oh! Quirke is faster, he's looking at a nasty bruise tomorrow! Balaji aims for a hoop, and! Oh what a miss! Cadwaller hits it out, right into Appleby's arms! Being captain of the Hufflepuff team, Cadwaller hasn't let a quaffle in in years, and it looks like that streak is going to continue!" the commentator booms over the stadium, and yet Harry can barely hear it over the thundering of blood in his ears. He sees Diggory dive, and pulls to do the same until wait- bluff! Harry sees a flash of gold across the stadium. In an effort not to give it away, Harry follows a lazy loop in that direction, keeping his distance from Rickett who seems to be lining up a shot.
"Appleby passes to Jones, Jones to Doherty and back again, it seems they're trying to confuse Ravenclaw's beaters but-! Now that looks like it hurt! Bexley smashes the bludger right into Appleby, she drops the quaffle! Can she regain it again! No! Davies swoops in and thunders across the pitch. He passes to Corran, and she aims again and! Score! I guess Cadwaller can't keep his streak forever! Ten points to Hufflepuff!!"
There's something wrong with his broom. There's something REALLY wrong with his broom. Harry tries to move forward but his Nimbus bucks him. His grip slips, and he's hanging on thirty feet up, by his hands. The snitch has drawn Diggory in but he hasn't moved closer. He hears gasps from the audience but he's panicking so much his vision blurs.
From the stands, Draco turns to Hermione.
"Look at Quirrel, he's murmuring something! I think he's jinxing the broom!" Hermione gasps.
"But he's a teacher! Why would he do that?"
"Does it matter Granger?! Agrippa's tits we have to distract him! Come on!" The pair sneak through the stands to under the teacher's section. Draco looks helplessly at Hermione but the muggleborn is determined.
"Flamente," she whispers, and a small jet of flames spews out of her wand. Quirrell's on fire now and he jumps up in stuttered surprise. Hermione looks through the commotion and sure enough Harry's broom had stopped trying to kill him.
Harry pants from the effort as he manages to begin to descend. He's lost sight of the snitch, he thinks, and the cheers mean that someone's scored again. There, close to the ground, there it is again. Diggory looks at him, to make sure he's alright and Harry nods. The kindness of Hufflepuff's will forever astound him. They begin to dive and Diggory's fast but Harry is faster, he flattens himself against his broom and Diggory pulls up, knowing he can't make it, Harry jumps, hitting sand as he almost swallows the snitch whole. He holds it up, beaming, and the crowd cheers.
"Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Ravenclaw wins!"