As we entered the cool month of November, everyone was excited to begin the Quidditch season.

After going to the nurse, she healed my foot to the best of her ability but, her magic could only do so much. Since the injury was so brutal, I would still be forced to wear a cast for two weeks. While I had to stay in the medical wing for a couple of days, I was happy to learn that Hermione, Ron, and Harry had become friends. They visited me every day, during their breaks, until I was released.

It was now Saturday, and we were all eating breakfast together.

The entire table was jovial, knowing that Harry was going to be playing our first ever game of the season tomorrow.

I knew that he had been training for weeks and was sure that he would do well. Hermione and I had been helping him with his homework, so he could balance his training schedule with his work schedule.

Hermione had also become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since befriending Harry and Ron. I suspect they have rubbed off on her a bit.

Snape began crossing the Great Hall, heading right towards us, "What's that you've got there, Potter?"

Harry picked up his Quidditch Through the Ages book that Hermione had lent him and showed it to him.

"Library books are not to be taken to the Great Hall," Snape held out his hand. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"How is your leg, Ella?", Snape asked me.

I brightly smile before pulling it out for him to see, "Healing well, thank you. Would you like to sign it?"

He scoffs, looking at it in disgust, "I would never sign such a filthy thing."

I smile in amusement before turning back to the table.

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily once Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.

↤|🌊|↦

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy this afternoon, so Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat close together next to a window so we could hear each other.

I was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them while Hermione checked mine. She would never let them copy our work asking 'how will they learn?'.

Harry seemed jittery and after talking to us for a bit, jumped up declaring he was going to, "Ask Snape for the book back."

"Better you than me," Ron shrugged. Once Harry left we continued our conversation but, it wasn't long before he came bursting in the room again.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked a sweaty Harry. "What's the matter?"

Harry whispered that he had seen Snape getting his mangled leg, wrapped up in bandages by Filch while muttering about the Cerberus guarding the trap door. "You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! 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 make a diversion!"

I shake my head, not choosing to believe it, "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. He is a true friend to my godfather. Maybe he got a sprain from carrying me."

"Honestly, Ella, you think all teachers are saints or something. And what kind of sprain is that anyway?" Ron looked at me in annoyance. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

I fold my arms across my chest and ignore the rest of their whimsical blubbering. It can't be Snape.

↤|🌊|↦

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of delicious food and cheerful faces, eager to see the quidditch game.

Harry seemed extremely nervous, realizing the pressure he was under. I passed him some toast, "You've got to eat some breakfast"

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," urged Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

"Harry, you need your strength," Seamus added. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," Harry groaned.

By eleven, we had all congregated to the stadium and were waiting for the game to begin. I wasn't as excited as everyone else, but I still wanted to support Harry.

Hermione, Ron, and I managed to find good seats at the bottom, with Neville, Seamus, and Dean and were sharing a huge bucket of popcorn. We all brought a pair of binoculars so we would be able to see everything, the stadium was not made for the spectators but more the players.

We had created a poster for Harry. Dean, who was an amazing artist drew a lion and a golden snitch, while Hermione spelled the poster to flash different colors. I simply used my calligraphy to write 'Go Harry Potter'.

Once the players were outside, I noticed that Newt was a seeker for Slytherin. It was an impressive feat for someone only in their second year, although Harry may have set the record for the youngest seeker.

Maybe this game wouldn't be so bad after all.

We all began cheering however when we saw Harry fly out with the twins. They all got in position.

I heard Madam Hooch give a loud blast on her silver whistle before they were off.

Lee Jordan begins commentating on the game, "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too —"

"JORDAN!", Professor McGonagall's voice enters the mic. I laugh at the twin's best friend, Lee Jordan.

"Sorry, Professor."

"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, the Slytherins 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 the Gryffindors 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 the Slytherins — that's star player Newt Scamander speeding after the seeker but blocked by a second quaffle — looks like he lost it — that bludger was 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 goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

We all cheer for our first score.

There was someone moving through the crowds, "Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!", Ron exclaims, seeing the figure's first.

Ron, Hermione, and I squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck with a grin, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," Ron shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," Hagrid, raises his binoculars and peers up to the sky at the speck that was Harry.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan continued, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?"

We all froze, trying to see the small golden ball through our binoculars.

Suddenly there was a, WHAM!, as Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" we all screamed.

Madam Hooch ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor.

In the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling furiously, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean adamant. "In soccer, you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid sided with Dean. "They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

"So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —", Lee Jordan said. before correcting himself, "I mean, after that open and revolting foul —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 to play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Harry's broom began to mess up again, but this time it was out of control.

The Nimbus Two Thousand was trying to buck Harry off. Harry couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air and making violent movements.

Lee was still commentating, unaware. "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 — Slytherins score — oh no . . ."

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbles. 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. . . ."

I was speechless, as I watched my best friend be carried up into the air by his broom. His broom then rolled over and over, with Harry only just managing to keep a firm grip on the handle. The entire crowd was watching now. In the blink of an eye, Harry was dangling from his broom, by one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered to me.

"Can't have," I shook my head. "Nothing can interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic — no ordinary student could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione took my binoculars, looking in the crowd.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape — look."

Ron grabbed my binoculars next before gasping and handing them to me. Indeed Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite us, muttering nonstop under his breath while looking at Harry.

"He's doing something — jinxing the broom," Hermione accused.

"What should we do?", Ron asked. While I said, "Maybe he is trying to help Harry gain better control," which seemed to fall to deaf ears.

Hermione got up from her seat, "Leave it to me."

Before Ron or I could say another word, Hermione had disappeared into the crowd.

The twins were trying to safely move Harry to one of their brooms, but every time they tried, he would only jerk higher in the air. They decided the only thing they could do was wait under him if he fell.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron whispered desperately after looking through my binoculars.

Whatever Hermione did, it helped. The broom stopped moving, and Harry was able to clamber back on his broomstick.

Harry was speeding toward the ground, probably not wanting to be high in the air, when he clapped his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick — he hit the field on all fours — coughing — and something gold fell into his hand.

"He's got the Snitch!" I shouted, watching him wave it above his head.

↤|🌊|↦

After the very confusing game of Quidditch, we had all decided to retire to Hagrid's hut.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining to us after taking a sip of his tea, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, the only person who seemed to agree with me. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another before looking at Hagrid.

"I found out something about him," Harry told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

I roll my eyes at their accusations.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" Hagrid questions, nearly dropping his cup.

"Fluffy?", I repeat. How could he possible name that beast '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. I smack my hand on my forehead, at his comment that stopped Hagrid from telling us what was under the trapdoor.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

Harry frowns "But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," Hagrid repeats. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione asked knowingly.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape, leaving me to be the only one who still trusted him. "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 student! 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!" I exclaimed, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.