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Hogwarts: the magic of music

Eddie Carter is a young boy living in Cokeworths, England. He knew he had been reincarnated from another time. He retained knowledge from that time but not memories. He Didn't Know, however, that he was also in another world filled with wizards and magic until Owl tapped on his window and gave him a letter. Eddie is conflicted because he knows the world's plot but is unsure what to do with the knowledge. But he will strive to make the best of his situation and let the music of his magic guide him and maybe have some fun along the way.

Monty_Linden · Book&Literature
Not enough ratings
96 Chs

Bloody Bludger

Saturday, I wanted to go back to the chamber of echoes; however, my anticipation was quickly dampened by the insistent voices of my dorm mates.

"We're heading to the pitch, Eddie. First game of the season! You can't miss it," Grant exclaimed, his eyes shining with excitement.

Tim nodded in agreement, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Come on, it'll be epic. Plus, we've got to support our team, and I want to watch Harry beat Draco." 

Their enthusiasm was infectious, yet it clashed with the silent call of the chamber that echoed in my heart. I found myself voicing my protests all through breakfast, my spoon stirring listlessly through my porridge and continuing my grumbles as we made our way down to the pitch. The thrum of excitement from the students around us did little to lift my spirits.

It wasn't until we reached the stands, surrounded by a sea of cheering Gryffindors that my resistance began to wane. Hermione, spotting me amongst the crowd, scooted over with a curious look on her face.

"Eddie, you seem... less than thrilled to be here," she observed, her voice barely audible over the din.

I sighed, my gaze drifting towards the pitch where the teams were beginning their warm-ups. "I just found a whole litany of new spells, and I have to come here", I sighed, not happy.

Hermione's expression softened in understanding, but before she could reply, Tim's voice cut through our conversation. "Oh, shut it, Eddie. We're here to cheer on our mates and watch Malfoy. Hopefully, he'll get a taste of his own medicine."

Despite myself, a smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth at the thought of Malfoy's impending misfortune. I knew the course the game would take—thanks to Dobby's misguided attempt to protect Harry, the bludger would relentlessly pursue him, culminating in a broken arm and a disastrous attempt at healing by Lockhart. Yet, the prospect of seeing Malfoy's overconfidence crumble was a silver lining I couldn't resist.

As the game kicked off and the crowd's chants filled the air, "Gryffindor, go go! Gryffindor, go-" I found myself caught up in the excitement. The Quidditch pitch was a spectacle of movement and colour, the players a blur of crimson and green against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. The cheers of the crowd, the rush of the wind, and the fierce competition unfolding before us all served to momentarily push the thoughts of magical melodies to the back of my mind.

The Gryffindors are getting their butts kicked because of the Slytherin team's better brooms. Not only did they have the better brooms, but the Slytherin team had the reputation of playing dirty, and they still lived up to that. Harry, for his part, was a fine good Quidditch player dancing and dodging the bloody bludger, the bludger missing him by a hairs breath. Until Harry stalled because he had spotted the snitch. He was a second too slow and*Wham!* the bludger crashed into his elbow. 

Harry sped towards Draco at full speed, and Draco panicked and swerved the saw Harry chasing the bludger. He brought his broom around to chase Harry, but they were low to the ground, and at that speed, a slight mistake can send you tumbling. That was what happened to Draco. He pitched forward too much, his broom caught the ground, and he somersaulted over and bounced the ground a few times.

Harry, for his part, dived off his broom to catch the snitch after the game was called; Hermione and Ron took off to the pitch, and so did some of the teachers. 

--

My Friends and I didn't run down to the pitch. We just met Harry at the hospital wing afterwards. It was super weird looking at a boneless arm. Hermione and Ron were arguing over Lockhart's complaint, so I took a seat next to Harry's bed. 

"you alright, mate?" I asked him concerned. 

"yeah, it doesn't hurt, but it's really, really weird", Harry said, looking at the boneless arm.

"out of my way," Madame Pomfrey said as she pushed through the crowd "he would have been straight to me. I can mend bones in a heartbeat. But growing them back."

"you will be able to?" asked Hermione.

"yes, but it will be painful" Madame Pomfrey produced a bottle of Skele-gro.

"Well, fancy that?" I said, looking at the bottle, "That is ironic".

"hmm?" madame Pomfrey questioned me.

"you do know the origin of Skele-gro?" I asked, looking at the bottle in her hand.

She looked at the bottle and then at Harry. "Oh yes", she giggled. "That is ironic."

"Sorry?" Harry asked, not getting the joke.

"this potion", Madame Pomfrey lifted the bottle ", was based on a potion by Linfred of Stinchcombe." Harry stared at her like he didn't know who she was talking about.

"The Potterer, he was also called." I said in a happy tune ", he was the founder of the Potter family." Harry, for his part, was stunned.

"Now you will be staying the night, Mister Potter, and it will be a rough one for you", Madame Pomfrey said. 

"how do you know this?" Hermione asked me after Harry choked down the skele-gro.

"Hmm, oh, just factoids I learned while digging into wizard history." I said, "Like Ron's ancestor, Matilda Weasley was the professor of transfiguration and deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. Actually, I'm pretty sure she taught Dumbledore."

Ron looked at me. "That's a bit odd", he said to me.

"Why? The ancient families have long histories. I was digging into mine and found more on others", I said with a shrug. "The carters have never been that spectacular, but they left Britain in the 16th century, and surprisingly, the British wizarding world doesn't really care about the American one." 

"wait, you are a pure blood?" Ron asked with a look.

"yeah, found out last year. I thought I told you guys?" I said I genuinely thought I told them.

"I don't remember," said Harry, gritting his teeth. Ron shook his head, and Hermione shrugged. 

"oh, Harry, the pain kicking in?" he nodded. "Let me help" I pulled Starlight out of my satchel.

"what's that?" Ron asked.

"starlight," I said as I plugged my wand into it. "My new guitar" I set to tuning the guitar, the colours of the strings changing until they were golden.

"wow", Hermione said, "what is that?" She was looking at the strange guitar.

"think of it like a wand" I smiled. "I'm going to play a spell for you, Harry."

I started playing the melody for Cantus Vivific, and Harry's face changed from pain to relief, and he slowly drifted off to sleep.

"my work is done" i packed up the guitar and headed to bed.