39: Slytherin VS Gryffindor

[3rd Pov]

"Was it opened before, this chamber?" Alaric asked offhandedly during one of his regular tea and transfiguration sessions with McGonagall.

Alaric had woken up early on Saturday morning. There were still a few hours left for the first Quidditch game of the season, so the boy decided to spend the time with his favorite professor.

The old Scottish woman's lips thinned as she placed her tea cup on the beautiful saucer that rested on top of the table.

"It did happen once, yes" she acquiesced. "Before I came to teach at Hogwarts. It was quite the scandal,"

Taking a sip of her tea, she stared at the mulling Alaric who did the same.

"However, this is probably a twisted, cruel prank," The old witch added.

"But the way Ms. Norris was petrified," Alaric said softly. "I've never seen anything so strong,"

"I would hope so," Professor McGonagall dryly chuckled. She took a bite of her scone. "Dark curses of such caliber are seldom seen," Minerva added. "Much less by a twelve-year-old boy such as yourself, Mr. Grindelwald,"

"Even so—"

"Don't think too much about it," McGonagall said tenderly. "You've done more than enough, Alaric. Not even Professor Dumbledore could recognize the source of the curse. You've already helped greatly by recognizing its effect,"

Sighing, Alaric took a sip from his cup.

"Are you prepared for the upcoming game?" Minerva asked after some time, her lips spread ever so slightly into the hint of a grin. "My lions won't go easy on your lot,"

Alaric smirked. "Now, now, professor, I can't go and tell you, can I?" He smiled. "That way, it can be a surprise for you too,"

Half an hour later, Alaric left McGonagall's office before going down to breakfast.

The Great Hall was almost full of excited students, with chatter echoing through the air.

He approached his table, where he found the rest of the Slytherin team huddled up, all looking uptight and not speaking much.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Daphne and Tracey came hurrying over to wish the three boys good luck as they entered the locker rooms.

"We have better brooms than them," Flint said as the team sat down to listen to his pep-talk. Alaric stood leaning against the wooden wall, his eyes closed, listening to the eager chants of the school.

"We've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers," he continued. "If we don't win this, I honestly think we should give up for the rest of the season,"

Flint then looked at Alaric. "Their game will be around Potter, the only one with a decent broom, so I expect you to catch the snitch before him,"

"So no pressure," said Zoe, winking at him.

The starting players quickly wore their gear, before walking out onto the pitch. As they slowly flew in their brooms, a roar of noise greeted their ears, mostly hisses, and boos. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin lose, and Gryffindor was playing against them.

Even so, the Slytherins in the crowd made their cheers heard too.

On the ground, by the sides of the pitch, Lysandra stood beside Madam Pomfrey, ready to fulfill her role as the match's doctor.

Madam Hooch raised her hand high into the air. The stadium slowly grew silent, watching as the woman approached the players with the Quaffle in her hands.

"On my whistle," she said. "Three... two... one..."

With a roar from the crowd, she threw the Quaffle up high in the air. The fourteen players shot from their position, each assuming their role.

While each opposing team tried to score the first goal of the match, Alaric flew higher than any of the players.

He saw the Slytherin players easily flying past the Gryffindor defenders, showing the cheer difference between the teams' brooms, while Harry Potter desperately flew away from a stray bludger.

'Elf magic?' he thought, observing the familiar wisps around the ball. Whichever wizard ordered their elf to tamper with the bludger lacked finesse.

Bludgers were supposed to unseat as many players as possible, not pursuing a single player the whole game.

"Someone's — fixed — this — Bludger —" Fred grunted, swinging his bat to the ball in Alaric's direction. But, instead of going for the silver-blonde boy, the ball changed direction in midair and continued to streak after Harry.

The rain was falling more heavily now. Alaric looped around the stadium, searching for the elusive golden ball. The crowd's cheers turned into laughter, probably because of the scenes Harry was doing, running away from the bludger.

Theodore and Blaise had, at some point, entered the game, switching with some other players who were underperforming.

Some of the more enthusiastic people in the crowd easily noticed the trio's different brooms, and how each one of them was made specially for their position.

For a moment, Alaric hung in midair, before, with a buzz, a streak of gold flew past his head.

Barely taking any time to think, before flying after the Snitch. Alaric had to cast a small charm on his eyes, to keep the rain from taking away his vision.

He zigzagged, looped, twirled, and spiraled in the air, his distance from the Snitch constantly decreasing.

Through a haze of rain, he dived after the snitch. A whistling in his ear told him that a Bludger had just missed him, making Alaric turn his head to look behind.

Trailing right behind him was Harry Potter, his glasses so wet one couldn't see his eyes. Still after him, the stray bludger whistled through the air.

The two seekers soared in the air, flying through the stadium stands. The people in the stands ducked, avoiding being hit by the brooms, while Alaric and Harry pursued the Snitch.

Blaise tried to knock the black-haired boy off his broom but ended up being blocked by George, who then engaged with him in a Beater Battle.

(A/N: This has to be a thing.)

With four players each focused on the other, the rest had a more open field to play in. As a consequence, Gryffindor had more opportunities to score, but Theodore stopped most of them, increasing the difference in score between the snakes and the lions.

Increasing the distance between them, Alaric's fingers brushed against the flying ball, almost grasping it.

There was a loud gasp from the crowd, seeing the Snitch flying straight to one of the stadium towers, the seekers not slowing down.

Right before it went through the tower, the Snitch shot up in a ninety-degree motion.

"Watch out!" Someone screamed.

Instead of crashing against the tower, Alaric shifted the position of his legs, pulling his broom up. In an instant, Alaric shot up after the snitch, the tail of his broom dragging against the tower's wall.

*CRASH*

With a loud crash, Alaric looked down and saw Harry ram into the wooden wall. The Bludger followed suit, and a deafening crack sounded right after.

Alaric ignored the worried screams from the stands and made a precise snatch for the Snitch, felling his finger close around the ball.

The crowd's attention instantly shifted to the flying second-year who had his hand raised high, the golden ball grasped on his hand.

"Grindelwald has caught the Snitch!" Lee Jordan announced, in a conflicted enthusiastic tone. "Slytherin Wins!"

__________

[Harry's Pov]

My right arm hung broken, while my good hand tried to steer the broom from crashing against the stadium tower.

Deeming it impossible, I closed my eyes and braced for the impact.

I'm sure I fainted for a second, seeing as the next moment I opened my eyes I was already laying deep within the tower's structure, the tampered Bludger flying straight to me.

My good harm was stuck under a wooden piece, so I had to raise my broken one. With another crack, the ball struck against it, breaking it further.

I only winced, the adrenaline of the game dulling the pain a bit. Even so, I couldn't hold my consciousness for long.

The next time I came around, I was laying on the grass pitch, rain falling on my face, with someone leaning over me. I saw a glitter of teeth.

"Oh, no, not you," I grunted, seeing Lockhart with his obnoxious grin. Whoever was doing pranks on him should do something about his damn teeth!

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the crowd standing around us. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm,"

I tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. My face grimaced seeing him raising his wand.

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times —"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" I said through clenched teeth.

Through the crowd, I spotted Fred and George wrestling the rouge Bludger into a box. I had an inkling of who had done something to it, and I and he were going to have a little talk...

Lockhart cleared his throat, before twirling his wand around muttering an incantation I was sure had nothing to do with healing broken bones. Luckily for me, in the next second, his wand was flying out of his wand.

"Are you trying to vanish his bone?"

I looked to my left side, spotting Lysandra who had a raised eyebrow. Beside her, Alaric had his wand raised, having disarmed Lockhart, the exact same expression on her face. They really were twins.

Eventually, I looked at the golden Snitch in Alaric's hand, still trying to fly away. We lost...

"Ah — y-yes — you see, it's ea-easier —" The man tried to stutter out a response, failing miserably.

"Professor Lockhart!" An upset voice interrupted him. "What are you trying to do to a student?!"

"A-Ah, M-Madam Pomfrey —"

With the look on her face, it wasn't hard to tell she was upset.

She turned to Lysandra, and her rage instantly disappeared, replaced by a kind smile. "Lysandra, dear," was all she said, giving her a small bottle with a green liquid in it.

While Madam Pomfrey berated Lockhart, Lysandra approached me. Not saying a word, the girl waved her wand, making my broken arm move on its own.

The liquid slowly floated out of the bottle, before enveloping my arm and being absorbed by my skin.

A strange and unpleasant sensation startled me, as the feeling spread to the spots my arm was broken. Two loud snaps echoed, and the pain slowly disappeared.

Lysandra swished her wand again, making a small cast appear out of nowhere around my arm.

"Thank you," I muttered, my arm somewhat uncomfortable by being suddenly put on a cast.

"Go to the hospital wing tomorrow," Lysandra said in a monotone voice. "You should be able to remove it by then,"

So she was still upset... My eyes went over to Alaric, who had a small smirk on his face as he watched Lockhart trying to make himself smaller while Madam Pomfrey reprimanded him.

As if noticing my gaze, Alaric looked at me. At first, his face remained with the same blank expression Lysandra had when she looked at me before.

However, he approached me, and after staring at me for a while, he extended his hand to me.

"Good game," he said, although I knew he was only being cordial, as their team had pretty much destroyed us.

I looked up at him, his face with a smile, different from the usual grin Draco always had, and then at his hand. It took me a while, but eventually, I took it and shook it.

Maybe... maybe my father was wrong. Maybe not all Slytherins were bad.

**********

A/N: Did you know Ron, at some point between the books, had a tattoo done on him of a Pigmy Puff? Now you know.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and don't forget the stones!