Harry returned to the common room, to see Hermione was helping Ron and Neville with their homework. In a low whisper, Harry told them what he had seen.

“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 create a diversion”’

Hermione’s eyes were wide. “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.”

“Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something,” snapped Ron.

“I’m with Harry.” Neville declared, “I know that you would think I dont like Snape, which is true. But the thing is, Snape did move in a different direction than every Professor during Halloween. We three had seen with our own eyes.”

She didnt have anything to refute, then Ron asked, “Now the main question is, what is Snape after? What is that dog guarding?”

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question. In the bed, he got another theory that made his skin cold. It was Neville's paranoia speaking, but he wondered whether Snape would try to kill him tomorrow because he had seen his bleeding leg. The possibility of Snape trying to kill him blew off his sleep. He tried to empty his mind, he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours, but the expression on Snape’s face when Harry saw his leg wasn’t easy to forget…

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

“You’ve got to eat some breakfast”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Just a bit of toast,” wheedled Hermione.

“I’m not hungry.” Harry felt terrible. In an hour’s time he’d be walking on to the pitch.

“Harry, you need your strength,” said Seamus Finnigan. “Seekers are always the ones who get nobbled by the other team.”

“Thanks, Seamus,” said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

By eleven o’clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus and Dean up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

Meanwhile, in the changing rooms, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes. Wood cleared his throat for silence.

“OK, men,” he said.

“And women,” said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

“And women,” Wood agreed. “This is it.”

“The big one,” said Fred Weasley.

“The one we’ve all been waiting for,” said George.

“We know Oliver’s speech by heart,” Fred told Harry. “We were in the team last year.”

“Shut up, you two,’ said Wood. “This is the best team Gryffindor’s had in years. We’re going to win. I know it. Right. It’s time. Good luck, all of you.”

Harry followed Fred and George out of the changing room and, hoping his knees weren’t going to give way, walked onto the pitch to loud cheers. It is then he saw that Slytherins had prepared a banner as well, Slytherins will always be at Top, with a silvery snake with green eyes moving and hissing at them. It looked very well made when compared to the one that Gryffindors made.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the pitch, waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand. “Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,” she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

He saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver. “Mount your brooms, please.” Harry clambered onto his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too…”

“JORDAN!” The Weasley twins’ friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

“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, Slytherin 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 Gryffindor 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 Slytherin – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – 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 goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”

Gryffindor's cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

“Slytherin in possession,” Lee Jordan was saying. “Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?”

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear. Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement, he dived downwards after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too.

Neck and neck they hurtled towards the Snitch – all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in mid-air to watch. Harry was faster than Higgs, he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead, he put on an extra spurt of speed.

WHAM!

A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below, Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose and Harry’s broom span off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

“Foul!” screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, “Send him off, ref! Red card!”

“This isn’t football, Dean,” Ron reminded him. “You can’t send people off in Quidditch.. and what’s a red card?”

Hagrid who had joined them shortly after the match started spoke, “They oughta change the rules, Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air.”

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides. “So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating…”

“Jordan”’ growled Professor McGonagall

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul..”’

“Jordan, I’m warning you.”

“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.”

It was then Harry saw something golden, below Slytherin’s goalpost. Before anyone could know it, he was speeding towards the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick, he hit the pitch on all fours, coughed, and something gold fell into his hand.

“I’ve got the Snitch!” he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion. Harry looked around, most of the Slytherins were booing him, and Flint was arguing with Professor Hooch, “He didn’t catch it, he nearly swallowed it,” but it made no difference, he hadn’t broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the result, “Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.”

After the match, Hagrid invited all four of them to his hut for tea. While they were having tea in their cabin, all were talking about how great the match was. When Neville muttered, “I wish I could have seen it,”

Hearing it Ron asked, “What do you mean mate, you were there.”

A shade of red appeared on Neville’s ear, “I was just too nervous to see Harry play. So I was just keeping an eye out for Professor Snape.”

Hearing his words Hagrid asked, “Why? What do you reckon old Snape would have done?”

Everyone stayed silent, they didnt know whether they could say anything to Hagrid or not. But Harry trusted Hagrid, “‘I found out something about him, and Neville thought Snape might try to kill me,”

“What did you find out?” Hagrid asked.

“He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Hallowe’en. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.”

Hagrid dropped the teapot. “How do you know about Fluffy?’ he said

“Fluffy?” they all said in unison.

“Yeah.. he’s mine.. bought him off a Greek chap I met in the pub last year.. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the..’

“Yes?” said Harry eagerly

“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.”

“But Snape’s trying to steal it,” he argued

“Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.”

“So why did tried to go past.. Fluffy” cried Hermione.

“Now, listen to me, all four of you… you are meddling in things that don’t concern you. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, and you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel..”

“Aha!” said Harry. “So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Hagrid looked furious with himself.