A week passed since their last conversation, and Hermione had excitedly told Harry that her parents had already enrolled her in school. She would be taking her exams during the next holiday break but planned to study hard in the meantime. Classes continued as usual, and everything felt routine—until something unexpected came up.
Harry had been invited to try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. This left him filled with questions. His grandparents had always told him how much James Potter had loved Quidditch, but what about Regulus? Did he care about the sport? Should Harry honor both of his fathers by playing? He wasn't sure. Flying always brought him joy—it made him feel free, almost weightless.
His Flying Professor, Madam Hooch, and his Head of House, Professor Flitwick, both strongly encouraged him to give it a try. "You should at least come to the tryouts, Harry," Flitwick had said. "You have great talent—don't let it go to waste."
But Harry hesitated. Between his Muggle and magical studies, his workload was already overwhelming. He kept asking Theo for advice, but each time, he turned it down, leaving Theo both frustrated and amused.
One afternoon, Harry, Theo, and Neville were sitting quietly in a corridor, books spread out in front of them, when Draco and Ron approached, each with their own opinions, even though Harry hadn't asked.
Draco sneered first, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "You can try out all you want, Potter, but it won't matter. Slytherin is going to crush Ravenclaw as usual. Why waste your time?"
Harry sighed, already feeling the tension. "I haven't even decided yet, Draco."
"Of course you should join!" Ron jumped in, ignoring Draco completely. "If you do, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor will wipe the floor with Slytherin! We'd finally beat them. You could be the reason for that, Harry!"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Typical Weasley, always trying to gang up on Slytherin because you know you can't win on your own."
"Please," Ron shot back, his voice rising, "Gryffindor has plenty of talent. We don't need to 'gang up' on anyone. And if Harry joins Ravenclaw, then you better watch out. We'll have a strong team."
Harry rubbed his temples. "I never asked for either of your opinions."
Theo smirked quietly beside him, clearly enjoying the show.
Draco ignored Harry's comment, stepping closer with his usual arrogance. "Potter, let's face it—you don't need to waste your time playing some silly sport. It's not like you'll be better than me anyway."
Ron's face flushed red as he pointed at Draco. "Silly sport? You're just scared because you know Harry could be the best Seeker in the school—maybe better than you ever were!"
"Better than me?" Draco laughed mockingly. "Don't make me laugh, Weasley. Slytherin's got more experience, and Ravenclaw doesn't stand a chance, with or without Potter."
Theo finally cut in, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement. "I think Harry's capable of making his own decision without you two bickering like children."
Harry glanced at Theo, grateful for his interruption, but before he could speak, Ron added, "Just think about it, Harry. If you love flying as much as you say, why not give it a shot? You could help Ravenclaw beat Slytherin for once."
Draco scoffed, folding his arms. "He won't do it. He knows better than to embarrass himself on the field."
Harry felt his frustration grow. "I haven't decided because I already have a lot to focus on. It's not that simple."
"Right," Theo said with a knowing look. "You've got your Muggle studies and everything else. But if anyone can handle both, it's you, Harry."
Draco rolled his eyes, but Ron gave a supportive nod. "You're already doing something incredible with your studies. Just think about it, mate. Whatever you decide, you'll be brilliant."
Harry sighed, caught between their conflicting advice, but appreciating Ron's and Theo's support nonetheless.
Harry eventually decided that he should at least give it a try—maybe he would end up enjoying himself. The tryouts were scheduled for the end of September, and by then, the first month of the school year had already passed. The official matches wouldn't start until next month, so Harry took the very last day of tryouts to attend.
When the time came, it was a remarkable experience. Harry dazzled everyone with his speed and skill. He caught the Snitch—every time—with ease, and the others couldn't help but be impressed. His natural talent on a broom was undeniable.
Hermione, who had some free time, came to cheer him on. Surprisingly, Pansy Parkinson stood nearby, quiet and composed. Her sharp gaze surveyed everyone around as if they were mere insects, but she stayed close to Hermione, almost as if guarding her. It was an odd sight, but Harry didn't pay too much attention to it. He was just focused on flying and enjoying the rush of the air as he soared through the sky.
As the tryouts wrapped up, Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, called everyone over. "Alright, great work out there. The results will be posted tomorrow morning in the Great Hall. Best of luck to all of you," he said with a grin. "No matter what, you've all done well, and we'll see where things land." He gave them a small nod before heading off.
Harry, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, caught Hermione's eye and waved. "I'm heading to the locker room. Won't be long," he said.
Hermione waved back. "Take your time, I'll be right here."
Harry noticed Pansy standing beside her and raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He quickly made his way to the locker room. Once inside, he started changing back into his regular clothes, his mind buzzing with thoughts of the tryout.
As he stepped out of the locker room a few minutes later, he saw Hermione and Pansy waiting by the stands. "You didn't have to wait that long," Harry said, smiling at Hermione as he approached.
"Of course I did," Hermione replied with a grin. "How else would I be the first to tell you that you were incredible out there?"
Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks. It was fun... nerve-wracking, but fun."
Pansy, who had been silently watching, finally spoke up, her tone sharp but curious. "You didn't fly like a typical Ravenclaw, Potter. You flew like a Slytherin. Calculated. Fast. You better hope Ravenclaw doesn't regret adding you."
Harry raised an eyebrow at her comment. "I'm pretty sure I was just flying like myself, Pansy."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ignore her, Harry. You were great."
Harry smiled and shrugged. "Thanks, Hermione. Well, guess we'll find out tomorrow if I made the team."
Pansy gave a slight smirk but said nothing more as the three of them started walking back to the castle.
As they reached the castle entrance, Pansy gave them a curt nod. "I'll see you both around," she said, before turning on her heel and disappearing into the corridors.
Harry glanced at Hermione, frowning in confusion. "Okay, what's going on?" he asked immediately. "Since when are you and Pansy, of all people, hanging out? I've never seen you two together."
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "It's a bit strange, I know, but let me explain." She paused, clearly collecting her thoughts, before continuing, almost like she was reliving the moment as she spoke.
"It was earlier this week, actually. I was in the library," she began, her voice trailing off slightly as she recalled the memory. :
Hermione had been sitting in her usual spot, immersed in one of her many books, when Pansy Parkinson unexpectedly appeared, standing at the edge of her table.
"Granger," Pansy had said, her voice more neutral than the usual sneer that came with her words. "Can I sit?"
Hermione blinked in surprise, looking up from her book. "Er... sure?" she replied, her tone cautious but polite.
Pansy slid into the chair across from her, her expression unusually serious. "I've been thinking about what you and Potter said the other day... in the library, about how wizards and witches should learn from both the magical and Muggle worlds."
Hermione had blinked again, taken aback by Pansy's sudden interest. "You mean the part about how it would benefit everyone to have a school with knowledge from both worlds?" Hermione asked, skeptical. She glanced around, half expecting Draco or someone else to be nearby, pulling some kind of prank.
"Yeah, that," Pansy nodded, ignoring the suspicion in Hermione's tone. " And, well, I was more surprised that even Nott agreed with you."
That bit had caught Hermione off guard. "Theo?" she asked, surprised. "And ?"
Pansy had given a small smirk. "So that makes me read some Muggle books about law a, you know. To know the difference between that and magical world,Anyway," she continued, brushing it off, "I've been thinking... maybe there's something to this whole 'learn from both worlds' thing."
Hermione's shock had only grown as Pansy leaned forward slightly, her eyes scanning the table as if this conversation were some sort of secret negotiation.
"I want to learn more about the Muggle world," Pansy had said flatly. "And I figured... who better to ask than you? I mean, you're practically an expert in it."
Hermione had raised an eyebrow. "You're serious?" she had asked, not quite believing what she was hearing.
Pansy had nodded. "Dead serious. I'll even pay you if you want to tutor me."
At that, Hermione had crossed her arms, staring at Pansy like she'd lost her mind. "I don't need your money, Parkinson. I'm not some charity case."
Pansy had looked momentarily offended before softening her tone. "Fine. So what do you want in return? Name it."
After a moment of thought, Hermione had smiled. "Knowledge for knowledge. I'll teach you about the Muggle world, and in exchange, you teach me more about the magical world—things I wouldn't know from books. Deal?"
Pansy had leaned back in her chair, looking at Hermione as if appraising her. After a long pause, she had nodded. "Deal. And... for what it's worth, Granger, you'd have made a good Slytherin."
Hermione blinked back to the present, looking at Harry. "And that's how it started. We agreed to help each other learn. She's actually been surprisingly civil about it," she finished, shrugging slightly.
Harry stared at her, still processing what he'd just heard. "Pansy Parkinson... asked you for help with Muggle stuff?" he asked, incredulous. "And said you'd make a good Slytherin?"
Hermione laughed softly. "Yeah, I was shocked too. But who knows? Maybe she's more open-minded than I thought."
Harry scratched his head, still trying to wrap his mind around it. "Well, that's... something. I guess we'll see how this goes."
Hermione nodded. "It's strange, but if it helps bridge the gap between our worlds, then why not?"
The next day arrived quickly, and Harry was practically buzzing with excitement as he made his way to his Potions class. He had received the news that he had made the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and their first practice was that evening. It felt surreal to think about the intense training sessions he'd have: two to three hours every evening, four times a week. It was a big commitment, but the thrill of flying and being part of a team made it all worth it.
As he entered the classroom, he spotted Hermione and Theo sitting at their usual desks. Harry couldn't contain his enthusiasm. "Guess what? I made the Quidditch team!" he exclaimed, practically bouncing on his feet.
Hermione's face lit up with a bright smile. "That's amazing, Harry! I knew you would!"
Theo grinned, giving him a friendly nudge. "Well done! I always thought you had a natural talent for it."
Just as they were celebrating, the classroom door swung open, and Professor Snape glided in like a storm cloud. The air in the room grew heavy with his presence, and all chatter died down instantly.
"Silence!" Snape barked, glaring at the students. "Today, we will be brewing the Bouncing Bulb Potion. I expect your utmost attention, or you may find yourselves in detention instead of flying around on your little broomsticks!"
As he surveyed the class, his eyes landed on Harry, and a smirk appeared on his lips. "Ah, Potter. I see your ego has expanded along with your broomstick skills. Let's hope you can focus on your potion brewing as well as you can focus on chasing a Quaffle."
Harry felt a flush of annoyance creep up his cheeks, but he bit his tongue, refusing to let Snape get under his skin.
Hermione quickly shot Harry a reassuring look. "Don't let him get to you," she whispered. "You've got Quidditch practice later. Focus on that!"
Snape, ever perceptive, narrowed his eyes at the two of them. "Is there something amusing about the lesson, Miss Granger? Perhaps you'd like to enlighten the class on why Mr. Potter's ego needs feeding?"
"No, Professor," Hermione replied, keeping her voice steady. "We were just discussing the potion."
"Then perhaps you should all pay attention to the instructions," Snape snapped, turning away with a flick of his robes. "Gather your ingredients. We have work to do."
As the class settled into a tense silence, Harry's mind drifted to the upcoming practice. Despite Snape's dark cloud hanging over them, he felt a spark of anticipation. He would soon be soaring through the air with his teammates, and nothing, not even Snape, could take that away from him.
The day passed in a blur of classes, each one dragging on as Harry's excitement for Quidditch practice built. As the evening approached, he gathered his things and said goodbye to Hermione and Theo, promising to fill them in on all the details later.
Harry made his way to the pitch, feeling a mix of nerves and anticipation. When he arrived, he was greeted by the lively sounds of the Ravenclaw team warming up. He felt a thrill run through him; he was officially part of a team now.
The practice was exhilarating. The captain, Roger Davies, led them through various drills, and Harry quickly discovered that flying with a team was even more fun than he had imagined. He reveled in the feeling of the wind rushing past him as he darted through the air, focusing on the Quaffle and honing his skills.
One of the older team members, Cho Chang, caught his attention. She was friendly and encouraging, offering him helpful tips throughout the practice. "You have a real knack for dodging! Just keep your eyes on the Quaffle and don't be afraid to take risks," she said with a warm smile. Harry felt his confidence boost with her encouragement, and he found himself enjoying the camaraderie of the team.
After practice, Harry was buzzing with excitement as he walked back toward the castle. He had made some new friends and felt a sense of belonging that he hadn't quite experienced before. The thought of being part of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team filled him with joy, and he couldn't wait to share all the details with Hermione and Theo and Neville .
As Harry entered the library, he quickly scanned the room for Hermione and Theo. He spotted them at their usual table, animatedly discussing their day. As he approached, he noticed Neville sitting with them, flipping through a thick book.
In the library, the atmosphere was calm and studious, with the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional whisper among students. Harry, Hermione, Theo, and Neville gathered around their usual table, strewn with books and parchment.
"Hey, Harry!" Neville greeted as he looked up from a thick tome. "How was Quidditch practice? Did you fly as well as you hoped?"
Harry couldn't hide his excitement. "It was amazing! Cho is such a great teammate. I learned so much, and I think I really impressed some of the older players."
Hermione leaned closer, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Tell us everything! How did it go? Did you have fun?"
"Absolutely! I felt like I actually belonged. The energy from the team was incredible," Harry replied, his enthusiasm evident.
"Sounds like you're fitting in already," Theo added with a nod of approval.
"What kind of drills did you do?" Neville asked, genuinely interested. "I've always wondered how they train for Quidditch."
Harry began to explain the various drills and techniques, recounting how they practiced passing and teamwork. "It's so different from flying solo. It's all about communication. I felt really connected to everyone."
Hermione chimed in, connecting their conversation to what they had discussed in Muggle Studies. "It's like what we talked about—teamwork is crucial in both worlds," she noted.
"Exactly! It makes a huge difference," Harry agreed. "Plus, it was just so much fun!"
As they continued to discuss Harry's practice and their studies, the library felt like a haven for friendship and learning. Surrounded by the scent of old books and the promise of new adventures, Harry felt grateful for his friends and the exciting journey ahead in Quidditch.
The day of the Quidditch match against Slytherin had arrived, and excitement filled the air at Hogwarts. Harry, now a second-year student and playing for Ravenclaw, was both thrilled and nervous. This was his first official match as Seeker, and he wanted nothing more than to prove himself to his teammates and his house.
The stands were packed with students from all houses, and the atmosphere was electric. Harry's friends—Hermione, Neville, and Theo—were seated together, waving their Ravenclaw banners and cheering him on. The team gathered in the locker room, where Captain Roger Davies was giving a pep talk.
"Alright, team! Remember our strategies and play smart out there. Harry, just focus on the Snitch. You've got this!" Roger encouraged, clapping Harry on the shoulder.
Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. He mounted his broom and joined his teammates on the pitch, the blue and bronze robes flapping in the wind. The whistle blew, and the match began.
Slytherin quickly took control of the Quaffle, their Chasers passing it back and forth with practiced precision. Harry floated above the pitch, scanning for the Snitch while trying to ignore the chaotic action below. He could hear the crowd roaring as the Slytherins scored the first goal.
As the game progressed, the tension rose. Harry spotted the Snitch darting between players, and he took off after it. He maneuvered expertly, dodging a bludger that zoomed past him.
"Watch out, Harry!" Theo shouted from the stands, his voice barely audible over the crowd.
Just then, Harry caught a glimpse of the Snitch again, glimmering in the sunlight. He pushed himself forward, the wind rushing past him. But just as he reached for it, a bludger—a rogue one—came barreling toward him, seemingly aimed directly at him.
"Harry, look out!" Roger yelled, but it was too late. The bludger slammed into Harry's side, sending him spiraling off course.
The Bludger pursued him relentlessly, and as he tried to regain control, his broom bucked violently again, making Harry lose his grip momentarily. Panic surged through him. "What's happening? Why can't I control it?" he thought, fear gripping his chest.
As the Bludger drew nearer, Harry instinctively ducked, but the broom continued to tremble. The crowd gasped, and Harry felt himself losing balance. Suddenly, with a forceful jolt, his broom tilted sharply, sending him crashing toward the ground. He hit the pitch hard, and pain shot through his arm as he landed awkwardly.
"Harry!" Hermione shouted from the stands, her voice piercing through the chaos. Harry struggled to regain his bearings, but the pain radiating from his arm was intense.
The crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and gasps. The Slytherins were reveling in the chaos, their laughter ringing out across the pitch. Harry, still dazed, glanced up to see Roger swooping down to check on him.
"Are you alright?" Roger asked, concern etched on his face.
"I think my arm's broken," Harry said, cradling it against his chest. The Bludger had struck him with incredible force, and he could feel the sharp pain radiating from his injured limb.
Just as he was beginning to comprehend the seriousness of his situation, Gilderoy Lockhart, the flamboyant Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, rushed onto the field. "Don't worry, everyone! I'm here to save the day!" he proclaimed, kneeling beside Harry with a grand flourish.
Harry groaned inwardly. "Just don't make it worse," he muttered, but Lockhart was already brandishing his wand.
In a flash, Lockhart began his incantation, and Harry could only watch in horror as the professor's spell went awry. Instead of healing Harry's arm, Lockhart inadvertently vanished the bones, leaving Harry with a limp, useless appendage.
"Oops!" Lockhart said, looking sheepish as Harry gasped in pain. "Well, I'll just… um, let me try again."
Madam Pomfrey soon arrived, ushering Lockhart out of the way and quickly assessing Harry's condition. "What did you do?" she asked, her voice a mix of annoyance and concern.
Lockhart stammered, "I was just trying to help! Really, I was!"
Harry was whisked away to the hospital wing, the pain in his arm intensifying. As he lay in the infirmary, the world outside faded into a blur of voices and sounds. He could hear the distant echo of the match still going on, the crowd's cheers punctuating the tension.
That evening, while lying in bed, he heard a soft rustle, and the door creaked open. Dobby appeared at the foot of his bed, looking anxious. "Harry Potter," he said in a whisper, his large eyes wide with concern. "Dobby is very sorry for what happened!"
"Dobby?" Harry asked, still groggy from the pain. "What are you doing here?"
"I—I tried to protect you, Harry Potter," Dobby said, wringing his hands. "But I did a bad thing. Dobby ensorcelled the Bludger to chase you. Dobby didn't want you to come back to Hogwarts! He thought it would keep you safe."
Harry stared at Dobby, confusion mixing with disbelief. "You did what? Why would you do that?"
"Because… Harry Potter is too important!" Dobby insisted, his voice trembling. "Dobby thought if you were hurt, you wouldn't stay here, and then you would be safe!"
"Safe?" Harry echoed, his mind racing. "Dobby, I love it here! Why would you think hurting me would help?"
Dobby looked down, ashamed. "Dobby didn't understand! Dobby only wanted to help! But Dobby knows now that he was wrong."
As Harry lay there, processing Dobby's words, he felt a mixture of anger and sympathy. "You could have really hurt me! Or worse!"
"I am sorry, Harry Potter!" Dobby wailed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Dobby will never do it again!"
Harry sighed, the pain in his arm becoming a dull throb. "I just… I don't understand why you would want to keep me away."
"Because… Dobby cares for Harry Potter. Dobby wants him safe," the little elf said, his voice filled with sincerity.
As Dobby continued to insist that he only wanted to protect Harry, Harry realized it was time to change his approach. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the pain shooting from his arm.
"Dobby," Harry said, his voice steady but firm. "If you really want to protect me, you need to stay away from me and everything that could hurt me. You have to promise me that."
Dobby's large eyes widened in confusion. "But, Harry Potter, Dobby wants to help you! Dobby wants to keep you safe!"
"I know you mean well," Harry replied, trying to make Dobby understand. "But the way you're going about it is all wrong. If you really want to help, you need to tell me what you're trying to protect me from, and I'll do my best to avoid it."
Dobby's expression shifted from concern to despair. "Dobby is a bad elf! Dobby only brings trouble to Harry Potter! Dobby is the worst!"
Suddenly, in a fit of frustration, Dobby began to hit his own head with his tiny fists. "Dobby is bad! Dobby is terrible! Dobby only causes pain!"
"Dobby, stop!" Harry exclaimed, feeling a pang of sympathy at the sight. "You're not bad! You just want to help. Hurting yourself won't make anything better."
But Dobby was beyond listening. His small hands continued to strike his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Dobby is worthless! Dobby doesn't deserve to be free! Dobby will never be good enough for Harry Potter!"
Harry's heart ached for the little elf, seeing him so distressed. "Please, Dobby, don't do this! Just promise me you won't hurt yourself or try to protect me like this again."
Before Harry could say more, Dobby let out a loud gasp and, with a snap of his fingers, disappeared with a crack, leaving an eerie silence in the infirmary.
Harry was left alone, still processing what had just happened. He couldn't shake the image of Dobby's sorrowful face and his desperate need for validation. The elf had a good heart, but his misguided attempts to protect Harry were causing more harm than good.
As Harry lay in the hospital bed, he couldn't shake off the lingering questions that swirled in his mind. He wondered if Dobby had been serious about the threat he had been trying to protect him from. What exactly was this danger that seemed to follow him? Was it related to the strange occurrences at Hogwarts or something even more sinister?
His thoughts raced, but fatigue from the day's events began to settle in. The pain in his arm throbbed softly, and the exhaustion from the Quidditch match and the conversation with Dobby weighed heavily on him. Despite the uncertainty that loomed, Harry's eyelids grew heavy, and he felt himself drifting off.
As sleep took hold, his mind began to wander into a realm of dreams, where his worries faded into the background. He hoped that when he woke up, he would have a clearer understanding of Dobby's motives and the mysterious threat hanging over him. For now, he would rest, hoping that the morning would bring with it some answers and perhaps a way to help Dobby find peace in his own mind.