The Snitch and a Poorly Thrown Sword
Today was the Quidditch match, and Percy and Harry had gone their separate ways so Harry could get ready for his debut. Meanwhile, Percy followed Hermione, Ron, and Neville toward the stands. Apparently, only now was he truly noticing the Quidditch pitch; normally he never came near this place. After all, his favorite area was usually around the Black Lake. But since it was almost frozen now, enjoying it would be much harder.
Percy studied the field carefully. It was a huge pitch with those hoops that looked like the ones kids used to blow bubbles… and then he realized a terrifying detail he had never considered before: they had to fly at least fifteen meters above the ground while playing.
Percy swallowed hard and quickly turned to Ron and Hermione.
"This is safe, right? Tell me there's a net. Tell me there are water mattresses at least," he said, clearly worried about his brother's safety.
"It's Quidditch; there's none of that," Ron replied, confused by Percy's constant doubts. Sometimes Percy didn't seem to care about his own safety; but when it came to Harry, he worried far too much. He saw him as his younger brother, even though he wasn't, and Harry had repeated that to him many times already.
Although, to be fair, chaotic and clumsy Percy was also seen by Harry as a younger brother he had to watch over all the time. Something that had earned plenty of teasing from Aunt Mor because of his awkward big-brother behavior.
"Perfect. Great. Amazing. A sport without common sense," Percy muttered sarcastically, remembering all the nonsense they had encountered since arriving at Hogwarts.
Even Harry, for some reason, wrote down those observations in a small secret notebook. He also wrote down possible jobs wizards could have after finishing school, which caught Percy's attention. Why did his brother do that?
But he quickly refocused on the pitch, his worry for Harry's debut returning with even more strength.
People in the stands already had their signs. Hermione even made one using a blanket that Ron's rat had ruined; with a couple of spells it turned into a huge glittery banner supporting Gryffindor and Harry.
"So the one who catches the little golden ball wins everything?", Percy asked Ron again, who no longer remembered how many times he had answered the same question.
"Exactly," Ron said, exhausted.
"And what are the other six players for? To look pretty in photos?", Percy asked again.
Ron looked at Hermione with an expression that clearly begged for help.
"Percy, it's part of magical customs; you just have to see it that way," Hermione explained patiently.
"Yes. One way to accept so many absurd things is simply to say it's thanks to magic," Percy commented with a slight tease.
In reality, Percy's nerves over his brother were starting to make everyone else nervous too.
At that moment, fortunately for everyone listening to him chatter nonstop, the players entered the pitch, and the shouts of the students in the stands deafened the entire stadium.
Madam Hooch, acting as referee, was already standing in the center of the field waiting for the teams with her broom in hand. She seemed to say something to them. Everyone nodded. Gryffindor and Slytherin stared each other down before mounting their brooms.
For a moment it looked like Harry glanced at the bright banner his friends had made, and he smiled slightly.
Then the silver whistle of Madam Hooch sounded. Ten brooms rose into the air. Very high. Far too high for Percy's liking; he clutched his necklace with the two small swords tightly.
"Harry, if you get hurt I'll tell Mom," Percy murmured, letting out a sigh to calm himself down as he tried to convince his heart that he was overreacting.
The quaffle was released, and the commentator, Lee Jordan, friend of the Weasley twins, began narrating.
"The quaffle is caught by Angelina Johnson from Gryffindor. What an excellent chaser this young woman is, and very pretty too," Jordan said before a shout from Professor McGonagall was heard. "Sorry, professor," he added quickly.
"Angelina passes it to Alicia Spinnet, another great Gryffindor player. Oh, no! Marcus Flint steals the quaffle!" Jordan shouted excitedly, narrating every event.
"And almost… but also very far at the same time, isn't it?", he said when Flint, the Slytherin team captain who looked quite a lot like the troll Percy and Harry had defeated earlier —especially in the face— tried to score. "A great save from Oliver Wood!", Jordan cheered.
Everyone watched with excitement as Katie Bell took the quaffle, but at that moment a bludger struck the back of her head, almost knocking her off.
By now, Percy was staring at the bludger, and his nerves increased even more.
"Maybe I should've joined the Quidditch team to protect Harry," he said seriously.
"Do you fly as well as your brother?", Ron asked.
"No. But I'm good at hitting and cutting things," Percy answered immediately.
"I don't think that's enough," Neville said quietly.
Then everyone watched as Angelina Johnson regained the quaffle and flew, dodging bludgers, players, and anything in her path with skill, speed, and control, before scoring a goal.
The Gryffindors jumped up in joy, and some hugged.
Percy also lost some of his nerves after seeing the first goal and realizing how exciting this game was, while the Slytherins whistled and complained, disappointed by the first score against them.
"Hey, guys," Hagrid greeted as he joined them, while Hermione and the others made space for him. "I was watching the match from my cabin, but I felt it was better to join the noisy place," the giant added with a smile.
"And still nothing about the snitch?", Hagrid asked quickly, adjusting the binoculars hanging from his neck.
"No," Ron replied, shaking his head.
"Mm… what are you talking about? The snitch is right there," Percy said, pointing toward a part of the sky.
Everyone turned in the direction Percy was pointing, but none of them could see anything.
"Oh, what's this! It looks like Potter has spotted the golden snitch," Jordan suddenly announced, just as Harry dove straight down on his broom, heading exactly toward the same point Percy had indicated. Apparently, Harry had seen it at the exact same moment he did.
A bludger flew dangerously close to Harry's head, but he leaned down just enough to dodge it.
The Slytherin seeker didn't seem to have noticed anything; however, when he saw Harry throwing himself at full speed toward a specific point, he immediately decided to follow him. Looking toward the direction Harry was flying, he finally caught sight of the small golden flash of the snitch.
Meanwhile, all the players on the field seemed to freeze for a second, watching the two seekers.
Harry's speed was astonishing as he followed the golden point with absolute focus. The silence that fell over the stands was so intense it felt as if the entire stadium were attending a funeral.
But before Harry could get closer, something dark moved directly in front of him. With quick reflexes, Harry twisted his broom to avoid slamming headfirst into Marcus Flint, who had boldly blocked his way.
Still, with the speed he was going, even braking, Harry crashed into Flint's side.
Flint, who had worn a cruel smile at first, suddenly felt as if a cannonball had hit him. The stands erupted in a mixture of laughter and gasps.
And well… it was true that Harry didn't have the same level of physical training Percy did, but he was still quite trained, far more than any average Hogwarts student. His body was smaller than average, yes, but also clearly stronger. For Harry, the impact was a sharp pain, but manageable. For Flint, it literally sent him flying off his broom; he would probably end up with a useless arm for at least a week.
Harry rubbed his arm lightly while staying afloat, gripping his broom. He watched Flint fall… until Snape saved him at the last second, pointing his wand just before Flint hit the ground.
"Was that… a foul?" Lee Jordan asked, more wondering than stating. Although Flint had illegally put himself in Harry's path, he was the one who got launched by the collision.
The sound of Professor Hooch's whistle seemed to confirm it: free shot for Gryffindor.
Meanwhile, Percy was trying not to laugh as he saw Flint, clutching his aching arm, run to retrieve his broom. He returned to the game with a completely dark expression.
"Who is stupid enough to use their body to stop something coming at that speed?", Hermione commented. Although surprised, it made sense: Harry was flying at high speed, and Flint had simply placed himself in front of him like a pole. What did he expect? Of course, that could also have hurt Harry, but seeing him rub his arm and stay fine, she let out a sigh of relief.
Hagrid also placed a hand over his chest, thinking Harry might have fallen. Then he took a deep breath.
"It's good he's alright. Very good. Seems Harry is tougher than he looks," the giant said with more calm.
"Of course. The beatings one of our teachers gives us don't even compare," Percy said with a smile, now more relaxed because his brother was safe. Even so, the height still worried him. But after seeing Snape react so quickly, he was sure Professor McGonagall could do the same, and even better. That calmed him a little more regarding the flight.
"One of your teachers?", Hermione asked, interested. She knew that one of their teachers had taught them that strange magic Harry called "controlling the mist to do magic." And although she kept pestering him to teach her something, Harry wasn't a good teacher… at all.
And Percy… well, if he could barely control it himself, imagine receiving lessons from him.
"A long story," Percy said while watching the match attentively, especially when he saw Harry seemed to have lost sight of the snitch and was scanning the field. But it only took an instant for him to seem to spot it again, judging by the sudden motion of his head. He was looking exactly where Percy was looking.
But when he was about to fly in that direction, his broom didn't respond. It began to tremble slightly, making Harry frown in confusion. Percy noticed it too. Both knew they had likely seen the snitch at the same time.
"Something's happening," Percy said immediately.
"What?", Hagrid and the others asked, since they didn't see anything strange.
Until Harry's broom suddenly began shaking violently from side to side, as if it were an enraged bull trying to throw him off. Harry held on tightly, his knuckles tense, fighting to stay mounted.
"I said it, something is wrong!", Percy shouted, desperate. He couldn't reach Harry, which only made him panic more. Just moments ago he had calmed himself thinking McGonagall could catch him the way Snape had… but seeing him like this was something else. He didn't want to see his brother fall from the sky.
"We need to do something," Percy shouted, looking at any moment as if he might jump off the stands, regardless of the height, if it meant catching Harry himself if he fell.
"Oh, it seems something is happening to Harry Potter!", Jordan said upon noticing how the broom shook in a strange way before beginning to spin while Harry clung to it with all his strength to avoid falling. "Did something happen when he crashed into Flint? Maybe the broom was damaged?", he wondered aloud again.
Upon hearing that, Hagrid responded from behind Percy, who was already climbing up the stands, practically on the verge of jumping onto the field, while Neville, Ron, and Seamus Finnigan clung to him trying to stop him. Even together they couldn't hold him back; Percy's strength was far greater than the three of them combined.
"Only dark magic could do that to a broom; a simple crash wouldn't damage it like that," Hagrid added as he joined in holding Percy.
But those words froze both Percy and Hermione, who quickly grabbed the binoculars hanging from Hagrid's chest and looked toward the teachers' stand.
"I knew it," Hermione huffed suspiciously as Percy followed her gaze toward the platform. "Snape is doing something!", she shouted.
Percy's eyes filled with genuine fury for a moment. He freed himself from Neville, Ron, Seamus and even Hagrid. The giant was briefly surprised; although Percy wasn't using his full strength, he was still incredibly strong.
From his place in the stands, Percy had a direct view of the teachers' platform. Even from afar, he could make out Snape at the center, dressed in his black cloak, focusing intensely on a single point… clearly on Harry.
Percy brought his hand to his necklace, the one with the miniature sword. Instead of tapping it twice as usual, he traced a small circle with his finger before touching it.
The sword that appeared was not the golden one covered in runes.
It was a wooden sword.
Yes. The wooden sword that could deflect spells, the one he had earned after thanking the goddess of magic, Hecate, during one of his crazy missions with Mor. And without thinking twice, using all his strength, even from a stand so far away from the other, Percy threw it directly at Snape.
Percy clenched his teeth as he watched it fly; he had no plan, he only had his aim… more or less.
Everyone around saw a flying sword pass in front of them and remained with confused expressions as they followed its fast trajectory… straight toward the teachers' platform.
The professors also reacted when they saw something coming through the air and turned to look.
Snape, who was murmuring something without taking his eyes off Harry's broom, had to turn his head when he noticed the movement. His eyes widened when he saw a wooden sword flying straight toward his face. He had no choice but to duck quickly.
By doing so, the sword didn't hit him…
It hit Professor Quirrell, who had been standing right behind him.
The weapon struck him square in the chest. Quirrell let out a strange cry, full of pain, before collapsing backward.
Immediately everyone in the platform turned to search for the attacker, but they couldn't see who had thrown it. Even Percy was looking behind himself, just like everyone else, as if he were trying to find the culprit.
Meanwhile, he muttered quietly:
"Oops."
He had realized that he hadn't hit Snape… but the "innocent" Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. But looking on the bright side, Harry had regained control of his broom.
From afar, Harry was sweating and signaling frantically at his friends, especially Percy, telling them to shut up and not say anything about the sword.
Although from where he was, Percy could clearly feel Snape's stare drilling into him.
Harry, not fully aware of what had happened up in the stands, regained control of his broom and once again spotted the bright golden snitch. Quickly he flew at full speed, dodging a bludger, the quaffle, and even a clumsy attempt by Flint to get in his way again; but this time Flint stopped immediately, not wanting to be launched into the air like before.
Harry extended his hand in one swift motion and caught the golden snitch before descending to the ground with it raised above his head.
At first, it seemed like no one celebrated, as if it took them a moment to process what had just happened. But as soon as everyone turned and saw Harry with the snitch in his hand… they erupted in excitement.
Harry stood there for a moment, confused, not knowing exactly what had happened, but happy to have won.
Percy, seeing his idiotic brother so happy, only sighed and said, "If this was Quidditch, I'd definitely need nerves of steel… or magical life insurance. Let's hope not all games are like this."