[ Location: Quidditch Pitch ]
[ Date: November 9th, 1991 - Saturday Morning ]
My wrist was killing me.
I had effectively pulled a 'Hermione' for the last week, burying myself under a mountain of dusty books in the library until the librarian started glaring at me. I wasn't just reading, though. I was grinding. Reading about spells is one thing; actually getting the wand movements right without blowing your own eyebrows off is a whole different nightmare.
'Seriously, why is the wrist flick for the Levitation Charm so specific? It's not science; it's interpretive dance with a stick.'
The stands were absolutely packed. The air was biting cold, the kind of November chill that sinks right through your clothes and settles in your bones. I sat sandwiched between Hermione, who was vibrating with anxiety, and Shikamaru, who looked like he was five seconds away from hibernating.
I subtly tapped my chest with my wand hidden inside my sleeve. "Calefacto," I whispered. A warm, gentle heat spread through my robes.
'Thank god for utility charms. If I had to freeze out here like a peasant, I'd probably just go back to the dorms, well my telekinesis can also make full body shield to stop that, but that will require Continues concentration '
'Continues grinding '
Ron was yelling insults at the Slytherin team through a pair of Omnioculars.
"Look at that formation!" Ron shouted. "Slytherin is playing dirty!"
"In other news, water is wet," I muttered, scanning the teachers' box through my own pair of binoculars (stolen from a Ravenclaw, returned later, probably).
I saw them.
Professor Snape: Looking miserable, staring at Harry.
Professor Quirrell: Sitting behind Snape, twitching, staring at Harry.
'There you are, you two-faced stuttering host. Enjoying the view, Voldy?'
The whistle blew. Fourteen brooms shot into the air.
Lee Jordan was commentating. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"
"JORDAN!" McGonagall yelled.
"Sorry, Professor!"
The game was fast. Brutal. Bludgers flew like cannonballs.
"This sport is dangerous," Shikamaru observed, opening one eye. "No safety rails. High velocity impacts. Do wizards hate children?"
"Pretty much," I agreed.
Suddenly, Harry's broom gave a violent lurch.
"Did you see that?" Ron asked, lowering his Omnioculars.
Harry's broom bucked again. It was rolling over and over. Harry was holding on by one hand.
"It's being jinxed," Hermione whispered, grabbing my binoculars. "I've read about this. You have to keep eye contact."
She scanned the crowd.
"It's Snape!" she hissed. "He's blinking!"
I looked. Snape was indeed muttering, eyes fixed on Harry. He was muttering the counter-curse.
But behind him... Quirrell was staring unblinkingly, his lips moving rapidly.
"I knew it," Ron said. "Hermione, we have to do something!"
"Leave it to me," Hermione stood up, her face determined. "I'll set him on fire."
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
"Bluebell flames," she whispered. "I practiced. Vivan, cover me."
She scrambled down the bleachers.
I watched her go. 'She's going to light Snape on fire. That's... actually hilarious. I shouldn't stop her. It's a canon event, yes that's why I am not stop her, Totally.'
But I still had to deal with the actual problem.
Harry was dangling by his fingertips. The broom was vibrating, trying to shake him off.
'Quirrell is strong. He has Voldemort on the back of his head boosting his stats. My Telekinesis can't overpower a dark lord's jinx directly without causing a scene.'
'But I don't need to overpower the jinx. I just need to break his concentration.'
I focused on Quirrell. I narrowed my eyes.
'Distance is 100 yards. Target is The back of the turban.'
My head throbbed. This was a precision shot at max range.
[ Ability Active: Telekinesis . ]
I gathered my mental energy into a dense, heavy palm. I imagined it hovering right behind Quirrell's head.
I waited.
Below the teachers' box, I saw a small blue flame ignite on Snape's cloak. Hermione had done it.
Snape jumped up, knocking into Quirrell.
'Now.'
'SLAP.'
I unleashed the mental hand with everything I had.
WHACK.
Quirrell's head snapped forward as if he'd been hit by a baseball bat. He face-planted into the railing, his turban nearly flying off.
"Ow!" I winced, rubbing my own forehead. "That felt solid."
[ System Notice: Critical Hit! ]
[ System Notice: Telekinesis Proficiency Increased (100%). ]
[ LEVEL UP! Telekinesis is now Level 5. ]
[ New Perk Unlocked: Multitasking (Control 3 independent objects simultaneously). ]
'Level 5. Finally.'
Up in the air, Harry's broom stopped bucking. He clambered back on.
He dove.
He sped toward the ground, hand outstretched. He tumbled onto the sand, looking like he was about to vomit.
He coughed. Something gold popped out of his mouth.
"He's got the Snitch!" Lee Jordan screamed. "Harry Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!"
"He didn't catch it," Shikamaru noted. "He nearly swallowed it. Is that a legal move?"
"A win is a win," I grinned, standing up as the Gryffindor stands erupted.
Hermione ran back up the stairs, breathless. "I did it! I set him on fire!"
"You sure did," I high-fived her. "You're a pyromaniac, Granger. I like it."
She blushed, beaming.
[ Location: Hagrid's Hut ][ Time: 4:00 PM ]
We sat in Hagrid's massive hut, drinking tea that tasted like boiled bark.
"It was Snape," Ron insisted. "Hermione saw him. He was cursing your broom."
"Rubbish," Hagrid said. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"
"Because he hates me," Harry said. "And he tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween."
Hagrid dropped the teapot. "How do you know about Fluffy?"
"Fluffy?" I asked. "That thing has a name? And it's Fluffy?"
"He's mine," Hagrid said defensively. "Bought him off a Greek chappie down at the pub. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the—"
He stopped.
"Guard the what?" Harry leaned in.
"Top secret, that is," Hagrid grumbled.
"The shiny rock?" Shikamaru asked from the corner, where he was petting Fang.
"Shiny rock?" Hagrid frowned.
"The one Nicholas Flamel made," I dropped the name casually, sipping my tea.
Hagrid looked like he'd been slapped. "How do you know about Nicholas Flamel?!"
I shrugged. "I read. A lot. Alchemy is fascinating."
Harry looked at me. "Nicholas Flamel?"
"You'll figure it out," I said. "But Hagrid... whatever that dog is guarding... Snape isn't the only one who wants it."
I looked out the window toward the castle.
'Quirrell knows. And now that I've slapped him... he might suspect someone else knows too, which is funny because he can't do a shit.'
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