kbinnz - Harry's New Home

The game progressed, and even Hermione began to get excited as the score was quite close. Harry in particular was leaning as far out on the railings as he could, trying to spot the snitch and signal his teammates.

Then, in the midst of a particularly tense part of the game, Harry felt a sharp push. He grabbed at the railing on which they sat and opened his mouth to remonstrate with Hermione, but was startled to see that she was sitting well out of arms' reach, her attention wholly focused on the game.

"Hermione?" he began uncertainly but before he could speak further, Harry was abruptly unseated by an enormous yank, almost as if the earth itself had reached up and pulled him forward.

With a startled cry, he plummeted towards the ground far below.

"Wingardium leviosa!" Harry dimly heard Hermione scream behind him, and then his forward momentum slowed. For a heart-stopping moment, he hovered, then miraculously he started to rise back towards the railing.

He had recovered only a few feet, however, when that same force seized hold of him again and snapped the pull of Hermione's spell. He cried out anew as he dropped precipitously, only to be jolted to a halt once again. He managed to twist around and saw Hermione's drawn, white face as she stared at him, wand extended and every ounce of will focused on her spell.

He jerked up a few feet, then down a few. He felt like two invisible giants were having a tug of war with him, as if he were some rag doll being dragged between them. If it hadn't been for the look of sheer terror on Hermione's face, he might have thought this some prank of the twins тАУ after all, how was he to know whether such midair to-and-fro'ing was normal in the Wizarding World?

Incredibly enough, below him the Quidditch match continued. The rest of the school hadn't even noticed the drama unfolding high in the stands, captivated as they were by the hard-fought match playing out before them.

Harry could feel the effort that his friend was putting into her magic тАУ his body would start to rise, as if gravity had suddenly ceased to affect him, but after a few seconds, something would block Hermione's spell, gravity would return with a vengeance and his suddenly heavy body would be helped on its downward path by a savage tugтАж only to be again converted to a weightless state as Hermione re-cast the charm. After a half-dozen such exchanges, Harry was a good hundred feet closer to the ground and beginning to feel nauseous from the multiple abrupt transitions between floating and falling. He began to worry about what would happen if he sicked up in his current position. He couldn't imagine that either team would react favorably to being showered with vomit from above.

Harry closed his eyes, willing his stomach to settle down while the opposing powers battled over him, but rapidly reopened them when the lack of sensory information merely made the nausea worse. He craned his neck around to see how Hermione was doing, and he was horrified and alarmed by what he saw.

His friend looked awful; her face was gray and drawn with strain, as if she were the one being manhandled, not him. Hermione's nose had started to bleed but her focus remained intent on Harry. She whispered her spell over and over and over, trying to pry him loose from whatever malign force was trying to pull him to his death.

But it wasn't enough.

From the sensations which dragged his body back and forth, Harry could tell that Hermione's grip on him was weakening. Each pull to the ground was stronger than the previous one, and he knew that the next yank тАУ or maybe the one after that тАУ would tear him loose from her flagging hold, and then there was nothing to stop him from dropping like a rock and dashing his brains out on the ground far below.

Just then, a flash of gold darted past and the Slytherin Seeker, scanning the field, saw it. Then he saw Harry.

He jerked to a halt on his broom, eyes huge, and the Gryffindor Seeker, hungrily searching for the snitch, followed his gaze. "HARRY!" she shrieked in shock, and that made the rest of the players turn and look.

Harry could hear Flint's curse from where he was still being jerked about in mid air, and then the Weasley twins, Flint, and both Seekers were heading towards him with desperate speed, the rest of the teams following close behind.

But even as he saw them coming, he felt the force snap Hermione's hold on him one final time, and he was flung at the ground with vicious force. He knew the Quidditch players would never reach him in time.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" Hermione's last weak cry sounded in his ears as he threw up his arms in a futile attempt to fend off the ground that was rushing up to meet him.

#--#--

Snape exchanged another glare with Minerva as their two teams battled for supremacy. "It would be nice if your team could someday learn to play without fouling their opponents at every opportunity," she commented snarkily.

"It would be nice if your team could someday learn to play," he retorted, smirking as her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh, no," Minerva trailed off into muttered Gaelic imprecations as she caught sight of the Slytherin Seeker's expression. "He's spotted it."

Snape glowered. That idiot тАУ he knew better than to let his expression reveal anything to the other team! What was he thinking of, to gawp like that, thereby revealing that he had spotted the elusive gold ball? You'd think he had never seen a snitch befoтАФWhat the hell was that?

"Harry!" Minerva gasped, even as Snape's disbelieving eyes finally sorted out what he was seeing.

Potter was somehow levitating over the field, at an impossibly high altitude, and being flung back and forth between two invisible forces. Snape's keen gaze quickly caught sight of the bushy haired girl and her wand, but who was controlling the other force? Who was trying to send Harry crashing to his death below?

Even as the screams and shouts erupted around him, as the rest of the audience finally saw why the Quidditch players had all abandoned their game and were streaking towards the stands with all the velocity they could muster, Snape was busy scanning the crowd. Where тАУ where тАУ there! That turbaned idiot! Quirrell was staring fixedly at Harry, and while Snape couldn't hear any spells being cast, he was under no illusion as to who was responsible. Snape felt a surge of homicidal fury wash over him, only strengthened by the fact that the stuttering wreck had the audacity to be trying to kill Potter while sitting right there, in the faculty section! He took two steps to his right and shot his arm straight out.

He connected squarely with Quirrell's right shoulder blade, and the DADA instructor was jolted off his seat. With a startled cry, he tumbled down the steep incline, his turbaned head and robe-covered arse alternating in painful collisions with the stands until he sprawled, unconscious, at the base of the stairs.

#-#-

Even as she frantically recast her spell, Hermione knew it was no use. The other wizard тАУ whoever he or she was тАУ was too powerful. She had surprised them with her spell, and that shock had allowed her to pull Harry back for a few seconds, but now they had regrouped, and that last jolt had nearly knocked her down, as well as causing Harry to plunge several stories. She could feel her own magic draining away with the effort. Very little was left, but she gritted her teeth and cast again. She'd keep fighting as long as there was a single spark of magic left within her.

Astonishingly, miraculously, when she grabbed Harry this time, there was no opposition. She could sense his falling form, but for the first time, there was no malevolent force actively wrenching him from her. She was too tired to hope to pull him all the way back up to where she was, but she could at least make his fall to the ground a controlled one.