Harry Potter and the Original Tribrid

Chapter 11 - The Game

It was November and the Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Hope would be playing her first match after nearly two months of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Hope play. But it was Harry that Wood considered their secret weapon; his skill as a seeker was exceptional. But the whole school knew that Harry and Hope would be playing after her little stunt with Malfoy. Only, no one had really paid attention to Hope; other than for the fact that she was now one of the two youngest Quidditch players in a century, there was nothing special about her that they knew about, unlike Harry.

While Hope had found it easy to juggle her lessons and homework with the practice sessions, she knew Harry was having trouble keeping up. She helped him as much as she could and when she couldn't, Hermione was there as she had warmed up to both Harry and Ron after that Halloween fiasco. Hermione had also become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules. Hope suspected it was because she learned about her life and had found that nothing was ever black and white; there was always more than one side and all you can do is the best that can be done with what you're given.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy the evening before the first match. Ron, Hermione, and Hope sat together next to a window. Harry had gone off to try and get back his copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, which Snape had taken from him earlier that day for apparently no reason. It was a bad idea. Hope knew that Harry was terrified of him. And Snape hated him, for whatever reason. But Hope hadn't bothered to stop him when he said he was going to get it back; Ron and Hermione had just encouraged him to; great friends, they were.

Harry came back through the Portrait hole, trying to catch his breath.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Harry joined them. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen. Apparently, Snape had injured his legs and had sent Harry running out of the staff room, as soon as he saw him before Harry could even raise his request.

"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!"

"Stop calling it the three-headed dog," Hope snapped. "It's a Cerberus! And don't jump to conclusions. He could've been protecting the thing for all you know!"

Hope caught Hermione's eye. She knew Hermione would understand why; Hope had been hunted since birth because of a misunderstanding of a prophecy, even if Hope was a catalyst.

"Hope's right," she said. "He wouldn't. 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 -"

"That's my point!" said Hope. "You jumped to the conclusion that it's Snape because, what, he's limping? You think, Dumbledore is an idiot to overlook such an obvious clue? Only thing it proves is that Snape was there. He could've gotten bitten being careless and maybe had his back turned to, you know, try and deter any intruders. And how do you know someone was even trying to steal anything? They might have even let the troll in for... other reasons." Hope looked to Hermione and her eyes widened in realization.

"Oh, please!" said Ron. "Like what?"

"Enough!" said Harry. "Look, whoever it may be, I think we can agree someone's after whatever that dog's guarding. Otherwise, why would they move it here, from Gringotts?"