It Could Have Gone That Way; A Harmione Fanfiction

Chapter 8: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

In the week leading up to his first Quidditch match against Slytherin, Harry was especially grateful for the fact that he and Hermione were now properly friends. He didn't know how on earth he'd have gotten through all of his homework without her, what with the last-minute Quidditch practices Wood was making them do. She had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.

The day before the big match, Ron, Harry and Hermione were standing outside in the freezing courtyard, warming themselves on a little blue fire that Hermione had made in a jam jar. Snape had limped over to them and snarled,"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

Harry was relieved that Snape couldn't seem to see the little fire that Ron and Hermione were standing tightly together in front of to block from his view.

"It's a book, Professor." Harry showed Snape his Quidditch Through the Ages copy.

"Library books are not to be taken outside of the school. Give it to me." He snatched the book from Harry's hand,"Five points from Gryffindor.

"He's just made that rule up!" Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped off.

"I wonder what's wrong with his leg?" Hermione gazed after the professor quizzically.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him." Ron said bitterly.

"You know," Harry turned to Hermione,"that reminds me. When we were looking for you on Hallowe'en, we saw Snape running across the corridor. I don't know where he was going, but he didn't look as though he wanted anyone to know that he was going there."

"Perhaps it has something to do with his limp..." Hermione gasped,"the dog! He must have gone to the dog! I think we were right, Harry. Whatever is under that dog must be important, and Snape wants it so desperately that this has happened to his leg."

"Yeah, but surely he couldn't have just decided to go when the troll got in..."

"...so he must have let it in himself!" Harry finished Ron's sentence for him.

"You know what?" Hermione said thoughtfully,"Harry, I think he knows we're onto him. I mean, it's obvious that he's had it in for you lately and he's been doing everything he can to get you into trouble one way or another. He must know..." She shot Harry a grave look,"...so we must be close to figuring this out."

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Harry's broom was twisting and turning uncontrollably in the air. It lurched forwards and backwards of its own accord. Suddenly, Harry heard an eruption of noise from the crowd as they noticed him one by one. After a few seconds, he could hear hundreds of people yelling his name. Harry had to use all of his willpower to keep his consciousness, but - no matter how hard he tried - he could not stop his broom for trying to fling him halfway across the pitch.

"What d'you think's wrong with him, Hagrid?" Ron asked nervously,"Maybe something happened to the broom in a tackle or-"

"Can't have." Hagrid peered through his binoculars,"Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except Dark Magic."

At these words, Hermione let out a gasp, grabbed Hagrid's binoculars and started looking frantically around the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Ron moaned, pale-faced and looking as though he was about to be sick.

"I knew it! Snape - look!"

Ron snatched the binoculars. Snape was in the stands opposite them. His eyes were fixed onto Harry and he was muttering non-stop under his breath.