Hermione and Harry: Riddle in Time (Tomione/Harmione) UNEDITED

Chapter 19

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward.

On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match this year after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Slytherin won, they would move up into first place in the House Championship.

The day before Harry’s first Quidditch match the two of them, Harry and Hermione were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Harry.” Hemione couldn’t stand him anymore. When Harry said nothing, she continued, “Ever since that day, you’ve been acting different. You’re ignoring me when I’m with Tom. You will sit farthest from us in every class, what happened, Harry? You have to tell me. Please.”

Harry doesn’t know if he will tell her the true reason. He can’t just say that he’s jealous and he loves her. After all, she knows about how infatuated he was about Ginny. Though, Harry also has a problem with that. He can’t fully remember things in the future. He doesn’t know why.

“Harry!” Hermione yelled. “I don’t know what’s happening to you, but if you’ve forgotten, we have a mission!” She whispered the last part.

“What mission?” Harry snapped. “The mission to change the future dark lord? To change him by giving you away? If that’s what this mission is about then I’d rather die in the future than to give you to that devil!” he walked out on her. Hermione was shocked.

“Stop!” she shouted.

“If that’s what you think this mission is about, then you’re wrong! Who said about giving me away? That’s rubbish!” Hermione retorted.

“Open your eyes Hermione! Clearly that’s what Dumbledore wants!” he said then completely walked out on her.

Hermione stood there, staring at where he was a second ago. She cried. She couldn’t control her tears. She remembered how Ron walked out on them, and now Harry walked out on her. She tried to remember the happy memories, but they’re just lost, she can see but it’s blurred.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

“You’ve got to eat some breakfast.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Just a bit of toast,” wheedled Tom to Hermione.

“I’m not hungry.”

Hermione felt terrible. In an hour’s time she’d be walking onto the field and probably see Harry.

“Harry, you need your strength,” she heard Abraxas Malfoy said. “Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team.” Well, she was wrong, she already saw Harry.

By eleven o’clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Tom and Hermione joined the other Slytherins at the West Ham fan up in the top row

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their green Quidditch robes.

Harry cleared his throat for silence.

“Okay, men,” he said.
“This is the best team Gryffindor’s had in years. We’re going to win. I know it.”

He glared at them all as if to say, “Or else.”

“Right. Its time. Good luck, all of you.”

Professor Hooch, Madam Hooch’s Father, was refereeing. He stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

“Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,” he said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain which is Harry. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He looked at the Gryffindor team, and there was Charlus, he was playing Seeker.

“Mount your brooms, please.”

Professor Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Malfoy of Slytherin. Go steal it Weasley!” Harry looked at the stands, he saw Jordan, well, maybe his Grandfather.

“JORDAN!”

“Sorry, Professor.”

“YES! Alicia Wood has the Quaffle.” Alicia probably was Oliver Wood’s Grandmother.

“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Johnson, back to Wood and — no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes — Flint flying like an eagle up there — he’s going to score, yep he scored. 10 – 0. — Gryffindor has the Quaffle that’s Chaser Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and, No! Quaffle taken by the Slytherins — that’s Adrian Montague speeding off toward the goal posts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger — sent his way by Finnigan — nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes — she’s really flying — dodges a speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!”

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch.

When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from Daniel Weasley’s wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Crabbe came chasing after it.

“All right there, Harry?” he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward the Gryffindor Beater.

“Slytherin in possession,” Jordan was saying, “Chaser Malfoy ducks two Bludgers, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?”

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Gryffindor Seeker Charlus Potter had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch — all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

Harry was faster than his grandfather — he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead — he put on an extra spurt of speed — and he caught it!

“HARRY DUMBLEDORE HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!” Jordan yelled. “SADLY SLYTHERIN WINS!” the Slytherins yelled and cheered while the other houses, they weren’t so happy about the result.