✯ CHAPTER EIGHT ✯

❝You're serious?❞

November 1991.

AS THEY ENTERED November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

But there was one good thing that came with the chilly weather.

The Quidditch season had begun and on Saturday, Estella and Harry would be playing in their first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.

For a while, nobody had known that the two first year Gryffindors were going to be playing on the Quidditch team, because Wood wanted to keep it a secret, but somehow now word had gotten out and Estella was honestly starting to forget what privacy felt like.

People would stop her in the corridors to tell her that she was going to be an amazing addition to the team, while others told her she was going to be dead by Christmas.

She just tried her best to ignore it all, though.

Estella and Harry were both really lucky that they now had Hermione as their friend. With so much Quidditch practice, they didn't know how they would've got through any of their homework without her. They had also took turns at reading her copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, which she had been kind enough to lend them. Estella thought it had been quite an interesting read -- and she had learned alot from it.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved her and Estella from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before the first Quidditch match the four of them 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, when Snape crossed the yard. Estella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He came over to them. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

Estella looked at Harry's hand. It was Quidditch Through the Ages. The young Potter boy showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," Snape told him. Estella immediately knew that this was a lie, but she remained quiet having learned better than to give the Potions master any attitude. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor!"

"He's just made that rule up," Estella informed her friends, as the Professor was walking away. It was only now that she noticed he was limping. Harry seemed to have seen the same.

"Wonder what's up with his leg?"

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

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Estella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them while Estella did her own, not understanding why the two boys were always so desperate for help. She suspected that it was because they knew that if Hermione checked their answers for them they would get it right straight away.

Quite suddenly, Harry stood up, announcing that he was going to go to the staffroom and try and get Hermione's book back from Snape.

Estella gave him a look. "Better you than me."

Ron and Hermione nodded.

He was gone for quite a while, but when he returned he looked a mixture of both terrified and shocked. Ron didn't notice this at first.

"Did you get it?" the redhead turned and saw Harry's face. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Harry told him what he'd seen. Apparently Snape and Filch had been having a conversation about the three-headed dog, all while the caretaker bandaged up the potion masters bloody knee.

"You know what this means?" he finished his explanation breathlessly. "He tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween! Ron, we saw him, remember? That's where he was going -- he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

"No, he wouldn't," said Hermione, her eyes suddenly going wide. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Not very nice is an understatement, Hermione," Estella reasoned. "I'm not saying we can accuse Snape on the spot but I wouldn't be surprised if Harry turns out to be right."

Ron nodded. "Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something. I'm with Harry. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

"I don't know..." said Estella, and then she thought back to the night they had all bumped into the dog, and winced. "But I'm not sure I want to find out either."

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

The next morning, Estella awoke at dawn, when it was very bright but also very 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. Personally though, Estella was nervous. Neither her or Harry felt like touching any of the delicious food in front of them.

"Come on," Ron was saying, from across the table. "You've got to eat something. Both of you."

"I don't want anything," said Estella.

Harry shook his head. "Neither."

"Just a piece of toast," encouraged Hermione.

"Look, I'm really not hungry," Estella tried hard not to be short with her friends, but whether it was due to the nerves she felt, lack of sleep, or the fact that she was indeed hungry despite what she was saying, her words did come off quite harshly, "and it doesn't sound like Harry is either, so leave us alone....please."

"But Harry needs his strength!" said Seamus Finnigan suddenly. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, looking slightly terrified. Estella had half a mind to walk away before anyone said anything scary that related to being a Chaser.

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.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. The five of them were cheering out, in support of Gryffindor of course, as loud as they possibly could.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Estella and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).

Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, men," he said.

"And women," said Angelina Johnson, who stood next to Estella and Katie Bell, her fellow Chasers.

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it. "

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred quietly explained to Estella, who was watching the twin boys with curiosity, "we were on the team last year. We can teach you at some point, if you want, although you'll probably learn it --"

"Shut up, you two," Wood interrupted. "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. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Estella followed the rest of the team out of the locker room, nerves only rushing through her more as she heard the cheers coming from everyone on the stands.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She 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," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Estella noticed that she seemed to be aiming this mainly at the Slytherins -- specifically the captain, Marcus Flint.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Estella chambered on to her Nimbus Two-Thousand.

Madam 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 Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too--"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Estella Lupin, a new and great addition to the Gryffindor team. Only in first year too -- back to Johnson and -- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there -- he's going to sc -- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Lupin 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, Estella -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

As Estella flew away from the goal posts she had just thrown the Quaffle through, the roar of Gryffindors cheers erupted throughout the crowd. There was also plenty of howls and groans coming from the Slytherins -- the Chaser fought the urge to laugh at these.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Out on the stands, Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet, but Estella just scored a goal, so that's good."

Hagrid put on his binoculars and peered through them at Harry and Estella. "Yeah, Lupin does seem good -- Harry's kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'."

Time seemed to pass quickly, and soon enough, Estella scored another goal. Wood smiled at her when this happened, but she couldn't help but notice his change in expression as he looked over at Harry after.

Her eyes followed his gaze.

The young Potter boy was close to being hit with a Bludger -- it was flying in his direction, almost like a cannonball. Thankfully, Fred Weasley managed to smack it away before it hit him, though.

"All right there, Harry?" the twin had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Estella was hoping desperately to herself that Harry had seen it, and within seconds she realised that he had. He dived down in the direction of the Golden Snitch, and at first was significantly faster than the Slytherin seeker.

In fact, he was this close to being able to actually reach out for the Snitch when -- WHAM!

A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below -- Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors. Estella didn't disagree with her house. It had been a filthy piece of cheating that she'd witnessed!

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In football you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't football, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides -- and Estella couldn't blame him. She suspected that even a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would have something to say about Slytherin after seeing that.

"So -- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating--"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul. . . "

"Jordan, I'm warning you--"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Lupin, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

As the game went on, nobody seemed to notice that Harry's broom had gone berserk. Not even Estella -- who was way too focused on trying to score more goals.

Lee was still commenting, the Slytherins were cheering (which of course meant they were in possession) -- however, the first person who did notice what was going on with Harry's broom was Hagrid.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," he mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom. . . but he can't have. . ."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. This is when Estella and the rest of the team finally noticed. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped -- Estella included. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic -- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, gray-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape -- look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something -- jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys and Estella flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately.

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row -- Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Estella watched nervously as Harry began to speed down to the ground -- he was holding his mouth, as though he was going to be sick. However, as he landed she watched him wave something above his head -- a glittering, shiny speck of gold that glistened in the wintery air.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted and the game ended in complete confusion.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

After changing back into her normal clothes and leaving the locker room, Estella was met immediately with Hermione, who was out of breath and looked to still be in shock of all the events of the game.

Estella tried to shove past her, kindly of course.

"Sorry, Mione. My Dad came to the game, and I want to see him, but I need to catch him quick before he goes home," she explained.

"I understand that," Hermione nodded. "But, Stella, this is important. Do you have just one minute?"

Estella sighed, but nodded. "One minute."

"Great," said Hermione, her voice suddenly lowering to a whisper. "You know what happened to Harry's broom during the game? It was Snape's fault!"

The young Lupin arched her eyebrow.

"How?"

"When Harry's broom went all funny," Hermione began to explain, "Seamus suggested that maybe something had happened to it when Flint threw that Bludger, but Hagrid said that wasn't possible -- only dark magic could mess with a broomstick like that."

Hermione paused, catching her breath.

"I looked through the binoculars, and saw Snape muttering an incantation of some sort, and staring directly at Harry. He was the one messing with it! So, naturally, I set his cloak on fire -- and that was the only reason he stopped."

"You're serious?"

"Dead serious," Hermione nodded. "I know I said last night that I didn't think Snape was like that...but after today..."

Estella interrupted her. "Hermione, if you've seen Snape trying to curse a student, then you obviously need to tell someone about it. Who knows what else he has planned?"

Hermione shrugged. "I doubt anyone would believe me, Estella. It's not like I have proof."

"I know but..." she had made a fair point, Estella couldn't deny this, "someone still needs to know, Mione. Harry could be in danger."

"They're going to believe Snape over me, no matter what. I mean, Ron saw it too. But what is the word of two first years against a Professor?"

"That's true," Estella said, groaning enternally. She then remembered that she actually did have somewhere to be. "Well, I need to go for now -- but tell Harry that I hope he's okay. I'll see you all at dinner."

Hermione nodded and skipped off. Estella rushed to find her Father, hoping that it wasn't too late and that he was still at the school.

He was.

She found him near the Entrance to the castle, waiting for her -- he'd obviously learned by now that his young daughter was known to dawdle.

The minute Estella saw her Father, she ran into his arms, crushing