Dark Kingdom.

So that's what those sand pits were for.

"And Casteel is down! But she's climbing to her feet! What an athlete! And the new Gryffindor Seeker is proving to be harder to pin down than anyone had thought! What a match!"

Seeing she wasn't hurt too grievously, he turned his attention back to finding the Snitch, but in his momentary distraction it had disappeared from his sight. But he was given no reprieve to look for it. He barely managed to avoid a Bludger an opposing Beater hit his way, and was side swiped a moment later by said Beater. The Weasley twins were rallying though and between the two of them, they managed to hit a Slytherin with both Bludgers at once.

"And Westbanks is hit with a double whammy! He's managed to stay on his broom but you can tell the breath's been knocked out of him!"

The Quidditch field was quickly descending into a battle field, and so many fouls and penalties were being called that the players were soon starting to ignore the referee altogether. Angelina was intentionally run into a goal post and had to be replaced by a very reluctant spare. One of the twins was bleeding from the head, but showed no signs of slowing, although he seemed a bit confused and hit a Quaffle at the Slytherin captain. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, gasping and cheering and booing in a cacophony of noise. Harry tried to keep out of the madness as much as possible and search for the Snitch, but the Slytherins were making it difficult. He was forced to keep moving, faster than the other players and in erratic patterns, and the few times he spotted the Snitch he had to look away to avoid an oncoming Bludger or Slytherin or goal post or wall.

Westbanks, the Slytherin Seeker, had given up on watching Harry and was actually trying to find the Snitch as well. Harry had managed to distract him twice by pretending to see the Snitch, but the boy had soon caught on.

The match quickly began to tire Harry, and his bruised arm was starting to ache terrible. If he didn't find and catch the Snitch soon, then someone was probably going to get seriously hurt. That someone was most likely him. He ducked under Wood while trying to throw off one of his pursuers and as he glanced up to make sure the two didn't collide, he saw something shiny above the other players. Unwilling to lose sight of it yet again, he shot upwards, nearly knocking his captain off his broom. The Slytherin Seeker followed, but it was clearly too late for him.

His broom angled straight up, he reached out with his hand to wrap his hand around the tiny metal ball. It shone like a second sun, blinding in its brilliance, and everything slowed into a singularly perfect moment. He could see and feel it in his hands, felt a joyous triumph as the delicate wings stilled, and the golden ball rested serenely in his grasp.

And then the world shatter.

Something fast and hard smashed into his back, between his shoulder blades. Broom and rider were torn apart. For a moment, both seemed to hover as if suspended. And then Harry began to fall.

He was too stunned to panic, and that was ironically what saved him. His thoughts were simple, ordered, and to the point. I'm falling, was his first thought. I'm falling without my broom. I need my broom.

And very calmly, he called upon that instinct that had been present that fateful Thursday last September. It was the very same instinct that compelled his broom to leap into his hand with a simple 'UP!'. He reached out his hand, the one not clutching to the Snitch, to his hovering broom and released a command.

"Come!"

And it obeyed. In a flash the broom flew the fifty feet that had separated them to smack painfully into his hand. He gripping it as tightly as he could and felt his descent begin to slow. Too weak to climb back onto his broom and still too stunned to consider relinquishing the snitch, Harry hung helplessly by one hand as he made his gradual descent.

The entire arena was deathly still. Harry continued to float down, past the other players who all stared stunned as he went passed. Still a bit dazed, he looked one Slytherin in the eye as he passed and said simply:

"Bludger." The boy blinked. "What?"

A malevolent black ball smashed into his side a moment later and unseated him. The broken tableau seemed to bring everyone back to their senses.

"Harry Potter's caught the Snitch! Gryffindor WINS!"

A deafening cheer rose up all around. Harry's feet had barely touched the ground, legs unable to support him, and Weasley's arms were suddenly around him. They were soon followed by the rest of the Gryffindor team who surrounded and praised and shook and thumped his bruised back.

"You did it, Harry! You did it! You did it!"

And Harry nodded and grinned and ignored the painful throb of his body. Beyond the circle of Gryffindors, the Slytherins were only now descending. Though he was no stranger to hatred, he couldn't help but be a bit shocked at the sheer malevolence they exuded in his direction. If he weren't surrounded by his own teammates he had no doubt he would not have left the pitch on his feet. Suddenly, his teammates fell silent and pulled away from him in order to watch the Dark Lord stride towards them. His expression was completely neutral, as was Snape's, but Lestrange looked positively livid. Again, he felt as if his legs were going to give out underneath him.

It wasn't until Voldemort stood directly in front of him that Harry realized the other players had all fallen behind him to form perfect triangle, and bowed down on one knee in reverence. Harry was about to follow their example, but an outraged cry made him hesitate. "He cheated!"

Everyone turned their attention to Morgenson, who stood next to a very red faced Whitehall. Snape lifted a brow.

"Care to expand on that?"

"He obviously has extra spells on his broom!" the dark boy groused, "There's no other way he could have summoned his broom like that without additional charms. He's a cheater."

With that, the boy pointed his broom at him like a giant accusing finger. "It is rather suspicious," the Headmistress said offhandedly.

Harry felt himself flush at the accusation, glaring at the other boy.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense, Mr. Potter?"Voldemort asked, his tone more curious than accusatory. His indifference eased much of Harry's anxiety for what he was about to do.

"Yes. Up!"

Morgenson's broom leapt clean out of his hands and right into Harry's. The boy was jerked forward by the move, lost his balance, and fell flat on his face.

"MR. POTTER!" Lestrange snapped in outrage, snapping out her wand. Harry stepped back, but before she utter the curse on the tip of her tongue, Voldemort placed his hand on her wand and lowered it.

"I believe Mr. Potter has vindicated himself of wrong doing. I will not have him punished for an exceptional display of wandless magic or flying skill," Voldemort said pleasantly, although his eyes glinted harshly as he spoke to her. They softened, or at least lost their crimson glow, when he turned back to Harry. "In fact, it is deserving of recognition. Kneel down, Mr. Potter."

Cautiously, he did as he was told, bowing as the others did on one knee but never taking his eyes off the man. With twirl of his wand and a wordless incantation, a crown of golden laurels appeared in mid-air, and hovered there until Voldemort took it in both hands.

"To the victor," Voldemort said, and his voice echoed through the entire arena, "Glory and Honor everlasting." And silence that enveloped the arena shattered into another riot of noise and jubilee. When the man spoke again, it was no longer amplified.

"You may rise." And Harry did, looking at the man questioningly. Voldemort merely smiled, a strange secret smile and leaned close to whisper in his ear. "It suits you."

And with that the Dark Lord strode away, leaving Harry terrible confused and blushing horribly. Bellatrix remained where her master had left her, her wand pointed towards the ground and looking as if she had somehow been betrayed. A twitch started under her eye, and she abruptly turned and stormed off the field, snapping something at the cluster of sulking Slytherins. Snape favored him an amused look.

"As interesting as today's match was," the dark man began, "Mr. Potter, I do hope you'll be exercising a bit more caution in the following matches. I rather don't fancy the other players attempting to mimic you. I'm in charge of stocking the infirmary after all."

✨Visit my site at tiendup for more advanced content...✨

✨Read the complete novel in PDF, available at my Store!…✨

 ✨https://smithnovels.tiendup.com/✨