But it wasn't enough.
From the sensations which dragged his body back and forth, Harry could tell that Hermione's grip on him was weakening. Each pull to the ground was stronger than the previous one, and he knew that the next yank тАУ or maybe the one after that тАУ would tear him loose from her flagging hold, and then there was nothing to stop him from dropping like a rock and dashing his brains out on the ground far below.
Just then, a flash of gold darted past and the Slytherin Seeker, scanning the field, saw it. Then he saw Harry.
He jerked to a halt on his broom, eyes huge, and the Gryffindor Seeker, hungrily searching for the snitch, followed his gaze. "HARRY!" she shrieked in shock, and that made the rest of the players turn and look.
Harry could hear Flint's curse from where he was still being jerked about in mid air, and then the Weasley twins, Flint, and both Seekers were heading towards him with desperate speed, the rest of the teams following close behind.
But even as he saw them coming, he felt the force snap Hermione's hold on him one final time, and he was flung at the ground with vicious force. He knew the Quidditch players would never reach him in time.
"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" Hermione's last weak cry sounded in his ears as he threw up his arms in a futile attempt to fend off the ground that was rushing up to meet him.
#--#--
Snape exchanged another glare with Minerva as their two teams battled for supremacy. "It would be nice if your team could someday learn to play without fouling their opponents at every opportunity," she commented snarkily.
"It would be nice if your team could someday learn to play," he retorted, smirking as her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Oh, no," Minerva trailed off into muttered Gaelic imprecations as she caught sight of the Slytherin Seeker's expression. "He's spotted it."
Snape glowered. That idiot тАУ he knew better than to let his expression reveal anything to the other team! What was he thinking of, to gawp like that, thereby revealing that he had spotted the elusive gold ball? You'd think he had never seen a snitch befoтАФWhat the hell was that?
"Harry!" Minerva gasped, even as Snape's disbelieving eyes finally sorted out what he was seeing.
Potter was somehow levitating over the field, at an impossibly high altitude, and being flung back and forth between two invisible forces. Snape's keen gaze quickly caught sight of the bushy haired girl and her wand, but who was controlling the other force? Who was trying to send Harry crashing to his death below?
Even as the screams and shouts erupted around him, as the rest of the audience finally saw why the Quidditch players had all abandoned their game and were streaking towards the stands with all the velocity they could muster, Snape was busy scanning the crowd. Where тАУ where тАУ there! That turbaned idiot! Quirrell was staring fixedly at Harry, and while Snape couldn't hear any spells being cast, he was under no illusion as to who was responsible. Snape felt a surge of homicidal fury wash over him, only strengthened by the fact that the stuttering wreck had the audacity to be trying to kill Potter while sitting right there, in the faculty section! He took two steps to his right and shot his arm straight out.
He connected squarely with Quirrell's right shoulder blade, and the DADA instructor was jolted off his seat. With a startled cry, he tumbled down the steep incline, his turbaned head and robe-covered arse alternating in painful collisions with the stands until he sprawled, unconscious, at the base of the stairs.
#-#-
Even as she frantically recast her spell, Hermione knew it was no use. The other wizard тАУ whoever he or she was тАУ was too powerful. She had surprised them with her spell, and that shock had allowed her to pull Harry back for a few seconds, but now they had regrouped, and that last jolt had nearly knocked her down, as well as causing Harry to plunge several stories. She could feel her own magic draining away with the effort. Very little was left, but she gritted her teeth and cast again. She'd keep fighting as long as there was a single spark of magic left within her.
Astonishingly, miraculously, when she grabbed Harry this time, there was no opposition. She could sense his falling form, but for the first time, there was no malevolent force actively wrenching him from her. She was too tired to hope to pull him all the way back up to where she was, but she could at least make his fall to the ground a controlled one.
#-#-
The instant Quirrell was neutralized, Snape threw out a line of magic to Harry, feeling Minerva, Dumbledore, and several of the other staff do the same. Others тАУ including many of the students тАУ were casting cushioning charms over the field, and amongst them all, Harry was lowered to the ground rather more quickly than Snape would have liked, but slowly enough that he suffered no injuries.
Harry touched down and instantly fell to his knees, exhausted both physically and emotionally by the near-deadly tug of war. Flint, Wood, and the others dropped alongside him seconds later.
Snape was one of the first onto the field, though he was never thereafter sure how he made it down from the faculty section so quickly. Technically, the school's anti-apparition wards were in place, but it seemed that he reached Harry mere seconds after the boy was safe.
He shoved past the Quidditch teams, all now off their brooms and gathered worriedly about Harry.
"Pr'fessor!" Harry caught sight of him and managed to stand up.
"Potter!" Snape caught him by the arms. Being wrenched between two magical forces could easily have ripped the boy apart. Could there be internal damage? Unseen injuries? "How are you?"
"Erm тАУ " Harry looked acutely uncomfortable, and Snape's spine chilled. He knew it тАУ the boy needed to be transported to St Mungo's immediately!
"What is it?"
"I тАУ uh тАУ have a little problem," Harry admitted awkwardly.
Snape paused from where he was counting the boy's limbs. "Well? Speak up, you foolish child! What is it?" he demanded, terror making his voice even harsher than normal.
"ErmтАж" Harry held out one hand, his fist tightly clenched. Snape stared at it тАУ muscle spasms? Paralysis?
As he watched, the boy slowly unfolded his fingers and there, sitting quietly on his palm, sat the Golden Snitch.
"I тАУ ah тАУ noticed it on my way down and sort of, er, grabbed it," Harry confessed.
"Ha! We win! Our Seeker caught the snitch!" Oliver Wood yelled in triumph, snatching the snitch from Harry's hand and holding it aloft.
"Not likely!" Flint snarled, grabbing Wood by the front of his robes. "You can't fly two Seekers at one time!"
"Potter wasn't on a broom," Wood pointed out smugly. "So he wasn't flying."
"So he wasn't playing for you!"
"He's our Seeker!"
"Not in this game!"
"He caught it, didn't he?"
"While our Head of House was controlling his descent. So he would obviously be operating as a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor."
"What! That's nonsense! He's not your Seeker!"
"Today he's as much ours as he is yours! You didn't have him on your roster!"
Madame Hooch pushed between the two yelling captains and soon all three were screaming at each other.
"ErтАж Sorry?" Harry offered uncertainly, eyeing Snape worriedly.