An Unfortunate Miracle

Chapter Eleven

Things Take A Turn

Author's Note: In response to Raggedygal: Please keep in mind, if Ivy went to the American Wizarding Council, they might try to look her up as a Muggle for some reason, and that would be bad, because she was only seven years old in 1996, and there was the whole time difference thing. And also, Ivy feels that being terrorized by centaurs is rather fitting for Umbridge.

And I've just realized, that at the beginning of every chapter, except chapter four, I've been typing 'A' Unfortunate Miracle, instead of 'An'. Sorry, but I don't feel like going back and fixing it.

After my first practice that night, Angelina was convinced that I was good enough to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a reserve Beater. Three weeks of training flew by, and it was on the day of the first Quidditch match of the season that I realized the implications of me being a reserve Beater: when Fred, George, and Harry were banned from Quidditch, I would have to replace one of the twins as Beater. The other Beater would probably be either Andrew Kirke or Jack Sloper, whom ever Angelina thought was better.

I tried to look on the bright side. Maybe I could hit Zacharias Smith with a Bludger when we played Hufflepuff. Or maybe –

"Ivy, are you listening to me?"

I looked up. "Sorry, no," I said. "What'd you say?"

We had all changed, and were going over some last minute details. I had been feeling somewhat sick all morning, ever since I had remembered about Fred, George, and Harry's Quidditch bans. But I'm sure I didn't look quite as bad as Ron, who looked like he was on the verge of throwing up.

"I was saying," said Angelina impatiently, "that if either Fred or George get hit in the head with a Bludger, or for some other reason, can't finish the game, you'll have to take their spot. Don't wait for a signal or anything, just fly in." She checked her watch. "It's time," she said quietly. "Come on everyone...good luck." We stood, shouldered our brooms, and marched into the cold, bright sunlight.

While the rest of the team continued on toward the center of the pitch to meet the Slytherins, I veered off and hurried toward a closed-off section of the Gryffindor stands. I sat down with my broom and bat in my lap, and waited for the game to start. Finally, Madame Hooch blew her whistle, the balls were released, the game began, and Lee began his commentary.

"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me – "

"JORDAN!" yelled Professor McGonagall, and I laughed.

"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest – and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's – ouch – hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe...Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and – nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away, she dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger – close call, Alicia – and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?" He paused to listen.

Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our king.

Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our king.

"Oh, no," I said quietly. "Don't listen, Ron..."

But it only went downhill from there. Lee tried to drown out the Slytherins' singing, but they just sang louder. By the time Gryffindor finally scored, the score was 40–10, to Slytherin. Shortly afterward, Harry caught the Snitch, and was promptly hit in the back by a Bludger from Crabbe.

I jumped up and ran toward Harry, tucking the bat into a pocket of my robes. I reached him at the same time as Angelina, and we helped him up.

"Are you okay, Harry?" I asked.

"'Course I am," he said.

"It was that thug, Crabbe," said Angelina. "He whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch – but we won, Harry, we won!"

The rest of the team joined us, and I hugged Fred and George. While I joined Katie and Alicia in hugging Harry, I heard Malfoy say, "We wanted to write another couple of verses! But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly – "

"Hey, Ivy!" I turned, and saw Scott, a lone Slytherin pushing through a crowd of celebrating Gryffindors. "Just wanted to congratu– "

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO! "

Scott and I both turned to look. Harry and George had already jumped Malfoy, and Madame Hooch was running toward them, her wand drawn.

"IMPEDIMENTA! "

Harry, still clutching the Snitch, was knocked over backwards. George's lip was swollen, and Fred was being held back by Alicia, Angelina, and Katie.

"What do you think you're doing?" Madame Hooch screamed. "I've never seen behavior like it – back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now! "

I watched helplessly as Harry and George marched off the pitch. I sighed. "Next time, I'll be playing Beater, Scott," I told Scott quietly.

"Why?"

"Come on, Scott," I said, heading for the changing rooms. "I'll tell you on the way."

"Banned," said Angelina hollowly, late that evening in the common room. "Banned. No Seeker and no Beaters...What on earth are we going to do?"

Our team was slumped around the fire, except for Ron, who hadn't been seen since the end of the match. The Snitch Harry had caught was now zooming around the common room. I was staring at it, watching its progress.

"It's just so unfair," said Alicia. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?"

"No," said Ginny, who was sitting next to Harry. "He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner."

"And banning Fred when he didn't even do anything," said Alicia furiously.

"It's not my fault I didn't," said Fred, looking angry. "I would've pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn't been holding me back."

I sighed miserably. "I'm going to bed," I announced, standing up.

"I'll come with you," said Angelina. "Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream...Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet..."

"Ivy...Ivy! Wake up!"

"Go away!" I murmured crankily. I rolled over. "It's Sunday morning, piss off!"

"Come on, Ivy, it's three o'clock and I want to play outside, and maybe sneak off to Hogsmeade!"

I grudgingly opened my eyes. I saw red hair. "Fred?"

"George," he corrected. "Come on, Ivy, get your cloak!"

"Why are you up here?" I asked, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.

"There aren't any girls in the tower," he said, sitting on Angelina's bed, "so I had to come up here myself."

I stared at him. "Are you going to leave so I can change?"

He smirked. "Wasn't planning on it."

"Get out before I hex you!" I said, pointing at the door.

"Okay, okay, I'll wait in the common room." He left, shutting the door behind him.

I appeared in the common room ten minutes later, carrying my winter cloak over my arm. "Where's Fred?"

George, who had been warming himself in front of the fire, jumped up. "I dunno. Come on, let's go!" he said excitedly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the common room. He dragged me all the way out to the grounds.

I gasped. Having lived in Southern California all my life, I had never seen so much snow in one place. It had snowed overnight, and now there was nearly two feet of snow on the ground.

"So what are we doing out here?" I asked, pulling my cloak around my shoulders and fastening it tightly.

"There's lot's of stuff to do!" said George. "We can skate on the lake, or we could go tobogganing, or my personal favorite, bewitching snowballs to fly up to Gryffindor Tower and rap on the windows!"

"Ooh, let's do that last one first!"

I helped George make a large pile of snowballs, and then he bewitched the snowballs to fly up to Gryffindor Tower and rap on the windows.

The window we were aiming at suddenly opened. "Oy!" bellowed Ron, sticking his head out the window. "I told you, no more – OUCH!"

George's next carefully aimed snowball hit Ron in the face. He withdrew his head sharply and slammed the window shut. We burst into laughter.

We found Fred, Lee, and the girls and had a snowball fight for a few hours, before George and I decided to go to the kitchens for a snack.

I looked from the four long tables identical to the ones in the Great Hall, to the ceiling. "So that's how it gets up there..."

"Yeah," said George. "The house elves send the food up there. Want some butterbeer?"

"Sure," I said, sitting down at the Slytherin table.

George sat next to me seconds later and handed me a bottle. "You know this is the Slytherin table?"

"Yup." I took a swig of my butterbeer.

George watched me. "What are you doing for Christmas?"

I put down my butterbeer. I hadn't really thought about it. I shrugged. "Depends on what Scott wants to do, I guess."

"Well, if you decide to go home with Lee, my mum might let me Apparate to his house."

I sipped my butterbeer. "I'll ask Scott tomorrow."

"I hope you go to Lee's," said George, "'cause I'd miss you if you stayed at Hogwarts all break."

I looked at him. He was smiling at me. I gave a small smile in return and turned back to my butterbeer.

Author's Note: Hope you liked it! Sorry it's been so long since my last update. Heat Week (band camp) was last week, and then I had marching band practice the week before that. I did a lot of writing in my notebook during breaks at camp, so now I just have to get it into the computer. Review please!