Harry, Ron and Hermione had Herbology first thing the following morning so Christina had been unable to tell Ron and Hermione about Christina and Harry's first lesson. Although, Christina was sure Harry would fill them in during class. Sure enough, during lunch Christina got the highlights.
"You missed it, wasn't sure if Hermione was going to punch Ron or if Ron was going to punch Hermione." Harry whispered to Christina. Christina was sitting next to Harry while on her right was Ron and on Harry's left was Hermione, angrily reading her textbook for Ancient Runes.
"What happened?" Christina asked.
"Slughorn's Christmas party is coming up, and we have to go, he apparently even checked for our free evenings so we couldn't say no." Christina groaned.
"You're joking."
"But we get to bring a guest, why Ron was freaking out because apparently Hermione was going to ask him to go—"
"Ask him out, out?"
"Well, er, I don't know. Yes?"
"Get out . . ." Christina always knew Hermione acted weird around Ron but she didn't think Hermione would actually act on those feelings. What if Ron and Hermione started going out together, then split up? Could their friendship survive it? Christina remembered the few weeks when they had not been talking to each other in the third year; she had not enjoyed trying to bridge the distance between them. And then, what if they didn't split up? What if they became like Bill and Fleur, and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence, so that she was shut out for good?
Although Christina watched her two friends more closely over the next few days, Ron and Hermione did not seem any different except that they were a little politer to each other than usual. Christina supposed she would just have to wait to see what happened under the influence of butterbeer in Slughorn's dimly lit room on the night of the party. In the meantime, however, she had more pressing worries. Katie Bell was still in St. Mungo's Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that the promising Gryffindor team Harry had been training so carefully since September was one Chaser short. Harry kept putting off replacing Katie in the hope that she would return, but their opening match against Slytherin was looming, and he finally had to accept that she would not be back in time to play. Christina did not think Harry could stand another full-House tryout. Instead he illogically, at least to Christina, asked Dean Thomas to join the team. The others who tried out were extremely disappointed that Harry chose another sixth year but if Gryffindor won, Christina knew that the whole House would forget that they had criticized Harry and swear that they had always known it was a great team. If they lost . . . well, Harry has endured worse. . . .
Christina had no reason to resent Harry's choice once she saw Dean fly that evening; he worked well with Christina and Ginny. The Beaters, Peakes and Coote, were getting better all the time. The only problem was Ron. Christina had known all along that Ron was an inconsistent player who suffered from nerves and a lack of confidence, and unfortunately, the looming prospect of the opening game of the season seemed to have brought out all his old insecurities. After letting in half a dozen goals, most of them scored by Christina, his technique became wilder and wilder, until he finally punched an oncoming Ginny in the mouth.
"It was an accident, I'm sorry, Ginny, really sorry!" Ron shouted after her as she zigzagged back to the ground, dripping blood everywhere. "I just —"
"Panicked," Ginny said angrily examining her fat lip. "You prat, Ron, look at the state of my face!"
"I can fix that," said Harry, landing beside Ginny, pointing his wand at her mouth, and saying "Episkey." "And Ginny, don't call Ron a prat, you're not the Captain of this team —"
"Well, you seemed too busy to call him a prat and I thought someone should —" Christina forced herself not to laugh. "In the air, everyone, let's go. . . ." Harry commanded. Overall it was one of the worst practices they had had all term, though Harry did not say it.
"Good work, everyone, I think we'll flatten Slytherin," he said bracingly and the Chasers and Beaters left the changing room looking reasonably happy with themselves.
"I played like a sack of dragon dung," said Ron in a hollow voice when the door had swung shut behind Ginny.
"No, you didn't," said Harry firmly. "You're the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves." He kept up a relentless flow of encouragement all the way back to the castle, and by the time they reached the second floor, Ron was looking marginally more cheerful. Christina was annoyed that they had to deal with Ron's nerves but he was on the team, there was nothing she could do. When Harry pushed open the tapestry to take their usual shortcut up to Gryffindor Tower, however, they found themselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as though glued together.
"Oi!" Ron yelled. Dean and Ginny broke apart and looked around.
"What?" said Ginny.
"I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!"
"This was a deserted corridor till you came butting in!" said Ginny. Dean was looking embarrassed. He gave Harry a shifty grin that Harry did not return.
"Er . . . c'mon, Ginny," said Dean, "let's go back to the common room. . . ."
"You go!" said Ginny. "I want a word with my dear brother!" Dean left, looking as though he was not sorry to depart the scene.
"Right," said Ginny, tossing her long red hair out of her face and glaring at Ron, "let's get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do with them, Ron —"
"Yeah, it is!" said Ron, just as angrily. "D'you think I want people saying my sister's a —"
"A what?" shouted Ginny, drawing her wand. "A what, exactly?"
"He doesn't mean anything, Ginny —" said Harry. Christina with her usual awkward grimace just watched.
"Oh yes he does!" she said, flaring up at Harry. "Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Auntie Muriel —"
"Shut your mouth!" bellowed Ron, bypassing red and turning maroon.
"No, I will not!" yelled Ginny, beside herself. "I've seen you with Phlegm, hoping she'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, it's pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!" Ron had pulled out his wand too; Christina shook her head from her paralyzing fear and stepped swiftly between them putting an arm in between both of them.
"As cool as my powers are I'd really like to not use them to separate you two." Christina said trying to ease the tension but Ron was still fired up.
"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron roared, trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Christina, who was now standing in front of Ginny with her arms outstretched. "Just because I don't do it in public — !" Ginny screamed with derisive laughter, trying to push Christina out of the way.
"Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?"
"You—" A streak of orange light flew from Ron's wand and something peculiar happened. Christina caught the spell . . . in a casing of castle rock. She looked at the baseball-bat shaped rock and it was now glowing orange. Christina let it drop to the ground and it exploded, the orange jet of light hitting the wall with a burst. Christina looked at Harry, Ron and Ginny who were all speechless.
"We'll discuss that later – move!" and Ron threw another spell at Ginny under Harry's left arm and missed Ginny by inches; Harry pushed Ron up against the wall. "Don't be stupid —"
"Harry's snogged Cho Chang! Christina's engaged!" shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. "And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!" And with that, she stormed away. Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous. They stood there, breathing heavily, until Christina asked, "Quick, someone hex me I want to catch it!", which broke the tension.
"C'mon," said Harry. They hurried up the stairs and along a seventh-floor corridor.
"Oi, out of the way!" Ron barked at a small girl who jumped in fright and dropped a bottle of toadspawn.
"D'you think Hermione did snog Krum?" Ron asked abruptly, as they approached the Fat Lady.
"Yes, Ron. She almost spent the summer with him remember?" Christina didn't spare Ron's feelings, he needed it hear it more than he needed to feel good. Ron only groaned.
"Dilligrout," he said darkly to the Fat Lady, and they climbed through the portrait hole into the common room. Christina stayed with Harry and Ron for about five minutes before realizing that each boy would be absorbed in thoughts about girls and left them in the common room with their thoughts. She had a letter to write Fred anyways.
Dear Fred,
Lester Macmillian Corn Wallace the Third says hello, we should just shorten it to . . . LMCW3. That should be a secret password to something. Only you, me, and Filch who is probably reading this will know. So, Katie Bell got cursed from a necklace that someone gave to her in the bathroom (I guess, not the worst thing you could find in a bathroom, right?) and she's deathly ill in St. Mungo's so Dean Thomas is now a chaser on the team which is not as horrible as you might think. Although Ron is fraught with jealousy that Ginny has a boyfriend and he doesn't (have a girlfriend . . . or boyfriend, no judgement). Found out I came from the same orphanage as Voldemort so . . . that's weird. Anyways, more later. Love you lots.
Xoxo
C
The next day Ron was now not only cold-shouldering Ginny and Dean, but also treating a hurt and bewildered Hermione with an icy, sneering indifference. Ron seemed to have become, overnight, as touchy and ready to lash out as the average Blast-Ended Skrewt. Christina spent the day watching Harry attempting to keep the peace between Ron and Hermione with no success; finally, Hermione departed for bed in high dudgeon, and Ron stalked off to the boys' dormitory after swearing angrily at several frightened first years for looking at him. To Christina's dismay, Ron's new aggression did not wear off over the next few days. Worse still, it coincided with an even deeper dip in his Keeping skills, which made him still more aggressive, so that during the final Quidditch practice before Saturday's match, he failed to save every single goal Christina and the rest of the Chasers aimed at him, but bellowed at everybody so much that Christina levitated off her broom and hit him with it.
"ENOUGH!" bellowed Harry, who soared over to intervene before things got out of hand. "Peakes, go and pack up the Bludgers. Christina, get back on your broom and change. Ron . . ." but before Harry continued he gave Christina a nod to leave and she hopped back on her broom and headed down to the lockers.
"D'you think he'll finally just quit?" Ginny asked nastily.
"Ugh, is it bad that I hope so? McLaggen was good . . ." said Christina feeling guilty. McLaggen wasn't too bad to look at either . . . Christina shook herself out of her thoughts when Harry and Ron showed up in the lockers. Neither one saying a word to anyone. Finally, when out of earshot of the others Harry pulled Christina aside on their walk back up to the castle.
"He's going to resign if we lose tomorrow." He said somberly.
"Really?" she said trying to sound sad, "Have you tried talking to him?" But nothing Harry said made any difference. He tried boosting Ron's confidence all through dinner, but Ron was too busy being grumpy and surly with Hermione to notice. Harry persisted in the common room that evening, but his assertion that the whole team would be devastated if Ron left was somewhat undermined by the fact that the rest of the team sans Christina was sitting in a huddle in a distant corner, clearly muttering about Ron and casting him nasty looks. Finally, Harry tried getting angry again in the hope of provoking Ron into a defiant, and hopefully goal-saving, attitude, but this strategy did not appear to work any better than encouragement; Ron went to bed as dejected and hopeless as ever.
"What're we going to do? He's hopeless in this state." Harry said slinking into the couch. Christina sighed. She did not want to lose to Slytherin especially after the hate they'd been getting from Malfoy but she really didn't want to have to do a song and dance every time there was a match for Ron's feelings to be boosted.
"Want me to put lead in all the Slytherin brooms?" she joked but Harry pounced on the idea.
"Could you?!" Christina laughed again, "No! People know I've got the natural powers now they'll probably think I've been cheating the past three years."
"Well . . . you have, haven't you?" she laughed again, she had.
"Yeah, but not as noticeably as making Ron save every goal." Harry sighed again. It looked as though he were about to make another point for Christina to cheat but she stopped him.
"Harry, people already think I'm the worst, can we not add cheating-to-make-her-best-friend-look-good to the list?" Harry groaned and got up.
"I'm going to bed, maybe I'll dream a solution." Christina got up too and followed him up the stairs. They bid each other goodnight and Christina walked in a sat on Hermione's bed. She was, as usual, reading.
"Hermione we're going to lose tomorrow and I want to die." Christina said dramatically falling on the bed, now laying next to Hermione. Hermione shook her head smiling.
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Weather is supposed to be good tomorrow." She said still reading.
"Ron's going to quit if we lose." This got Hermione's attention, she put down the book to look at Christina.
"But he—" but Hermione, never wanting to seem to be into Ron, stopped herself, "Well, I'm sure you'll find another Keeper." Christina watched Hermione, giving her an incredulous look to which Hermione only blushed and retorted with a "What!" Christina rolled off Hermione bed and onto her own, worrying herself to sleep over the match.
Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall. Christina glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky: a good omen. The Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Christina, Harry and Ron approached. Christina grinned, Harry waved; Ron grimaced weakly and shook his head.
"Cheer up, Ron!" called Lavender. "I know you'll be brilliant!" Ron ignored her.
"Tea?" Harry asked him. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"
"Anything," said Ron glumly, taking a moody bite of toast. A few minutes later Hermione, who had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behavior that she had not come down to breakfast with them, paused on her way up the table.
"How are you all feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron's head.
"Fine," said Harry, who was concentrating on handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up." Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke sharply. "Don't drink that, Ron!" Both Christina and Ron looked up at her.
"Why not?" said Ron. Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes. "You just put something in that drink."
"What!" said Christina looking at Harry.
"Excuse me?" said Harry.
"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing a little bottle hastily in his pocket. Christina couldn't believe her eyes, "Is that-?" but Harry shushed her and looked around. Ron was still clueless.
"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!" Hermione said again, alarmed, but Ron picked up the glass, drained it in one gulp, and said, "Stop bossing me around, Hermione." She looked scandalized. Bending low so that only Christina and Harry could hear her, she hissed, "You should be expelled for that. I'd never have believed it of you, Harry!"
"Hark who's talking," he whispered back. "Confunded anyone lately?" She stormed up the table away from them. Christina hit Harry's shoulder, "You want her to hate you two? God I swear sometimes you two . . ." She then looked around at Ron, who was smacking his lips.
"Nearly time," said Harry blithely.
The frosty grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium. "Pretty lucky the weather's this good, eh?" Harry asked Ron.
"Yeah," said Ron, who was pale and sick-looking. Ginny and Dean were already wearing their Quidditch robes and waiting in the changing room.
"Conditions look ideal," said Ginny, ignoring Ron. "And guess what? That Slytherin Chaser Vaisey — he took a Bludger in the head yesterday during their practice, and he's too sore to play! And even better than that — Malfoy's gone off sick too!"
"Wait, really?" said Christina, wheeling around to stare at her. Harry looked as though he were concocting several different theories, "He's ill? What's wrong with him?"
"No idea, but it's great for us," said Ginny brightly. "They're playing Harper instead; he's in my year and he's an idiot." Christina smiled back vaguely, but as she pulled on her scarlet robes her mind was far from Quidditch. Malfoy had once before claimed he could not play due to injury, but on that occasion he had made sure the whole match was rescheduled for a time that suited the Slytherins better. Why was he now happy to let a substitute go on? Was he really ill, or was he faking?
"Fishy, isn't it?" Christina heard Harry say to Ron in an undertone. "Malfoy not playing?"
"Lucky, I call it," said Ron, looking slightly more animated. "And Vaisey off too, he's their best goal scorer, I didn't fancy — hey!" he said suddenly, freezing halfway through pulling on his Keeper's gloves and staring at Harry. "What?"
"I . . . you . . ." Ron had dropped his voice, he looked both scared and excited. "My drink . . . my pumpkin juice . . . you didn't . . . ?" Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except, "We'll be starting in about five minutes, you'd better get your boots on." As Harry walked past them Ron stared at Christina who shook her head, wishing Harry had used Felix Felicis for something more important than Quidditch . . .
They walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides too: Amidst all the yelling and clapping Christina could distinctly hear the roar of Luna Lovegood's famous lion-topped hat. Harry stepped up to Madam Hooch, the referee, who was standing ready to release the balls from the crate and next to her was an unlikely figure, Professor McGonagall.
"Now before we begin, if Ms. Bataskill could please come here." Christina was so shocked she almost didn't step forward thinking Madame Hooch was joking. When Christina finally did step forward, looking back and forth between Ron and Ginny for some clue as to what this was about, Madame Hooch was taking Christina's wrists.
"Am I under arrest?" Christina asked half-joking.
"No my dear, since the news of your, well, abilities, it's only fair that we make sure you can't use them for Gryffindor's advantage." And before Christina could contest Madame Hooch's words, Professor McGonagall performed the spell that placed those familiar red rings around her wrists and at that she stowed her wand and went back to the stands.
The entire school was watching what was going on and Christina had never felt more embarrassed in her life. The Slytherin team was watching her with sneers, this was definitely something asked by them, most likely perpetrated by Malfoy. Christina could feel every eye in the stands watching her as she went back to the Gryffindor team and mounted her broom as Harry took her place in front of Madam Hooch. How unlucky, she thought.
"Captains shake hands," she said, and Harry and new Slytherin Captain, Urquhart shook hands. "Mount your brooms. On the whistle . . . three . . . two . . . one . . ." The whistle sounded, Christina and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were away. Christina felt rocky on her broom because of the rings. Stabilizing herself was one of the first things she learned to do, but Christina was a good flyer, she just wouldn't be a phenomenal one today . . .
Christina, Dean, and Ginny and split up to come at the Slytherin chasers from all sides. Then a voice that was jarringly different to the usual commentator's started up.
"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help. . . ." These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Christina craned around on her broom to look toward the commentator's podium. A tall, skinny blond boy with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the magical megaphone that had once been Lee Jordan's; Christina recognized Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff player whom she heartily disliked.
"Oh, and here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal, it's Urquhart streaking down the pitch and —" Christina's stomach turned over. "— Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose. . . ."
"Oh thank Christ," muttered Christina, relieved, as she dived amongst the Chasers snatching the quaffle from an unsuspecting Slytherin chaser. "That's Bataskill with the quaffle and as we witnessed early, she cannot cheat like she normally does. Let's see how that effects Gryffindor's chances . . ." Red faced and angry, Christina weaved in and out of bludgers and chasers and with all her might, threw the quaffle so hard at the goalposts that when their Keeper tried to catch it, it sent him and the quaffle through the goal posts.
"And it seems she's knocked him off his broom, well, we all knew she was violent . . ."
With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, Ron having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves, and Christina having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. This effectively stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Harry liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead.
"Of course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a Beater," said Zacharias loftily, "they've generally got a bit more muscle —"
Christina wished someone would just hit him with a bludger. However as the game went on it seemed as though Gryffindor could do no wrong. Again and again they scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saved goals with apparent ease. He was actually smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favorite "Weasley Is Our King," he pretended to conduct them from on high.
"And I think Harper of Slytherin's seen the Snitch!" said Zacharias Smith through his megaphone. "Yes, he's certainly seen something Potter hasn't!" Smith really was an idiot, thought Christina, Harry has almost never missed the snitch. Christina was riding alongside Ginny with the quaffle when a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signaled the end of the game.
Christina hurled around and saw Harry triumphantly holding the golden snitch. "YES!" Christina said and turned to Ginny who was speed up past her.
"Ginny, where're you going?" yelled Christina, who was landing now next to the rest of the Gryffindor's. But Ginny sped right on past them until, with an almighty crash, she collided with the commentator's podium. As the crowd shrieked and laughed, the Gryffindor team landed beside the wreckage of wood under which Zacharias was feebly stirring; Christina heard Ginny saying blithely to an irate Professor McGonagall, "Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry." Laughing, Christina broke free of the rest of the team and held up her wrists for Professor McGonagall who at once waved her wand and they disappeared. She winked at Christina, which Christina took to be a gesture of congrats-on-not-cheating-and-still-winning.
"Party up in the common room, Seamus said!" yelled Dean exuberantly. "C'mon, Ginny, Christina!" Christina, Ron and Harry were the last ones in the changing room. They were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined.
"I want a word with you, Harry." She took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal."
"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Ron.
"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry, turning away to hang up his robes.
"You know perfectly well what we're talking about!" said Hermione shrilly. "You spiked Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! !"
"No, I didn't," said Harry, turning back to face them both. "Yes you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!"
"I didn't put it in!" said Harry, grinning broadly. Christina just shook her head and laughed, but then he slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax.
"I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." He looked at Ron. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself." He pocketed the potion again.
"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" Ron said, astounded. "But the weather's good . . . and Vaisey couldn't play. . . . I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?" Harry shook his head. Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice. "You added it to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!"
"I never said you couldn't — Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!" But Ron had already strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.
"Er," said Christina into the sudden silence, "shall . . . shall we go up to the party, then?"
"You go!" said Hermione, blinking back tears. "I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done. . . ." And she stormed out of the changing room too.
"Should we go after her?" Christina asked but Harry merely shook his head, "Let her fume, she's just gonna get worse if we try to help . . ."
Christina and Harry walked slowly back up the grounds toward the castle through the crowd, many of whom shouted congratulations at them, but Christina still felt the embarrassment from being outed in front of the entire school. If she ever saw Zacharias . . . At the Gryffindor celebration party, Christina could not see Hermione, which was in full swing when they arrived. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted their appearance, and they were soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating them, well, mostly Harry. What with trying to shake off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis, and the large group of girls that encircled him, laughing at his least amusing comments and batting their eyelids, Christina suddenly felt a huge rush of sadness. She had missed Fred dearly for the past two months but suddenly she felt completely alone without him. After winning a match Fred would always steal food and alcohol from the kitchens and would dance with Christina while treating people to trick sweats and pranks . . . watching everyone having a laugh, drinking, hugging friends, dancing, Christina felt so far away from everything. She wanted to leave.
As she was ducking toward the drinks table, she walked straight into Ginny, Arnold the Pygmy Puff riding on her shoulder and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her heels.
"Looking for Ron?" she asked, smirking.
"No, I-"
"He's over there, the filthy hypocrite." Christina looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.
"It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?" said Ginny dispassionately. "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Christina." She patted Christina on the arm, but Christina couldn't help but notice that the back on his red head reminded her still of Fred, and with a heave pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside seemed to be deserted. Christina felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes and went into the first unlocked classroom she tried.
"Hermione?" At the teacher's desk sitting was Hermione, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair. Christina could not help admiring her spellwork at a time like this.
"Oh, hello, Christina," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practicing."
"Right, yeah. . . sorry to bother you . . ." said Christina. She was wondering whether there was any chance that Hermione had not noticed Ron, that she had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, when she said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, "Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations." Christina sighed, forgetting about her problems. "Yeah." said Christina.
"He wasn't exactly hiding it, was — ?" The door behind them burst open. To Christina's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.
"Oh," he said, drawing up short at the sight of Christina and Hermione.
"Oops!" said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. Christina raised a hand and lifted a rock one by the door, slamming it shut in her face. There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron, who refused to look at her, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness, "Hi, Christina! Wondered where you'd got to!" Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.
"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she said quietly. "She'll wonder where you've gone." She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Christina glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.
"Oppugno!" came a shriek from the doorway. Christina spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.
"Gerremoffme!" he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Christina thought she heard a sob before it slammed.