Chapter 14: A Bludger to My Heart

Hi! :)

So, this is going to be my last update until the New Year. This chapter is the longest I've ever written, and it's taken the longest to write, so I hope you guys like it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who follows, favorites, and reviews. I love hearing from you guys, it makes my day.

Wolvesaremylife1: I've actually never read the Women of the Otherworld series. A friend of mine chose Elena's name, but I'm not sure if she's read the series. :)

Enjoy this chapter! Merry Christmas (if you celebrate it) and Happy New Year!

Chaparrita xx

"You look like death warmed over," George commented as I sat down across from him.

I rolled my eyes. It had barely been two weeks since he and Elena had made their relationship official, but he and Fred had already apparently decided that they had free reign to tease me as much as they liked, even more so than usual. I did have to admit (reluctantly, mind you) that their personalities, and the antics that went along with them, had started to grow on me. Slightly. Today, however, I was not in the mood for it. I'd been up until the early hours of the morning, ready to tear my hair out as I dealt with the avalanche of homework I'd been assigned. As if that wasn't enough, I had double Arithmancy first thing after breakfast, the thought of which made the idea of drowning myself in the lake scarily appealing.

"Do you say that to Elena after she's pulled an all-nighter as well, or is that insult specially reserved for me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Well, of course I don't say that to 'Lena," he smirked, holding up his hand, which was linked with Elena's. "I happen to like her. You, on the other hand..."

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled, taking the plate he offered me and propping my Animagi book against a tureen on the table.

"That book is bigger than you are, Princess," Fred observed from where he was sitting next to me. "Then again, that's not really saying much."

"Jokes about my height and size are stupid and pointless," I said, not looking over at him as I turned the page. "You're not saying anything I haven't heard a million times before."

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He opened his mouth, closed it abruptly, and went back to his breakfast in silence. I felt a sharp pang in my chest as I returned my gaze to my book, only to find that I couldn't quite focus on the pages due to the painful sensation – was it guilt? I knew I was cranky this morning and had probably come off harsher than I meant to, but since when did I feel guilty for shutting down Fred Weasley? I usually actually enjoyed it a bit.

I sighed and turned to him, struggling to come up with some sort of apology for biting his head off, but I had just opened my mouth to form the words when –

"Did you get the notice about the career advice, 'Lyssa?" Elena asked,

I nodded, turning to look at her instead of Fred. "I have to meet with Flitwick today, during Potions class. At least I won't have to deal with Snape today."

George sighed and shook his head. "Lucky you."

I grinned as Elena sent him an incredulous look. She had to be the one person in the school who really enjoyed Potions, just because it was her best subject. To Elena, brewing potions was as simple as one plus one equals two. Very rarely could Snape find anything to criticize when he looked into her cauldron, and she actually got excited when he introduced a difficult potion to the class.

She was weird that way.

I, on the other hand, was thrilled when I got to head up to Professor Flitwick's seventh-floor office rather than down to Snape's gloomy dungeon.

"Come in, please!" Flitwick squeaked when I knocked on his door. I pushed the door open, smiling at the sight of the tiny professor sitting behind his desk, a stack of books piled onto his chair so that he could see over the top. I had always liked being in Professor Flitwick's office. Sunlight filtered in through the large window, bathing the room in warm light. Flitwick had always told us that his door was open to any Ravenclaw with a problem. I remembered Megan telling me once that when we were in our first year she had been so upset when she went to him that he'd made cupcakes dance across the tabletop for her. Professor Flitwick waving me into the office was what pulled me out of my thoughts. I shook away the memory and entered the room.

"Hi, Professor," I said, sliding my book bag off my shoulder as I sat across from him.

"Hello, Miss Summers!" he beamed, pulling a tin out of one of his desk drawers and taking the lid off, displaying rows of tiny chocolate cupcakes, dusted in what looked like sparkling golden glitter. "Would you care for a cupcake? There's nothing like a wee bit of sugar to awaken the mind, I always say!"

"No, thank you," I chuckled. "I just had lunch."

"Ah! Right then, a well-balanced lunch is the key to a well-balanced mind, I always say!" he squeaked, snapping the tin shut again. I couldn't helping smiling as he obviously didn't realize the contradiction he'd made to his previous statement. It was no wonder the students all loved him. He was like the living embodiment of sunshine, rainbows, and pure excitement, all rolled into one. A human bumblebee.

"Well, you know why you're here, and it isn't just to talk about pastries," he said, winking at me as he slid his glasses to the tip of his nose. "Let's get right to it, then!"

He unrolled a sheet of parchment upon his desk, and despite the fact that it appeared upside-down to me, I could make out my name scrawled in loopy letters across the top. He studied it for several moments, nodding excitedly as he did so.

"Well, Miss Summers, your marks are excellent, just as I expected!" he squeaked, sending me another wink. "Any thoughts on what you'd like to do with that lovely brain of yours after Hogwarts?"

"I've been thinking about it," I admitted. "I thought I might like to become a Healer."

"Interesting choice! Might I be so bold as to ask why?"

I didn't know what it was – maybe it was the warmth and curiosity in Professor Flitwick's kind, twinkling eyes; maybe it was the haze of dust floating lazily in the light streaming through the window above us; maybe it was the sweet, lingering smell of the chocolate cupcakes in the tin on the desk; but something – something wrenched honesty out of me. I sat up straighter in my chair.

"When I was younger, about seven, there was an elderly man who lived next door to me. He passed our house everyday on his way to and from work, and if I was on the front steps, he'd stop and talk to me. He'd tell me stories about when he was a kid, or just let me ramble on about whatever I wanted. I don't even remember what he did for a living, but I remember asking him why he didn't retire and stay home. He told me that he couldn't stand the thought of rattling around in the house by all day, ever since his wife had passed away. He said it was better for him to keep busy." I exhaled deeply. "And then, just after I had turned eight, he had a heart attack. The doctors couldn't save him in time. I didn't realize what was happening until my parents sat me down and explained. It seems silly now, but I remember thinking that if I could do magic, if I was some kind of doctor, I could have stopped it from happening. That's not true, of course. My mum says we'll die when we're meant to, and not a moment sooner. But his death kind of fixed the idea in my mind, that if I was older, if I knew more, I could have saved him. And I guess that's what put me onto the idea of becoming a Healer in the first place, even though there's nothing I can do for him anymore."

Professor Flitwick was silent. I felt my cheeks warming in embarrassment. I hadn't meant to ramble like I had. Maybe I had told him more than I should have. I should've just said that I found Healing magic interesting or something.

But then Flitwick looked up at me and smiled again. "Thank you for your honesty, Miss Summers. I have to say, I wasn't expecting you to be so open. I'm quite honored, actually! "

"I wasn't expecting it either," I chuckled. "I'm just as surprised as you are."

He laughed. "Cheeky girl. Now then, shall we get back to the task at hand? I suppose you'd like to know what sort of training you'll have to go through?" I nodded. "Well, you're required to achieve at least an E at N.E.W.T level in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts – I doubt you'll have much trouble there," he added, beaming at me. "After that, you'd have to apply to St. Mungo's Healing Academy for further training. I do have to warn you, though, it's quite difficult to get in, and even harder to make it through to graduation."

"Why?" I frowned. "What would I have to do?"

"To be accepted, you'd have to take a written exam. It's not easy to pass, but I have no doubt that with a bit of studying, you'd get the required score," he said, winking.

I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips. "Professor, your faith in me is astounding."

"I have complete faith in all my students!" he said proudly. "As long as they work hard, there's no reason they can't do anything they set their minds to!"

"I agree with you there," I grinned. "So, what happens after the exam? Assuming I pass, of course."

"You'd attend an interview with the head of the academy. If they think you've got what it takes, you'll receive an acceptance letter, and your training will begin!" I opened my mouth to ask about the training, but I didn't have to. He was already explaining, carried away in his excitement. "There will be lessons to attend, of course. And you'll be required to spend some time as an intern at a Muggle hospital and, later, at St. Mungo's itself."

I felt my brow wrinkling as I frowned in confusion. "Why would I have to work at a Muggle hospital if I want to be a Healer? What good would it do?" I wasn't necessarily opposed to the idea, but I found it odd that they would want me to work at a place where I wasn't allowed to use magic.

"It's still important to understand the basic medical practices," Flitwick explained. "And it will help you get used to dealing with sickness before you're introduced to some of the more...interesting cases found in St. Mungo's." He chuckled.

"That makes sense," I nodded.

"Good! Do you have any more questions, Miss Summers?" I shook my head. "In that case, you had better head on to your next class."

He gave me one last smile and insisted I take a cupcake on my way out. I thanked him and left his office with a chocolate cupcake in my hand and a lot on my mind.

Athena perched on my shoulder as I walked over to the window of the Owlery. It was quiet here, except for the occasional hoot and the rustle of feathers. Still, it was quite peaceful, which was what I needed at the moment. The common room was packed with students studying frantically for the upcoming exams. I hadn't even been able to find a quiet corner in the Ravenclaw library. And the school library was even worse. You could practically feel the tension in the air, clinging to all of us. I shuddered at the thought. The final straw had been when Kathy had burst into tears while going over her Transfiguration notes. She'd been hysterical and most of her words had been incoherent, but I'd managed to catch something about being an idiot and not being able to take her O.W.L.s as Megan and I took her up to the hospital wing for a Calming Draught. Needless to say, the Easter holidays were hardly relaxing this year. After that, I'd retreated up to the Owlery for a bit of peace and quiet before I had to go back to studying.

"I could stay up here forever," I murmured to myself as I gazed out over the Hogwarts grounds. It really was beautiful here. The thought of leaving this place forever in just two years made my heart sink.

"You know, I'm really starting to worry about you," someone said behind me. I turned quickly to see Fred leaning against the doorway, smirking. "All this talking to yourself can't be healthy."

I rolled my eyes and returned my gaze to the view outside the window. "They say that people who talk to themselves are more intelligent."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Princess. So, why're you hiding out up here?"

"I was trying to enjoy the quiet," I said pointedly. He seemed to completely miss the point, though, as he joined me at the window.

"So," he said after a moment. "Are you going to bite my head off again, or was this morning a one-off?"

I suppressed a smile. "I guess we'll wait and see. Why're you up here? Are you stalking me?"

He snorted. "No, Your Highness. I couldn't stand being in the common room any longer. It's a madhouse."

"Tell me about it," I muttered. "But where are George and Elena?"

"Probably snogging in a corner somewhere," he shrugged. I wrinkled my nose. "What? I thought you were all happy for them."

"I am all happy for them," I said. "I didn't spend all that time talking to George about Elena for nothing, after all. But the idea of two of my friends glued together by the lips is less than pleasant."

"Fair enough," he chuckled. Then, "Hey...could I ask you something?"

I waited several moments before nodding, wondering what he could possibly want to say.

"Why do you hang out with her?"

I frowned. "Who?"

"Elena. Is it common for Blacks to associate with American Muggleborns?"

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "I wouldn't really know. My mother isn't on speaking terms with her family."

"Why not?"

"She was disowned," I said wearily, opening my eyes again.

"How come? Did she wear the wrong color gown to a ball or something?"

I crossed my arms and turned so sharply that Athena hooted indignantly and flew back up to a perch.

"No," I snapped. "She ran away from home."

He looked stunned, but only for a moment. "Where'd she go? A rich relative took her in?"

"Try again," I suggested, narrowing my eyes. "She lived with a friend until she finished school. "

"And then what?" He was looking at me expectantly, seemingly genuinely curious.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked, glaring out the window. I didn't like talking about this, and I especially didn't want to talk about it with Fred Weasley.

"Well, there's not exactly anything better to do, is there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Look, I really don't want to talk right now. I'm going to go back to my common room."

I made to brush past him, but he caught my arm.

"You know why I can tolerate you, Summers?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Please tell me, I'm just dying to know."

"For all I know, you're filthy rich and have valuables hidden away somewhere. But you don't show off about it. You're like a normal person."

I raised an eyebrow. "...Thanks. But for what it's worth, I'm not filthy rich, and I don't really have any valuables."

"No? Your mum didn't take anything with her when she left?"

I sighed and wrenched my arm out of his grasp. "Shut up."

To my surprise, he did. I crossed the Owlery, heading for the stairs.

"What did your mother do?" he called out.

I froze in the doorway, my hand resting on the wall.

"What do you mean?"

"What'd she do after she left school?" he asked. "Where did she go?"

"I told you, I don't want to talk about this," I said, clenching my teeth.

"I'm just going to keep asking," he informed me, one side of his mouth hitching up in a smirk. "You'll have to answer sometime, if not now."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" I cried exasperatedly. "She got married! She married a Muggle!"

His grin faded right off his face. He was suddenly looking at me as though he'd never seen me before. I exhaled deeply, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Are you satisfied now?" I demanded. "I'm just as much of a blood-traitor as you are."

With that, I left, and he didn't stop me.

"George, you need to eat something," Elena urged, looking concerned. "Come on, anything. You can't play Quidditch with nothing in your stomach, you have to get your energy up."

It was the morning of the final Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The Quidditch Cup. The whole hall was buzzing with anticipation, except perhaps the Quidditch team. They all looked incredibly nervous. Oliver Wood, for example, had a full plate and had touched none of it, although he was urging his team to eat.

Elena sighed. "Oliver's right, George. You need to eat."

He grimaced and shook his head. He looked a bit like he was going to be sick. I sighed in exasperation and snatched up his empty plate, filled it with food, and set it in front of him again. He raised an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged. "You've done it for me enough times. Figured I could return the favor once. Now eat, because I have no qualms about holding you down so Elena can force-feed you."

"I'd help," said Fred, knocking his elbow against mine.

I glanced at him quickly. I hadn't spoken to him since the other day, and he hadn't said anything to me until now, although I occasionally caught him looking at me, opening his mouth as though about to say something, and then shaking his head.

I raised my eyebrow at George, who sighed dramatically and took a bite of his toast.

"Hey," Fred said, bumping my elbow again. "I got you something, since you're supporting Gryffindor today." He pressed a scarlet and gold rosette badge into my hand. "I figured you could use one of these."

I stared down at the badge, and back up at him.

"You don't have to wear it," he said quickly. "I just thought you might like it."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, I'll wear it. ...Thanks."

He nodded. As soon as Wood had decided that his team had eaten enough, he rushed them off to the Quidditch pitch. Elena kissed George on the cheek as he stood, and everyone (with the exception of the Slytherins) applauded as the Gryffindor Quidditch team left the Great Hall.

"They'll be fine, don't you think?" Elena said anxiously, looking a bit pale.

"They'll be more than fine," I assured her. "Come on, this is the best team you guys have had since Charlie played."

She nodded. We finished eating in silence and headed for the field with the rest of the school. Elena pulled Megan and I over to sit with the Gryffindors, finding seats just above where Lee Jordan was sitting with the magical megaphone used for commentating. Professor McGonagall was sitting next to him as always, probably so that she could take the megaphone from him if necessary. Nearby, Percy Weasley was sitting with Penelope, who smiled and waved when she saw me. I smiled back and was just considering going over to talk to her when the stadium erupted into deafening cheers. The Gryffindor team was making its way onto the field.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" Lee shouted. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years-"

I couldn't hear the rest of his sentence over the jeers coming from the Slytherin end of the stadium.

"And here come the Slytherin team," Lee continued, "led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill."

More booing from the Slytherins followed this statement, but I thought Lee had made a valid point. The whole team was huge, except for Malfoy.

Madam Hooch had Wood and Flint step forward and shake hands. I winced; they seemed to be trying to crush each other's fingers.

"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch called. "Three...two...one..."

I assumed that she'd blown her whistle, but I couldn't hear it over the cheering of the crowd.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no – Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field – WHAM! – nice Bludger work there by George Weasley-"

I couldn't help chuckling as Elena beamed proudly. Before I had time to say anything to her, however, Angelina Johnson scored, and Megan tried to burst my eardrum with her scream of delight.

"OUCH!"

Marcus Flint had gone crashing into Angelina, nearly throwing her from her broom. I rolled my eyes as he insisted that he hadn't seen her. Two seconds later, Fred chucked his Beater's club at Flint's head, causing him to smash his nose into the handle of his broom. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties. Alicia Spinnet scored for Gryffindor, making the score twenty-zero. We all turned to watch as Flint flew forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Oliver Wood's jaw clenched as hovered in front of the goal posts.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan assured the crowd. "Superb! Very difficult to pass – very difficult indeed – YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Wood gave a tiny smile as the crowd cheered, still focused on the game.

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession – no! – Gryffindor back in possession, and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field – THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

One of the Slytherin Chasers had swerved in front of Katie and grabbed her head instead of the Quaffle. She cartwheeled in the air, thankfully managing to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle sharply. Amid her shouting, I heard her award Gryffindor another penalty, which Katie flew forward to take.

"THIRTY-ZERO!" Lee howled in delight. "TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING – "

Professor McGonagall scolded him, but the Gryffindors around me roared their approval of his words.

It was, by far, the dirtiest game of Quidditch I had ever watched, and that was saying something, because I'd seen quite a few. The Slytherins completely abandoned the rules, using any means necessary to get hold of the Quaffle. Flint managed to score, and Lee swore so badly that McGonagall tried to take the megaphone away from. Beside me, Megan put her hands over her ears.

Gryffindor scored twice more, bringing the score to fifty-ten. Fred and George hovered around Katie Bell, who had scored the last goal, guarding her from any retaliation, which was a nice gesture...until the Slytherin Beaters took advantage of their absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood. They caught him in the stomach, one after the other, knocking the air out of him. I screamed as he rolled in midair, clutching his broom.

I'd never seen Madam Hooch so worked up. She looked ready to tear her hair out as she shrieked at the Slytherin Beaters, completely beside herself.

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA! Gryffindor penalty!"

Angelina scored. A moment later, Fred pelted a Bludger at Warrington, causing him to drop the Quaffle. Alicia grabbed it and scored. Seventy-ten.

"We're sixty points up!" Elena shouted over the cheers of the crowd. "If Harry catches the Snitch, we win!"

The words had no sooner left her mouth than Harry zoomed upward, his arm outstretched.

"No!" I cried as Malfoy seized the Firebolt's tail, pulling it back.

Lee shouted abuse into the megaphone, but for once, McGonagall didn't reprimand him. Her hat had fallen off as she shook her finger in Malfoy's direction, yelling at him even though he couldn't hear her.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she missed by several feet. Her face was red with anger as she soared away again. I groaned as Slytherin scored again. Malfoy had encouraged them with his foul on Harry, and the Gryffindors were losing concentration.

"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina!" Lee roared. "COME ON!"

"Look!" Megan shrieked, pointing at the Slytherin team. Every player, except for Malfoy, was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina.

"They're going to block her," I realized.

At the same time I came to this conclusion, Harry Potter bent low over the handle of his Firebolt and shot toward the Slytherins, scattering them everywhere and leaving Angelina free to score, which she did.

"Eighty-twenty!" Elena cried. She was biting her nails as she watched, literally on the edge of her seat.

At that moment, Malfoy dived, his hand stretched out as he zoomed toward a golden glimmer a few feet above the grass.

Harry followed, gaining on him. He was almost there...almost there...

"Yes!" I squealed as Harry pulled out of the dive, the Snitch clutched in his fist.

The stadium exploded into cheers as the Gryffindor team sank back to the ground in a midair group hug.

"Come on!" Elena cried, catching my wrist and pulling me down the field with her.

I lost her quickly among the crowd, but I heard her shout George's name and turned just in time to see her go flying into his open arms. I was pretty sure he kissed her, but I didn't see because just then, someone wrapped their arms around me from behind. A quick glance behind me told me that it was Fred.

"We won!" he shouted in my ear. "We won the Cup!"

"I know you did!" I laughed, caught up in the euphoria just as much as he was. "Congratulations!"

I made to pull away from him, but he held on for another fraction of a second.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in my ear. And then he was gone, lifted onto the shoulders of the crowd. I allowed myself a small smile as I followed them.