The Gryffindor–Hufflepuff Quidditch match was a subdued affair. The mood was especially dampened by teachers searching Muggle-born students for weapons as they entered the stands. Below, Anna fidgeted on the bench and said, "Today would be the perfect day for a half-blood to go on a murder spree while they worry about guns and knives. I'm tempted to try it, just to show them."
Otto, who sat at a respectful distance, snorted with laughter, but he saw something stiff in her face and stopped short. "You don't mean that," he confirmed, setting his broom down. She hesitated. "Do you?"
"Oh, Otto, of course not! I couldn't kill anyone. I don't believe anyone else could either."
"That Hänschen Rilow always had a shifty look," he offered. She tried to smile but was overcome with crying.
Oh, dear. The rest of the team was making faces at the Hufflepuff players across the pitch. Otto had never been much for lip-reading, but the words Georg and his team were shouting back looked suspiciously rude. Regardless, no one on the pitch was worried about a Gryffindor Beater dissolving into tears, and the spectators above were paying more attention to the murderer. It was up to him. God help him.
He scooted closer. "No one's going to get hurt today."
She wiped her eyes. "That isn't what worries me. I feel so sorry for poor Moritz—I'm not sorry for Martha's father, she always said he was horrid," she added. "But what about us? Poor Ernst doesn't even want to go to class anymore. And what happens when they run out of Muggle-borns to bother? They'll go after the half-bloods next."
"I won't let them go after you," he said hotly, moving another inch nearer. She buried her face in his shoulder, and his eyes widened. Experimentally, he put his arm around her. She didn't recoil. Otto hovered somewhere between a burst of confidence and the deepening conviction he was about to wake up.
The referee took to the air, and the team left the Hufflepuffs alone to get their brooms. Otto tapped Anna on the shoulder. "We still have to play Quidditch," he said, more than a little regretful.
She shrugged wistfully, then said, "You're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" He nodded. "Take me to lunch. I need something to lift my spirits." His jaw dropped, and he nearly forgot to agree in his absolute shock.
He helped Anna onto her broom before kicking off himself. At the opposite goal, Georg had almost finished swearing his blue streak at the Gryffindors. Otto waved to get his attention. "BIG. NEWS."