Disclaimer: See previous chapters.

Summary: Likewise

Chapter Twelve

In the wake of the attack on the Gryffindor Boy's dorms, and the ensuring chaos, Roisin and Mary had managed to use several secret passages in order to get back to the Slytherin Dungeons. Like the Gryffindors, however, they didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

Roisin was not as worried about being attacked again (the Slytherin Common Room had a two-foot-thick wall guarding the entrance, as opposed to an unhinged painting), so much as Desdemona had set an alert for her return, dragged the details out of her, then woken the other two and invaded the Boy's Dorm to tell them what had taken place, which resulted in another round of questions.

The rumour mill was working overtime, and by only a few hours after breakfast, everyone knew what was going on, and security was tighter than ever. The Fat Lady had been restored, and now had backup in the form of a round dozen security trolls. Professor Flitwick could be seen charming the doors to recognize a large photo of Sirius Black, while Filch was boarding up everything from the Ground-Floor windows to the smallest mouse-hole.

Ron Weasley had become an instant celebrity (much to Harry's relief, as it took the focus off of him), and was clearly enjoying the attention. While he was still shaken by the event, and jumped slightly at sudden noises, that didn't stop him from telling and re-telling the story in great detail to anyone who would ask or listen.

As one of the few Slytherins on speaking terms with the Gryffindors, Roisin had been volunteered to get the finer details out of him, and was now standing with a group of second-years as Ron told the story for what had to be the hundredth time. Personally, Roisin wondered that he hadn't become sick of reciting the whole thing by now.

"…I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dreams, you know? But then there was this draught… I woke up, and the hangings on one side of my bed had been pulled down, ripped to shreds… I rolled over… and I saw him standing over me… like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair… holding this great long knife. It must have been twelve inches… and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he scarpered."

Credit where it was due, Roisin had to admit that Ron made a good storyteller. The second-years departed, whispering to each other (probably forming yet another conspiracy theory) and Ron turned to Harry, who had been standing next to Roisin. "Why, though? Why did he scarper?"

Roisin shrugged. "Most of Gryffindor Tower came running when you screamed, and McGonagall came rushing in, like, two minutes later. If he stuck around to kill you, he would have had to fight his way back out, and a knife isn't much use against fifty-plus wands, even if they are in the hands of students."

Harry agreed. "He must have known he'd have a job getting back out, once you screamed and woke everybody up. He'd have had to fight the whole house to get back out again – and then he'd have met the teachers…"

Ron might have been popular, but Neville Longbottom was in total disgrace. Everyone was walking on eggshells around Professor McGonagall, who was still livid, even after giving Neville detention, banning him from all future Hogsmeade visits, and forbidding anyone to give him the password to Gryffindor Tower. Given that this meant that Neville was forced to wait outside every night while the trolls leered at him, and the Howler that arrived from his Grandmother at breakfast two days later, shrieking about how he had brought shame on the entire family, Roisin was almost sympathetic.

Then again, Neville's mistakes had resulted in letting a mass-murderer get into the castle, so it was a bit hard to really feel sorry for him.

Two days after the Howler, Roisin was trying to find a brief reprieve from the excess paranoia, and monopolized Harry for a walk during a rare sunny day, reasoning that it was too nice a day to be sitting inside, no matted how fascination it might be to hear the latest how-Black-got-in theory or Ron's latest re-telling of the tale.

After a few minutes enjoying the sunshine, Roisin glanced at her cousin. "You seem unusually pensive. Is something wrong?"

Harry sighed. "I just came back from visiting Hagrid. You know how that Hippogriff is supposed to be executed for attacking a student? Hagrid was telling us about how Hermione was helping him set up a defense for it."

Roisin was of two minds about that. Draco should have listened when Hagrid was explaining the Do's and Don'ts of Hippogriffs, but she didn't think that such animals were a good idea for a first lesson, especially as they were rated XXXX on the danger scale. "Interesting, but not really enough to put you in this kind of a mood. What else?"

Harry gave her a wry look and a small smile. "Hagrid mentioned that Hermione had been coming down to talk with him a lot, and that she had seemed very lonely since Christmas. He said that Ron and I should have valued our friend more than a rat or a broomstick."

That would do it. Harry was intensely loyal to those he considered friends, and the conversation with Hagrid must have fallen into the category of Guilt-Trips. "I don't think it's quite so much valuing friendship as it is the friendship itself. Hermione may have meant well, but she still shouldn't have gone behind your back like she did, or at least apologized for her actions. I'm guessing that you would have taken it for a test-flight as soon as possible, with Madam Hooch, and that would have easily shown if the thing was cursed or not."

Harry sat down on one of the small benches that lay scattered around the courtyard. "Yeah. I know that Hermione was just trying to be helpful, but I was upset that she didn't give me a chance to come up with something before she went and had it confiscated. I don't want to choose in the situation with Scabbers, but Hermione was complaining about Ron jumping to conclusions and demanded to know what I thought, then jumped up and ran off before I could say anything past that things did look that way."

Roisin gave her cousin an amused look and a raised eyebrow. Harry shot her a grin in response. "Despite popular opinion, I have learned my lessons about how just because the evidence points to something, doesn't make it true. Crookshanks might have eaten Scabbers, but so could Mrs. Norris. Besides, Scabbers was in the Weasley family for years. Ron may have complained about him, but he does have reason to be upset. Hermione could at least show some sympathy, rather than only defending her cat."

Roisin might have respected Hermione, but she did feel that Harry had the better argument. There was no solid evidence that Crookshanks had eaten the rat, but nor was there solid evidence that he hadn't. Roisin was about to reply when she spotted Desdemona bouncing down the hall in search of her.

Desdemona didn't care about House Barriers as far as Family ties went, and never commented on her friendship with Harry, but she was like an unstoppable force when she wanted something, and it was far better to just go with it, in most cases. Roisin gave Harry an apologetic smile. "Looks like I'm about to be dragged off. I'll see you later, but good luck sorting things out."

Harry was visibly amused at her plight when Desdemona started to pull her away. "Thanks Roisin. I'll see you later."

That Saturday was a Hogsmeade Weekend, but Roisin had elected not to go, partially in favour of going over the Animagus project again. She was also staying behind partially because Blaise was in the hospital wing with a cold, partially because Desdemona was loose while on a sugar-high, and largely because the outside conditions could only be described as 'Slush'.

She was taking advantage of the deserted Common Room to practice the charm for 'revealing the animal within' when Draco and his sidekicks burst in at a dead run, pale and shaking. Picking herself up from where Vince's bulk had knocked her flying, Roisin cast a worried look at a nearby potted plant (a crab-apple bonsai that was suddenly scurrying about on six roots) and glared at her classmates. "Would one of you care to explain what that was about?"

The trio must have been more shaken than they seemed, as they didn't even wince at Roisin's Death Glare, which had once been likened to that of a Basilisk, (once and never again, as Roisin had not appreciated the reminder of being petrified.) as they tried to relay a very disjointed version of events. "Hogsmeade… head floating in mid-air… sticks and mud flying without magic or anyone throwing them…"

Needless to say, Roisin took this with a grain of salt. The Wizarding World may have been fantastic, but there were still limits. "Are you sure you didn't just get the wrong drink at the Three Broomsticks? Pull yourselves together and go annoy Professor Snape about it."

Draco looked indignant. "Don't you even care about my trauma? You should be finding a way to fix this!"

His indignation had calmed him down enough that Roisin's Death Glare had more effect this time. Draco instantly hid behind Greg as Roisin hissed at him. "I'm busy, and don't you dare talk to me as though I'm some kind of servant, Draco. Go find someone else to whine to."

It was rare that a Slytherin spoke back to Draco (The other Houses, Gryffindors in particular, did it all the time), but Roisin had never been the average Slytherin. Furthermore, her exposure to the Wizarding world was limited to Hogwarts and the O'Conner Keep in Ireland, so she was less intimidated by Lucius Malfoy's wealth and influence than most. Recovering from the shock of having the relatively quiet girl snap at him, Draco tried to protest again. "But I saw your cousin's head floating in mid-air…"

Roisin rolled her eyes, picking up her wand and returning to the table that held her books. Draco really was impossible at times. "Have Daddy buy you a therapist, if you're that traumatized, and see if they can't do something about your attitude while they're at it. I won't say it again: Go. Tell. Someone. Else."

Draco, Greg and Vince quickly left, presumably to find Professor Snape. Roisin shook her head. Seamus had been visiting Mary in the Common Room until five minutes before the trio had entered, when they had declared Roisin 'boring' and left for Gryffindor Tower, and Harry had been unable to get his permission form signed. The waitress at the Three Broomsticks had probably just given them ButterRum, very similar to Butterbeer in both name and appearance, by mistake.

Shaking her head, Roisin went back to the Animagus charms, looking up the wand motions for the Charm to link the animal spirit to the human form.

Professor Hagrid appeared very upset during the next Third-Year Care of Magical Creatures class. Roisin had discovered the cause by questioning Mary, who asked Seamus, who heard from Lavender Brown, who shared a dorm with Hermione, who had been helping Hagrid prepare the defence for the Hippogriff who had attacked Draco.

Apparently, the defence for the trial and later appeal had not been a success, and the Hippogriff, Buckbeak, was scheduled for execution right after exams. Roisin was sympathetic to the teacher's distress, but there was nothing she could do about it. Seeing Draco making a beeline for the newly-reunited Gryffindor trio, Roisin checked her watch and picked up her pace.

Draco had been in a bad mood ever since he had returned from telling Professor Snape about the Hogsmeade incident and been pinched by the crab/bonsai crab-apple, which meant that hewould be looking for someone to takeit out on, and the Care of Magical Creatures field was a significant distance from the Charms Classroom.

The despondent mood caused by the gloomy weather was quickly dispersed upon the discovery that they were covering Cheering Charms. Most of the first few attempts resulted in little more than a slight giggle, but they soon picked it up.

No one was quite sure how well Cheering Charms worked on Desdemona, as it took very little to make the girl laugh, so the next several tries didn't count. Four tries later, when Theo's attempt managed to crack Roisin's usual reserve and make her dissolve into peals of laughter, they counted it a success.

Safely recovering while her friends had a small debate over who would be stuck with Greg and Vince, Roisin took a glance around and noticed Hermione's absence, illustrated by Theo being the first one to cast a proper charm. She shrugged it off, trying to imagine a stormy, thoroughly miserable day as a method to calm down.

It worked, and Roisin hopped up to partner with Pansy. The blonde girl had been brushing up on her 'ladylike' mannerisms lately, so Roisin's goal was to make Pansy burst into Unladylike cackles.

In all fairness, Roisin should have expected it.

The third years had just learned about Cheering Charms that morning, and were convinced that the charm worked on anyone. Still feeling a bit giddy, the forty-five minutes of lunch was not enough time for them to think better of their course of action, and at least five people cast a Cheering Charm at Professor Snape the instant he walked through the door.

Either Professor Snape had some kind of natural resistance (not out of the realm of possibility) or he had been of the receiving end of enough Cheering Charms to build up immunity to them (also not out of the realm of possibility). Whatever the reason, it didn't work.

Ducking under her desk, Roisin just managed to avoid a stray charm, but at least it gave her an excuse for her uncontrollable giggling when the stern Potions Master started handing out Detentions.

Plans for brewing the Animagus potion over the Easter Holidays were put on hold, as the Third Years were loaded down with an unprecedented amount of homework and short-term project, all due in the first day back. It was enough to make Roisin wonder if they even had an Easter Break that year, and the Teachers hadn't simply been merciful enough to not drag them out of the Common Room or Library for a week.

The day before they returned to classes, Greg had been foolish enough to ask when the Easter Holidays started. Immersed in a particularly difficult Arithmancy Essay, Roisin could barely spare the energy to glare at him. Millicent, not quite so engrossed in a Transfiguration Assignment, threw a crumpled up piece of parchment at him. Theo looked up from researching the uses of Poinsettia long enough to throw a hex at him.

In all fairness, Draco had it the worst. Slytherin were facing Gryffindor for the Quidditch Cup, and Wood and Flint were tied in the contest of Who Could Be The Most Fanatical, dragging their players onto the pitch for hours every day, regardless of the weather or alternate obligations.

Greg, Vince, Roisin and Pansy had formed a habit of taking dinner out to the Slytherin Team on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, when they had the pitch for the afternoon, and breakfast on the other four days, where they practiced from 5 a.m. until noon, when the Gryffindor Team arrived to kick them off and take over the pitch.

Off the pitch, tension between the two houses was worse than ever. The Quidditch Teams themselves had the worst time of it, barely able to leave the Common Room without someone trying to Hex or trip them, with their House-Mates surrounding them like a sort of bodyguard, but things didn't stop there.

Scuffles and mini-duels seemed to break out every five minutes whenever different houses were within cursing distance of each other, finally escalating to the point where a Gryffindor Fourth-Year and a Slytherin Sixth-Year wound up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

At that point, Professors Snape and McGonagall intervened, threatening to cancel the match all together if the hostilities continued. Hostilities died down, but only to the point where the two Houses only tried to trip or 'bump into' each other when teachers were absent. Even Seamus and Mary were sniping at each other.

It was therefore unsurprising, though still unpleasant, when Flint marched into the Common Room the day before the Quidditch Final and informed them that the entire House would be attending the match, whether they liked it or not. Given that Bole and Derrick were flanking him and holding beater bats, not even the worst of the non-Quidditch-enthused dared to protest.

The day of the match dawned crisp and clear. Slytherin House, all one hundred and ninety-two of them (excluding the Quidditch team themselves) had been forced at not-quite-wand-point into all the green clothing they owned. Even Professor Snape had foregone his usual black robes in favor of Forest-green.

According to Blaise, who had been woken up at by Draco at four in the morning and was on the verge of dozing off in his porridge, it had taken a force-fed mild sedative to make him sleep at all. Roisin changed the milk jug into a pillow and nodded sympathetically as she tried to force Draco, who was paler than usual, to eat something before he collapsed.

The Quidditch stands were a sight in themselves, even with the actual teams still in their locker rooms. Three quarters of the school were dressed in red and gold, waving flags and banners promoting Gryffindor. The Slytherin stands were a solid mass of green, with Professor Snape abandoning the Staff Section to sit with his house.

The anticipation was so high that no one dared to speak above a whisper, and it seemed as though they had been sitting there for hours. Then the Quidditch Teams flew onto the pitch, and the stands exploded with enough noise to be conceivably mistaken as a bomb going off.

After a brief handshake, which seemed more an attempt by Wood and Flint to break each others fingers, Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air, and the players took off.

Roisin generally tuned out the student commentary, largely because Lee Jordan was very biased in favor of Gryffindor, and it was either tune him out or hex him, and focused on what the players were doing.

The Quaffle had been instantly taken by Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor, and then intercepted by Warrington of Slytherin, who was hit by a bludger and dropped the Quaffle, which was caught by Angelina Johnson. The Gryffindor chaser dodged Montague and a bludger to fake out Bletchley and score the first goal of the match.

She was doing a victory lap of the pitch when Flint slammed into her in what he claimed was an accident. Less than a minute later, one of the Weasley twins threw their beater bat at Flint's head in response. In the stands, Roisin rolled her eyes and exchanged a long look with Millicent as Madam Hooch shouted at the two boys and awarded both teams a penalty. It looked like it was going to be one of those games, again.

Alicia Spinnet took the penalty and managed to score, while Wood pulled off an impressive save, blocking Flint's shot. The game resumed, with neither team scoring until Montague grabbed Katie's head instead of the Quaffle, resulting in another penalty and another ten points to Gryffindor.

Scanning the pitch for Harry, Roisin saw him suddenly accelerate toward the Slytherin Goalposts, with Draco swiftly following. Given that Gryffindor would have to win by over two hundred points (Draco had gone over that three times when he had been giving himself a pep-talk the previous night) and Gryffindor only had thirty points, Roisin decided that it was probably a feint.

Whether it was a feint or not was quickly rendered moot as Bole and Derrick instantly closed in on Harry, bludgers narrowly missing the Gryffindor's head. The move would have worked to take Harry out of the game, had he not pushed the firebolt up at its full speed at the last second, causing the Slytherin Beaters to collide with a nasty-sounding crunch.

Angelina took the Quaffle again, but Flint pulled off a surprisingly clean steal, and knocked it out of her arms. With the other Gryffindor players badly out of position, he had a nearly unchallenged flight to the goals, where Oliver Wood just barely missed a save, scoring Slytherin's first goal of the match.

It was turning into the dirtiest match Roisin had ever seen (which wasn't that many, but the sentiment remained). The Slytherin team was resorting to any means to grab the Quaffle, with the Gryffindor team responding in equal violence.

Bole hit one of the chasers with his bat and tried to claim that she was a bludger. A Weasley twin elbowed him in the face in retaliation. Katie scored again, and the Slytherin beaters took advantage of the Weasley Twins' absence (they were guarding Katie from potential retaliation) to hit both bludgers at Wood, nearly knocking him off his broom.

Gryffindor scored twice more, putting them sixty points in the lead. Twenty seconds later, Harry went rocketed upward toward a glimmer of gold, only to be stopped as Draco grabbed onto the Firebolt's tail, slowing Harry down enough that the snitch had time to disappear.

Without enough room to throw up her hands in disgust and despair, Roisin settled for rolling her eyes yet again and sitting back, hoping that the match would be over before someone required an extensive stay in the hospital wing.

Slytherin had scored once more; bringing the score to Seventy-Twenty, Gryffindor, and Angelina was racing for the Slytherin goals, every Slytherin except Draco racing to stop her. Harry, who had been marking Draco so closely that they kept bumping into each other, shot toward the blockade a second before Draco went into a steep dive.

The Slytherin line scattered, and several Fifth-Year Slytherins dove out of the way as Harry nearly flew into the stands, before turning sharply at an anguished yell from Wood. Seeing Draco diving for the snitch, Harry opened the Firebolt to its full power, closing the vast distance between the two seekers.

At first, it seemed like he would never make it, and that Slytherin would take the cup again, but the Firebolt slowly closed the distance, bringing Harry neck-to-neck with Draco. The crowd had gone utterly silent, and Roisin was probably to only one to notice Theo turning blue from Desdemona's hold on him.

The two seekers were only meters from hitting the pitch when Harry threw himself forward, nearly out-flying his broom as he knocked Draco's arm out of the way and pulled back up, soaring into the air with one arm raised above his head. Seconds later, the rest of the Gryffindor team collided with him, sinking down to the pitch in a tangle of cheering, sobbing bodies.

Listening to the other three Houses scream with joy, her own House's yells of disbelief and dismay, and the cheering on the pitch itself, Roisin sighed in disappointment and started to make her way back to the castle. It promised to be a night filled with furious rants and Roisin braced herself to be counted among the many not-entirely-willing sympathetic ears.

Slytherin/Gryffindor Quidditch matches always were.

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A/N: Another chapter is up! *Cheers*. This one is dedicated to 'Lazy', for their very helpful and constructive review on the last chapter.

As always, Constructive Criticism is very much appreciated, while flames are laughed at and used to toast marshmallows.

Thanks, Nat.