CHAPTER 8:
Flight of the Fat Lady
"There you go," said Ron. "We got as much as we could carry."
A shower of brilliantly colored sweets fell into Harry's lap. It was dusk, and Christina, Ron and Hermione had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind. Christina didn't feel guilty at all about looking as though they'd had the time of their lives. They did.
"Thanks," said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"
Despite Hermione's warning that they shouldn't divulge details about their time at Hogsmeade, it was Hermione herself who launched into a full rant about the day. Ron jumping in here and there to add more color, but neither mentioned what had happened with Fred and George.
"The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!"
"Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look —"
"We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks —"
"Wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up —"
"What did you do?" said Christina, still embittered about him rejected her help. "Did you get any work done, Harry?"
"No," said Harry. "Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in. Gave him some smoking goblet. He drank all of it."
Ron's mouth fell open.
"Lupin drank it?" he gasped. "Is he mad?"
"What's so bad about that?" Christina asks innocently.
Ron does a double take, "What's so-?! Snape has been after the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for years!"
"And I told him that!" Harry says, "I told him that some people would say Snape would do anything for that position."
Ron shakes his head, "And he still drank it. How daft can he be?"
Hermione checked her watch.
"We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes." They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape.
"But if he — you know —" Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around, "if he was trying to — to poison Lupin — he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry."
"Yeah, maybe," said Harry as they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.
While Ron and Hermione entered, Harry, just as Fred did before, held Christina back.
"Hey, listen – I just wanted to say sorry for—" Harry starts.
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I—"
She places a hand on his bicep, shaking him slightly, "Harry, seriously, it's okay! I was only mad cause of what you said reminded me of what Hermione said."
Harry sighs, he seemed to have feared this all along, "You have to know she didn't mean anything bad, she … er, well, she's really … rigid?"
Christina laughs, "Yeah, picked up on that."
"She hated Ron and I most of our first year." Harry admits. "Took us saving her from a troll before she actually could tolerate us."
Christina chuckles, "Maybe I should sick a troll on her, force her into need of rescue."
"Dunno if that's the best idea…"
Christina and Harry hugged, letting bygones be bygones and entered together to enjoy the feast.
The food was delicious; even Christina, Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything. Christina kept glancing at the staff table. Lupin looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Christina moved her eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was she imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering toward Lupin more often than was natural?
The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.
It had been such a pleasant day that Christina didn't even attempt to attack Malfoy, who shouted through the crowd as they all left the hall, "The Dementors send their love, Potter!"
Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.
"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ron curiously.
Christina peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed.
"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password — excuse me, I'm Head Boy —"
And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."
People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.
"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived.
A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was.
"Oh, my —" Hermione grabbed Christina's arm.
The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.
"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."
"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice. It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.
"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.
"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.
"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms.
"He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."
A silence fell among everyone around Christina and several eyes stared down Harry, mostly the teachers present. Christina looked over at Lupin who was looking particularly worried. Their eyes locked for a moment before Dumbledore made a sweeping declaration for the Gryffindors to return to the Great Hall.
They were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.
"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."
Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"
One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.
The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.
"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"
"C'mon," Ron said to Christina, Harry and Hermione; they seized four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.
"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Christina whispered anxiously.
"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Ron.
"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Hermione as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower…"
"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."
Hermione shuddered.
All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"
"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away, "Just appear out of thin air, you know."
"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year.
"He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.
"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" said Hermione crossly to Christina, Harry and Ron.
"Probably." said Ron.
Christina laughs, "Why?"
"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said Hermione. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered…"
"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"
The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars.
"Stay where you are, Fred! I see you squirming…" Christina peered up from her sleeping bag to see Fred was attempting to inchworm his way over to her. He instead blows her a kiss.
Christina blushes wildly.
What with that, and the whispering that still filled the hall, Christina felt as though she were sleeping outdoors in a light wind.
Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Christina watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.
"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Percy in a whisper.
"No. All well here?"
"Everything under control, sir."
"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."
"And the Fat Lady, sir?"
"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."
Christina heard the door of the hall creak open again, and more footsteps.
"Headmaster?" It was Snape. Christina kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."
"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"
"All searched…"
"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."
"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.
Christina raised her head very slightly off her arms to free her other ear.
"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."
Christina opened her eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore's back was to her, but she could see Percy's face, rapt with attention, and Snape's profile, which looked angry.
"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?" said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.
"I do, Severus," said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.
"It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —"
"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the Dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."
"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Percy.
"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."
Percy looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left.
Christina glanced sideways at Harry, Ron and Hermione. Each of them had their eyes open too, reflecting the starry ceiling.
"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed.
The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.
The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.
"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"
"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."
Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of Christina's worries. She was now being closely watched by Lupin. It seemed that everywhere she went, he made some kind of excuse to join her. Not that she particularly minded his company, but she felt like she was being treated like a child. Black was after Harry, not Christina. Though, Christina did feel terribly for Harry who had just about every teacher at the school walking along corridors with him. Percy Weasley (acting on his mother's orders) was tailing him everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. To cap it all, Professor McGonagall was now forcing Madam Hooch to watch their Quidditch practices who was more of a distraction than anything else.
The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Christina and the twins' private practices were coming in extremely handy considering Christina was powerless when it came to bad weather.
At their final training session before Saturday's match, Oliver Wood gave his team some unwelcome news.
"We're not playing Slytherin!" he told them, looking very angry. "Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."
"Why?" chorused the rest of the team.
"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured," said Wood, grinding his teeth furiously. "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances…"
There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, they heard a distant rumble of thunder.
"There's nothing wrong with Malfoy's arm!" said Harry furiously.
"He's faking it!" Christina shouted as well.
"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood bitterly, "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory —"
Angelina, Alicia, and Katie suddenly giggled.
"What?" said Wood, frowning at this lighthearted behavior.
"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" said Angelina. Christina let out a knowing, 'Ohh' while Katie swooned, "Strong and silent," said Katie, and they started to giggle again. Christina had seen Cedric Diggory before, Wood had pointed the entire Hufflepuff Quidditch team to Christina during dinner one Saturday after practice. He was a fifth year, around six feet tall and had truly one of the handsomest faces she had ever seen. Chiseled jawline, hair perfectly coiffed -
"He's only silent because he's too thick to string two words together," said Fred impatiently. "I don't know why you're worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"
"We were playing in completely different conditions!" Wood shouted, his eyes bulging slightly. "Diggory's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you'd take it like this! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!"
"Oliver, calm down!" said Fred, looking slightly alarmed. "We're taking Hufflepuff very seriously. Seriously." He winked at Christina. Her face quickly went red as she bit her lip, trying to concentrate back on the practice.
The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy.
"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed as the gale outside pounded the windows.
Christina had no room in her head to worry about anything except the match tomorrow. She kept checking in with Katie, Angelina and Alicia to make sure they were feeling well enough to play. Christina definitely overdid it, and had her head nearly bitten off by Angelina.
There was one bit of good news, which was that Lupin quickly stopped tailing Christina to classes. He had walked her to the Gryffindor common room one evening and told her he would leave her to her own devices for a few days. Christina assumed Lupin trusted her to be able to walk from point A to point B but when she went to her next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Professor Lupin was absent, and instead, replaced by Professor Snape.
Christina joins the classroom to see Harry too is absent. Christina sits down next to Hermione who seems relieved, "Oh good, you're here—"
"Why's Snape here?"
"I was just going to ask you the same, hasn't Professor Lupin been with you?"
"He told me he was going to stop doing that the other night …"
"Perhaps he's following Harry now…"
But by the time Professor Snape had started their lesson, Harry was still missing. Christina looked over to Ron for an answer, but he only shrugged.
Finally, after ten minutes, Harry bursts into the classroom, "Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin. I —"
Christina closed her eyes patiently, waiting for the sure to be epic scolding from Professor Snape.
"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."
But Harry didn't move.
"Where's Professor Lupin?" he said. "He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"
Christina shot Hermione a terrified look, then turned to Professor Snape, "He's ill?" She asked. Snape's black eyes glittered.
"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it were. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, Potter, it will be fifty."
Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.
"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —"
"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start —"
"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."
"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Christina didn't dare make a peep. Snape looked more menacing than ever.
"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you — I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss —"
Christina watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn't covered.
"— werewolves," said Snape.
"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start Hinkypunks —"
"Miss Granger," said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around again. "All of you! Now!"
With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.
"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.
Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air.
"Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between —"
"We told you," said Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on-"
"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…"
"Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf —"
"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."
"Hey!" Christina shouted, though she had no rebuttal.
Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"
The class knew instantly he'd gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.
"Detention, Weasley," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron's. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."
No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.
"Very poorly explained… That is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia… Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three…"
When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.
"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."
Christina, Harry and Hermione left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.
"Snape's never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job," Harry said to Hermione. "Why's he got it in for Lupin? D'you think this is all because of the Boggart?"
"I don't know," said Hermione pensively. "But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon…"
Ron caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage. "D'you know what that —" (he called Snape something that made Hermione say "Ron!")
"— is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"
The next morning, Christina woke up to the sound of torrential pouring and roaring thunder against the girls' dormitory windows. A particular clap of thunder had awoken the entire girls' dormitory, Hermione looked particularly disheveled as she murmured some final words of a dream she was having.
Christina quickly got dressed, realizing the time, and headed down for breakfast before her first ever Quidditch match. Harry was already there as well as all three of the chasers, each looking in perfect health. Christina let out a sigh of relief as she sat down, helping herself to some toast.
"Glad I'm not dead?" Katie asked. Christina laughed, "Definitely."
"I don't know why you're worried." Alicia said, sprinkling berried into her oatmeal. "You're quite good."
"Thanks to us, of course." Fred and George came in, together as always, and sat down at the table with them.
"Christina, perfect conditions, no?" George joked. Christina shook her head as Oliver Wood joined the table at last.
"It's going to be a tough one," said Wood, who wasn't eating anything.
"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."
But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns toward the Quidditch field, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went.
The team changed into their scarlet robes and waited for Wood's pre-match pep talk, but it didn't come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow him.
The wind was so strong that they staggered sideways as they walked out onto the field, Christina standing by the edge of the sand ring with the beater alternates, Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper.
If the crowd was cheering, they couldn't hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. Christina was grateful she'd be watching from the sidelines, despite the fact she was already drenched.
The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the field, wearing canary-yellow robes. The Captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Diggory smiled at Wood but Wood now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. Christina saw Madam Hooch's mouth form the words, "Mount Your brooms."
Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant — they were off.
Christina watched each member of both teams struggled against the wind and rain. No matter how good Diggory was, he too battled against the conditions. As Christina's teeth chattered on the sidelines, Christina felt especially venomous towards the Slytherin Quidditch team.
Within five minutes, Christina was soaked to her skin and frozen, hardly able to see her teammates. She caught glimpses of yellow and red robes but other than that? Not much. She couldn't even hear the commentary over the wind. The crowd was hidden beneath a sea of cloaks and battered umbrellas.
She lost track of time. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle; Christina could just see the outline of Wood through the thick rain, gesturing the rest of the team to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud except for Angelina Johnson.
"Where's Angelina?" Christina asked.
"She crashed into the stands, you didn't see?" Christina, Andrew and Jack all shook their heads. "That's why I called for a time-out. Christina, you're up."
"Jesus, alright."
Christina rushed back into the locker room to retrieve her broom, still trying to shake off the cold. Christina returns to the rest of the team who are huddled at the edge of the field under a large umbrella. Christina approaching Fred first, "You alright?" Christina asked Fred who nodded quickly, shaking his head dry like a dog.
Harry took off his glasses and wiped them hurriedly on his robes. Christina gave him a pitied pat on the back.
"What's the score?" Harry asked.
"We're fifty points up," said Wood, "but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night."
"I've got no chance with these on," Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses. At that very moment, Hermione appeared at his shoulder; she was holding her cloak over her head and was, inexplicably, beaming.
"I've had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!"
"Where did she come from…?" Christina muttered.
He handed them to her, and as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, "Impervius!"
"There!" she said, handing them back to Harry. "They'll repel water!"
Wood looked as though he could have kissed her.
"Brilliant!" he called hoarsely after her as she disappeared into the crowd. "Okay, team, let's go for it!"
The Gryffindor Quidditch team reentered the field and before Christina even realized it, the match had restarted. She rose fast, but her broom was swerving slightly with the wind. She held it as steady as she could and turned, squinting into the rain.
Christina quickly saw where the action was happening, Alicia and Katie were passing a Quaffle back and forth just by the Hufflepuff rings and Christina zoomed down to meet them, picking up any slack as she could. She was grateful for Alicia and Katie's skillfulness as they scored without her needing to intervene.
There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Christina prayed for Harry to get the Snitch quickly — just then, Diggory pelted past her, a tiny speck of gold shimmering in the rain-filled air –
"BATASKILL!" Instinctually, Christina dropped fifty feet, as for every time someone screamed her last name, it was that she was about to be pummeled by a Bludger. True to her instincts, a Bludger collided into the Ravenclaw stands, fifty feet above where she was.
Christina soars over to the Gryffindor goal posts, playing defense when the normal freezing rain had turned into a deep-set chill. Her inside felt frozen, a numbing sensation spread from the pit of her stomach out to her extremities.
Without warning, Fred and George both rush into her, brooms nearly colliding.
"What're you-?" But before Christina can finish the thought, the twins are pointing above them to at least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces targeting something above.
Christina watched all seven members of the Hufflepuff team reach the ground and counted the red robes around her.
Six.
"Harry-!" Without a moment's hesitation, Christina mounted her broom and flew at warp speed past the dementors, causing a few to break ranks and follow her above the clouds. It was there she saw one dementor praying on Harry, its hood only a few inches from Harry's face.
Before Christina had a chance to form a plan of attack, Harry slipped from his broom and began falling through the icy mist.
Christina pelted through the rain towards him, quickly grabbing him by the torso. She hadn't considered his weight and they both began dropping fast and forward to the Hufflepuff stands. Students and teachers darted out of their way as Christina and Harry perform a crash landing.
Christina opens her eyes to see both herself and Harry are still intact.
"Hey – hey, you okay?" Christina looks over at Harry who is unconscious, his face sheet white and body frigid to the touch.
"Out of my way-!"
Christina looked over to see Madam Pomfrey bustling through the crowd of Hufflepuff students. Upon arrival, Madam Pomfrey shoves Christina back, taking over as Harry's caretaker. Christina was surprised the students didn't seem to pay either of them much attention, but her query was soon answered when she noticed what they were all staring at. Behind them, Professor Dumbledore had reached the center of the Quidditch pitch, looking furious.
Christina stands and makes her way to the banister to watch Professor Dumbledore. He performs some sort of spell, wordlessly, because a silvery vapor spread out from his wand and sent the dementors flying off in every which director. If it weren't for the dementors, she would've thought it was beautiful.
While Christina was distracted by Dumbledore's feat, she missed Harry being magicked onto a stretcher and carried off back towards the castle.
Christina grabs her broom from the stands and sighs as she sees the end of her broomstick now splintering from the collision. Despite its rugged shape, she soars back down faultlessly to join the Quidditch teams who greet her with cheers.
"Are you mad!?" Fred exclaims.
"Is he okay?" Alicia asks.
"I can't believe you did that—" Wood high-fives her and now the Hufflepuff team joins them.
"Did Harry make it?" Heidi Macavoy, a chaser on the Hufflepuff team, asked.
"Are you okay?" Cedric Diggory asks. It's only then Christina notices what's in Diggory's hand – the golden snitch.
"We lost?" Christina whips around on Wood who looked positively morose. Diggory places a hand out in between then, "No—this isn't fair. I'm going to request a rematch from Madam Hooch."
"Diggory—" Wood starts.
"No, it's not right. I'm calling it off."
"When did you catch it, Ced?" Maxine O'Flaherty, Hufflepuff's Keeper, asked. Madam Hooch finally enters the two teams.
"Alright, captains here." She commands. Wood, still depressed, sulks his way to Madam Hooch's side, Diggory on her other.
"While I don't like the way this ended - and I'll be checking in on Potter later - Diggory caught the snitch, and the match has been called." Madam Hooch announced, though no one on the Hufflepuff team cheered, they seemed more ready to get out of the rain than anything.
"But, Madam—" Diggory started.
"Not another word Wood." Madam Hooch said, holding out a hand in front of Wood, he somehow looked even more miserable, "I didn't say anything…"
"Oh—" Hooch turned to Diggory, shocked, "Diggory-?"
"Please, can't we have a rematch?" He pleaded.
She scoffed at him, "Enough heroics, Diggory. You won fair and square. That's the end of it."
With Madam Hooch's verdict, the Hufflepuff team walked off towards their respective locker rooms while the Gryffindor team, two members down, looked at Wood who seemed ready to drown himself.
Fred and George pat a hand on Wood's shoulders, before wordlessly heading to the showers. Even Hooch gave a short, "Sorry, Wood," before heading off as well.