It was if the spirit of Christmas was killed during that very moment. James loved his broomstick. He only had it for a few months, but it represented much more to him than the tool used to beat Hufflepuff. His dad paid for it with his own money, and he knew that it was a present that he was lucky to have obtained. To see the Nimbus Three Thousand snapped in half made it feel like everything Harry had done for him was all for nothing.
"James…" Bella spoke softly.
"Whoever it is who did this, damn you" James screamed at the top of his lungs.
A short while later, some of the older students started coming down from their dormitories. They were either opening their presents in their beds, or decided to have a lie in, but when Sebastian and Patricia both came down, their anger was immediately evident.
"Who did this?" Patricia asked quietly, but sternly.
"Take a guess" replied James.
"The Traitor of Gryffindor" muttered Patricia.
"Jackson Lestrange will pay for this" vowed Sebastian.
"Jackson Lestrange isn't even here" Bella argued. "How could he have possibly have done this."
"I don't know" said Sebastian.
"Is there truly no way to repair it?" asked James painfully.
"We can repair the broom's structure using Repairo" answered Patricia, in a more comforting tone than James was used to. "But using it won't fix its ability to fly."
"Ok" James wept slightly.
He knew before he asked the question that it was hopeless. When his father's first broom landed in the Whomping Willow, it was left in an irreparable state. It was foolish to believe that his own broom could be salvaged at all.
"Why are they still doing this?" bellowed Aoiffe. "Haven't they gotten bored yet?"
"I'm writing to Benedict" Patricia declared. "Maybe he can finally tell us who did this."
James did not enjoy the rest of Christmas at all. So what if Benedict has actually figured out who the Traitor of Gryffindor is; it wasn't going to get his broom back. The rest of the holidays seemed to go by like a slog. James lacked the energy to do anything. He had a lot of sympathy from people heard about what had happened, but not much in terms of solutions. The only thing that interested James at the moment was a potential reply from Benedict, but even until the last day of the holidays, he did not write back to Patricia.
"What's taking him so long?" James growled during the breakfast that the students who left Hogwarts for the holidays were due back. "Whoever did this to my Nimbus is going to pay."
"Well the person who poisoned Bella, took the dream-o-graphs and wrecked the Transfiguration class hasn't been caught yet, so I wouldn't get your hopes up" said Darren.
James was about to eat some more of his toast, when he noticed one of the boys from the Ravenclaw table wave at him, before leaving his seat and made his way to him. Upon further examination, James recognised that it was the chaser known as Dexter.
"James Potter" he squeaked.
"What is it Dexter?" asked James.
"McLaren wants to speak with you in private" replied Dexter.
"What?" gasped James.
"She wants to meet with you on the quiditch pitch during our training" explained Dexter. "She told me to tell you she wants to…"
"Meet with me in private" James murmured, his heart suddenly racing. "Ok Dexter, tell her I'll be down there."
Dexter nodded, then shuffled his way back to the Ravenclaw table.
"Somebody feels happier, now they're meeting their crush" teased Darren.
"Shut up" muttered James.
Benedict and Jackson weren't due back until late into the evening, so James spent the remaining hours waiting impatiently for his meeting with McLaren.
"When you go there, make sure you pay special attention to how the rest of the Ravenclaws are playing" instructed Patricia. "We can use this visit as a strategic advantage."
After hours of James playing with his new wizards' chess set, he saw some activity out of the window. Some small figures were flying around the quiditch pitch.
"It's time" James said. "Wish me luck."
"Reckon you're going to catch a hot one" teased Aoiffe.
"I don't know what to think" James replied in a flummox. "She must have called me out for a reason."
He left the common room, and made his way to the quiditch pitch. His stomach felt very weird again, but it felt ever more awkward the more convinced he was that McLaren might actually like him back.
As he entered the quiditch grounds, he realised that Patricia had almost nothing to worry about. The Ravenclaw chasers were aimlessly passing the Quaffle to one another without any semblance of strategy, the keeper was on his own drowsing off by his hoops, and the beaters were just rebounding a Bludger off a post planted firmly in the ground.
McLaren herself wasn't even flying at all. She was sitting down on the grass reading a book titled The Basic Skills of Living Like a Muggle by Justin Finch-Fletchley.
"Hi James" McLaren greeted him, closing the book. "I'm turning seventeen over summer, and I'm going to be moving out."
"You're living close to muggles?" James asked, pointing at the book.
"Oh yes, but it's also good for my racing career" McLaren explained. "The next time someone compares me to a Barbie Doll, I want to know what one actually is."
"Good for you" James replied shyly. "If you don't mind me asking, why did you want to see me?"
"Listen in girls James; we don't like to be rushed" remarked McLaren.
"Oh really… I mean I'm sorry" James apologised in a flustered manner.
"I'm just teasing you" McLaren giggled. "Surly you'd know that of all girls, I love to be rushed. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about your Nimbus Three Thousand."
"Oh…" James muttered.
"To tell you the truth James, the main reason why I sent my broomstick for maintenance was to give you a chance" explained McLaren. "With my Firebolt, the moment I spot the Snitch, I catch it within a second. You're young and inexperienced at Quiditch, I didn't want you to lose that badly to me, so I thought I'd give you a chance."
"Thank you" James said nervously, his brain trying to predict what might come next.
"When the Traitor of Gryffindor destroyed your own broom, I was furious" McLaren continued. "A person and their broom is inseparable; it was like they killed a family member by snapping it in half."
"I agree" James said bitterly.
"So I decided that I was going to do something about it" McLaren declared. "I'm not goin to allow the Traitor of Gryffindor to do as he pleases. I've placed an order for a brand new Nimbus Three Thousand."
"What?" James gasped.
"Don't worry about the price" McLaren told him. "I've been given so much money in sponsorship, I can pay for like fifty Malfoy Manors."
"I don't know what to say" James said tearfully.
"That might be a good thing for now" said McLaren. "If I were you, I'd keep all this to yourself until the day of the match. I'll keep hold of the Nimbus for you until then."
"May I ask what broomstick you're planning on using?" asked James.
"A Muggle Jet Twelve" McLaren answered unenthusiastically. "It's the best broom Montague owns, but by seekers' standards, it's terrible."
"Oh…" James muttered.
"It does mean you should easily beat me" McLaren giggled.
"I'll do my best" James said awkwardly.
"You are cute when you're nervous James" McLaren mentioned.
"Sorry?" gasped James.
"I said you're cute when you're nervous" McLaren repeated. "But I'd like you more if you were more confident."
"Ah… ok… um… I mean" James stumbled over his words.
"It's ok" McLaren smiled. "At least I know you're authentic. Just make sure you give it your absolute best when our match comes up."
"Will do" James shouted, trying to evoke as much confidence as he could.
He left the quiditch pitch with more butterflies in his stomach than when he entered. It wasn't just the fact that he liked McLaren, but the hints that McLaren might like him back. He was so alive in his own world, that he accidentally walked into the Fat Lady's portrait. Fortunately it opened up for Tulip shortly afterwards, so the Fat Lady couldn't make any snooty remarks at James' expense.
"Someone looks a little red" Darren grinned, as James sat at his usual seat.
"It went well" James replied.
"How were the Ravenclaw's training?" demanded Patricia.
"What… oh, they were fine I guess" James muttered. "The chasers were just passing to one another, and the beaters were just battering a plank of wood over and over again."
"Not a very good use of time" Patricia concluded. "What did she even want you for then?"
James remembered McLaren telling him to keep the Nimbus Three Thousand she bought for him a secret. However if he didn't say that his replacement broom was sorted, then he knew that Sebastian and especially Patricia would just hound on him nonstop.
"She wanted to help me sort out getting a replacement for the broomstick the Traitor of Gryffindor destroyed" James gave his answer.
"Very noble of the Ravenclaw captain" declared a familiar voice from just behind Patricia.
James looked passed her, and saw that during the time that he was gone talking to McLaren; Benedict Falcon had returned to Hogwarts.
"Benedict you're back" James said graciously.
"I know exactly what you're thinking" said Benedict. "Patricia and Sebastian had filled me in with all the details of what happened over Christmas. I'm very sorry about your Nimbus."
"Have you worked out who the Traitor of Gryffindor is?" asked James.
Benedict opened his mouth to answer, but before any sound came out, the door to the boys' dormitories slammed open, and Jackson Lestrange ran out carrying a letter.
"It's for you" he panted, handing the letter over to Benedict.
Benedict frowned, but opened the envelope.
"Dear Benedict Falcon" he read out. "You believe that you know who I am, and are trying to prove it. Your efforts are utterly wasted, and as such you will be punished severely. You will make a public announcement to resign from the Gryffindor Quiditch Team, or else a student will be punished tonight."
"Not again" moaned Bella.
"Can the Traitor of Gryffindor just admit who they are now?" moaned Sebastian.
"It appears that you overestimate your convictions" Benedict said firmly.
He stood up from his seat, looking more serious than James had seen him.
"You sent me this letter because you are scared about me discovering who you really are" he continued sternly. "You hope that by threatening me, you can continue to dwell in secret. However unfortunately for you, I have found out about you over the holidays."
"Who is he?" demanded Patricia impatiently.
"A lesser man would answer that question" Benedict went on. "But I am going to give you one final chance. If you go through on your threat, then I will tell everyone in the school who you are. And to prove I'm not bluffing, I know what you did to Michael."
"What are you talking about?" demanded Cameron Corner.
"You'll find out if anything happens to anyone" replied Benedict confidently. "Now, I'm in the mood for a cup of tea."
"Do you really think he knows?" asked Bella.
"We'll find out tomorrow" answered Darren. "If the Traitor of Gryffindor doesn't do anything, then he may have struck a nerve."
"There's nothing to worry about" declared Sebastian. "I'm going to write to that orphanage Jackson came from to find out what he did to this Michael fellow."
James went to bed with a lot of suspense. The tension on what the Traitor of Gryffindor would do made him struggle to get any sleep; not helped by Jackson's snoring. At seven o'clock, James was the first out of bed and dashed downstairs, but not because he was ready to start the new term. He got dressed and ran down the stairs, where he was greeted by a few of the other student, who were all gathered round the noticeboard.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"The Traitor of Gryffindor has replied back" answered Violet.
James barged his way to the front of the crowd, annoying some of the older students in the first place. As Violet had said, there was a letter posted that was written in the same handwriting as the others; however this one wasn't signed, and only had two words on it. DAMN YOU.
The response was the topic of choice during the first day of the Easter Term, to the point that it annoyed all of James' teachers.
"What does this mean though?" asked Bella after they finished their last lesson of the day.
"I think Benedict really got underneath their skin" replied James. "Who this Michael is, and what was done to him; I don't think the culprit wants it getting out."
James and his fellow first years all returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, where they continued their theories as to what Benedict had worked out. Some of them tried pestering him into telling them what he figured out.
"At the moment, the Traitor of Gryffindor has a reason to not cause any more harm" he would always reply to them. "If I just reveal who it is, then they can go back to making havoc again."
James was slightly annoyed that the identity of the Traitor of Gryffindor remains a mystery; but he also had to accept that despite the threat, by seven o'clock that evening, none of the Gryffindor students had been harmed in any way.
There were many things Silverstone McLaren liked about being Ravenclaw's quiditch captain. She liked the power she had over her team, she liked the sense of authority she suddenly possessed, but perhaps her favourite thing about it was that she now had access to the Prefects' Bathroom. It was a large room with a bath the size of a swimming pool; McLaren couldn't think of anything more relaxing after a school day than taking a nice, long bubble bath.
Today she had retired to the Prefects' Bathroom almost immediately after her conversation with James Potter. She had some Muggle Studies homework that needed doing, and considering that she was about to move out to live on her own in Monte Carlo, she thought it best to concentrate on the subject even more than ever.
"If you were stuck in a muggle town, and you suddenly required medical attention, what kind of shop would you go to" McLaren read the question out. "A library, a chemist, a DIY store or a nuclear power plant."
McLaren knew the answer wasn't a library, but pondered on what the other buildings actually were. She eventually circled nuclear power plant but was unsure on whether it was the right answer. All of McLaren's books, quills and parchments had waterproof spells put on them, allowing her to do her homework in the bath itself. It was far more peaceful doing it there than in the common room or school library. Far less younger students running around, shouting or just being a nuisance.
She was about to answer the question What would you most likely find at the muggle shop Game? when the bathroom door opened, and a large muscular fifth year girl poked her head round. McLaren knew exactly who she was; she employed the most muscular girls in the school to guard the entrance to the bathroom so that she could have it entirely alone. It greatly annoyed the other prefects and quiditch captains at the time, but after repeated confrontations, they all decided to just wait for her to eventually finish.
"There's someone here wanting to see you" the woman said suspiciously. "A young boy."
"Oh of course it's a boy" McLaren smirked. "Of all the people who wants to see me in the bath, almost all of them would be male."
"It's me Dexter" the boy in question shouted from the other side of the door.
"Dexter" McLaren murmured. "He's my quiditch chaser you dunce" she scolded her bodyguard. "Let him in."
The girl removed her head, and Dexter walked inside. It was quite evident on Dexter's sudden blushes that he didn't know what this room was when he heard that McLaren was there. He was standing as far away from McLaren as he possibly could. The bath was covered with so much bubbles, it was impossible to see anything submerged in the water, but McLaren guessed that Dexter didn't want to take his chances.
"I wanted to talk to you about your quiditch strategy" shouted Dexter.
"For heaven's sake Dexter, I'm covered with bubbles all the way to my neck" McLaren scolded him. "Come over here and talk to me like a grown up, or do I need to get out the bath and walk to you."
McLaren smirked as Dexter hastily but carefully made his way around the bath so that he could talk to her without raising his voice.
"I was concerned about the quiditch strategy" Dexter repeated awkwardly, only looking at McLaren's face when talking, then stared at the wall next to her.
"Do you not trust me Dex?" asked McLaren in a teasing manner.
"I do trust you" Dexter squeaked. "But I haven't seen you train at all, and I overheard in practise that you're going to buy Potter a brand new broom."
"And what's the problem with that?" asked McLaren.
"You've made it perfectly clear to us that you're not buying another broom for yourself whilst your Firebolt is being serviced" Dexter explained. "And I haven't seen you practise at all on any other brooms."
"You haven't seen me practise on another broom Dexter, because I haven't practised at all since we beat Slytherin" clarified McLaren. "Getting to Formula One is much more important than being the best seeker."
"But that's why I'm worried" persisted Dexter. "It's only a few weeks before the Gryffindor game, and we haven't discussed tactics, strategy…"
"You worry too much" McLaren sighed. "You saw what happened with Bletchley; do you really think I've been resting on my laurels?"
"I don't understand" muttered Dexter.
"You will" grinned McLaren. "As long as Sebastian Gorren continues to be the idiot that he is, I have the perfect plan for us to win easily, without me having to train at all. Rest easy Dexter; you'll need your energy for the party when we score the biggest victory Hogwarts has ever seen."
"Ok…" Dexter murmured.
He waited a while to see if McLaren was going to explain her master plan, but when she waved goodbye to him, he realised it was his cue to leave.
"Aww bless him" McLaren said to herself once her bodyguards had let Dexter out of the bathroom. "He's going to struggle to get girlfriends if he's that nervous around a woman."
She giggled to herself for a bit, then looked back on the plan she concocted to beat Gryffindor. It was an admittedly risky strategy, with multiple points of failure. On the other hand, if everything goes her way, then the Quiditch Cup was as good as hers. She didn't care all that much about quiditch; the reason why she rarely put any attention to her team's training was because she put the vast majority of focus on her motorsport career. But if she could win the Quiditch Cup by putting in the bare minimum effort, she would. And she wasn't joking to Dexter when it came to scoring the biggest win in Hogwarts history. If her plan worked, then her name will go down in the history books.