Summary: The Quidditch final arrives, the Truth-Teller returns - and disaster strikes!
Author's Notes: This was going to be the last part, but my computer complained it was too long, so I had to split it in half, and now part 7 is the last part!
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except for a couple I've added.
A week had passed since Ginny had made her tearful confession and Malfoy had been banned from playing Quidditch. The exams were over, and students who had been looking haunted and worried for weeks were walking about looking drained, but relieved. On Friday evening, after the last exam, Harry had summoned the Gryffindor team to the Quidditch pitch and they had practised harder than ever. To Harry's relief, Ginny seemed to be almost back to normal. She was still quite subdued, and seemed to be a bit ashamed of the fuss and anxiety she had caused, but she tried very hard at the practice, as if trying to make amends to the rest of the team for the way she had played before. They practised for hours on Saturday and Sunday, getting ready for Monday's match. "That was excellent!" Harry told the team at the end of their last practice. If we can play like that tomorrow, I really think the Quidditch cup will have our name on it again this year."
"Oh, I hope so!" said Rosalie Little. She - along with most of the team - had experienced the buzz of winning last year; but Ginny and Tony Forest were new to the team this year, and they were keen to find out what victory felt like.
"Just make sure you all go to bed early tonight and get plenty of sleep," said Harry, and grinned to himself, thinking how much he sounded like Oliver Wood, who had been the Gryffindor captain when Harry first joined the team. Wood now worked for his father's company, designing new and faster brooms, which was good news for the Gryffindor team because he sometimes sent them prototypes to try out.
When Harry and the rest of the team arrived back in the Gryffindor common room, there was a festive atmosphere. Everyone was happy that the exams were over, and looking forward to the Quidditch final next day. Harry and Ginny joined Ron and Hermione, who were playing chess.
"Bet Malfoy feels sick he's not playing tomorrow," said Ron, directing his bishop to take one of Hermione's knights. "Check, Hermione."
Hermione promptly moved her king out of danger and said, sounding rather worried, "I hope he's not planning to do anything to get his own back. He's been glaring at us every meal-time since then."
"So Malfoy hates us, so what's new?" shrugged Ron. He moved his bishop again. "Check."
"He can't do anything during the final, can he?" asked Harry. "All the teachers will be there. He'll just have to sit in the stands and cheer when the rest of the Slytherin team commit fouls on us."
"Who are they playing as Seeker now?" asked Hermione, making her next move.
"Blaise Zabini. Never seen him play, but I'm not too worried," said Harry.
"Yeah, we're going to beat them anyway," said Ron, considering for a second and then moving his queen. "Checkmate. Sorry, Hermione!" He grinned across at her, and she smiled back, ruefully.
After breakfast the next morning, Harry went back to the dormitory to change his shoes. He was nervous about the match, but tried to give himself confidence by remembering how great it had felt to win last year, and how well his team had played yesterday in practice. Ron was sitting on the side of his bed, looking at the Truth-Teller, which he had picked up from Harry's bedside table.
"Pretty useful present this turned out to be. Made Malfoy say a few things he didn't mean to say!"
"Maybe I'll take it out to the pitch with me," said Harry. "We could do with a good luck mascot." He put the Truth-Teller carefully in his pocket. Then he went to find the rest of his team, while Ron went in search of Hermione.
As the start of the match drew closer, the stands began to fill up with people carrying red or green flags and banners. The summer sky was clear and blue. In the changing rooms, the Gryffindor team were nervously changing into their scarlet robes. Tony Forest looked as if he was about to be sick. Ginny looked pale, but determined, as she tied back her red hair. Harry was trying to think of something to say to his team which would fill them with confidence. He had shown the others the Truth-Teller, and they had put it on a shelf for safe-keeping. They were almost ready to go out to the pitch when there was a tap on the door. Harry opened it. He was astonished to see Professor Trelawny standing there - probably the last person he would have expected to see at that moment. She was peering anxiously through the doorway, blinking through her glasses, draped in jewellery and gauzy shawls as usual, though the day was warm.
"Professor!" said Harry in surprise.
She came in, looking around at them, before drawing Harry to one side and speaking in a confidential whisper. "My dear boy, please forgive my intrusion. I was anxious to find out if you had heeded my warnings - we spoke last week - "
"Oh, yes," said Harry.
"I warned you of a possible betrayal by a friend..."
The rest of the team were eavesdropping and looking at each other in amusement, but on hearing this, Ginny blushed guiltily. Harry noticed her discomfort, and said hastily, "Honestly, Professor, I think that's been avoided. It's not going to happen."
"I hope not, my dear, indeed I hope not. But what of the gift? I predicted a gift..."
"Oh. Yeah. I did get a gift. It's there, actually." Harry pointed towards the Truth-Teller, glittering on the shelf.
Professor Trelawny's eyes widened with interest, and she put out a hand eagerly. "May I? Ah, thank you." She turned the Truth-Teller over in her hands. "Fascinating. And very powerful." She closed her eyes, still holding the Truth-Teller, and began to breathe deeply. "Ahh...I am Seeing...a vision is coming to me...yes...beware...beware the South. Beware the South." She paused, breathed deeply once more and opened her eyes. "Now what could that mean?" She replaced the Truth-Teller on the shelf and turned to Harry. "Be careful, dear boy. I do not always know the meaning of my predictions but the Fates do not lie." She nodded to the rest of the team and swept out of the changing rooms.
"Weird!" said Dean Thomas. "What was that all about?"
"Well, I don't know about 'The Fates do not lie', but most of her predictions are a load of rubbish if you ask me," said Rosalie, lacing her shoes.
"Mm...but she was holding the Truth-Teller when she made that one," said Harry. "So anything she said must be true. But what does it mean - Beware the South?"
"Don't worry about it, Harry," said Dean. "She's nuts."
Harry realised it was time for them to be out on the pitch. "OK, now remember, we're a better team than Slytherin and we're going to win," he said, trying to sound confident. "It's a good clear day, there's no wind and there's no reason why we can't play as well as we did yesterday in practice. Good luck, I know we can do it." He grinned around at the team. Most of them managed to grin back. Ginny nodded tensely, and Tony Forest gulped, still looking a bit green.
When the Gryffindor team walked out on to the pitch they were met by a storm of applause from their supporters and a few boos from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Looking up, Harry saw Ron, Hermione, Neville, Hagrid and his other supporters sitting ready with their rosettes and banners. Ron gave Harry a 'thumbs-up' sign. Harry saw Professor Snape sitting grim-faced with the other Slytherin supporters, but he couldn't see Malfoy anywhere.
In the front row of the stands, Professor McGonagall was sitting next to Seamus Finnigan, who was commentating on the match.
"Here come the Gryffindor team!" Seamus called as they walked on to the pitch. "Potter hoping to lead the team to a fourth consecutive victory. Two new caps this year for Gryffindor - Ginny Weasley and Tony Forest - but they've proved they can do the job in this year's other matches. And here come the Slytherins - they're fielding a new Seeker today as we all know - will Zabini be up to the pressure of playing in the final?"
Madam Hooch called Harry and the Slytherin captain, Leech, to shake hands in the centre of the pitch. Then she called, "Mount your brooms! Three...two...one..." and the whistle blew. There was a huge cheer as the two teams took off and the match started.
Harry forgot his nerves and looped around the pitch, looking for the Snitch and checking what else was happening in the match.
"And Rosalie Little of Gryffindor has possession of the Quaffle," Seamus yelled, "she's going very wide to the right, there's a Slytherin Beater in pursuit - and she's passed in to Weasley - oh, nice catch! - Weasley's right in front of the Slytherin goalposts - SHE SCORES!"
The Gryffindor supporters cheered. So did Harry. Ginny gave a whoop of delight as she slapped hands with Rosalie.
The game continued fast and furiously. Several times the Gryffindor Chasers fooled the Slytherins by going wide and passing the Quaffle into the middle at the last minute. One of the Slytherin Beaters targeted Ginny and kept hitting Bludgers towards her, but Dean Thomas made a beautiful move that sent a Bludger crashing into the Slytherin Beater's stomach and kept him quiet for a good ten minutes, recovering. Blaise Zabini's strategy seemed to be to stick as close to Harry as possible, but Harry was on a faster broom and managed to leave him behind on several occasions, still looking around eagerly for the Snitch.
The score was soon fifty-ten to Gryffindor. Harry noticed the Slytherin Keeper looking harrassed, squinting into the sun and scowling as Tony swept towards him again with the Quaffle. "Lucky our Keeper isn't looking into the sun," thought Harry. "Good thing we drew the southern goalposts to defend. The southern - "
For just a moment Harry forgot about the Snitch as he remembered Professor Trelawny's words. "Beware the South." No. Surely it couldn't have meant the south end of the pitch? What danger could there possibly be there...?
He was startled by the blast of Madam Hooch's whistle and an outbreak of shouting. The Slytherin Keeper had tried to pull Rosalie off her broom to stop her from scoring. Madam Hooch had awarded Gryffindor a penalty and the Slytherins were complaining loudly. Harry, with Zabini still shadowing him, flew towards the scene of the argument, hoping none of his team would retaliate and earn Slytherin a penalty. The whole of both teams had now converged on the northern goalposts, where the Slytherin Keeper was still protesting his innocence. Harry was just about to join in the discussion when -
BANG! CRACK! BOOM!
A series of deafening explosions blasted out, drowning out the noise of the crowd's cheers and the players' arguments. The south end of the pitch under the Gryffindor goalposts seemed to have exploded as the ground shook, huge fountains of fire and sparks burst out and the air filled with dense smoke. Blinded, the players were thrown in all directions by the blast and Harry fought for control as he felt himself falling through the smoke. There were screams from the Gryffindor supporters - those in the front rows were fleeing as the front barrier of the stands was blown apart and bits of wood flew into the air. Everything was chaos and confusion. Ron and Hermione had grabbed each other and dived to the floor when the explosions started. Hermione gasped "Harry!" as they looked up fearfully at the swirling dust and smoke which hid the place where the players had been.
Quick - go to part 7!