A Year to Remember
By Izzy
Part 13:Another Finale
The summer sunset saw twelve students trickle, exhausted, out of the Knight Bus, having finally completed the N.E.W.T.s. "But you've go it lucky," Alfred told a bleary-eyed Hannah as he all but carried her across the the grounds. "You took them at the end of the year and got sufficient excuse to skip the normal finals."
"Well look who's talking!" retorted Max. "Mr. Exempt-From-End-of-Year-Tests!"
"Oh yeah, forgot..."
"But then, she was supposed to be too," he glanced at Hermione. She and Harry were both leaning very heavily on Ron, who looked in no condition to be leaned on by one person, let alone two. "You can hold me all you want tonight," Hermione could be heard murmering to Ron. "I'm in no condition to do any more revising."
"That reminds me," said Sappho suddenly. She stepped over to where Justin and Ernie were half walking, half limping across the grass. "Justin, there's something I'd like to talk to you about. And you two as well." She beckoned to Harry and Terry. None of the three boys looked like they felt like talking about anything, but they followed her slightly to the side.
"You see," she explained, "next weekend is what is known in American schools as End-Weekend. At New York State this year, that means the last drake race of the year in the morning, and the last Quidditch Home Game of the year in the evening. Drakes are small dragons," she added to the confused-looking Justin. "Then Sunday night there's a Ball for the Seniors, but only Hannah'll be going to that. I've wanted the three of you to see me play all year and this is the last chance."
Saturday...
Twelve New York State students, four Hogwarts students, and one Beauxbatons student by the name of Caroline Martin materialized on the lawn in front of New York State Wizarding School. The school itself was a large red brick building that looked vaguely Dutch. It was situated between mountains, and a small brook ran through the far end of the valley. It had an oddly hushed feel, as if an invisible shield blocked out all sound from the outside.
"The oldest European magic school on the Eastern Seaboard," said Alfred proudly. "Found originally by the Dutch."
"Hey, Sappho!" A tall black boy ran up to them. "Where have you been?"
"What, I should have come earlier, Brian?"
"Don't you realize today's the last game of the year?"
"Of course, but unless I'm mistaken, it's only 6 A.M. over here." She looked exasperated. "Out of curiousity, how long have you been up?"
"An hour," Brian replied with a touch of impatience. "I've been waiting for you for 45 minutes!"
"You are pushing it!" exclaimed Francisca, speaking for everyone.
Brian ignored her. "Come along, the rest of the team's waiting."
"Save me a seat!" Sappho called back as she headed off with Brian.
"Is he...fanatic?" Justin asked when they were out of hearing.
"You might say that," answered Francisca. "I lost count of the number of times last year he burst into our dorm-which he's not supposed to be in-to inform her of a last-minute practice."
Just then another black boy hurried up to Romulus Metlik. Metlik shook his head. "Folt! Where have you been? Didn't I tell you arrival time of 6:00?"
"Sorry," murmered Folt.
Caroline Martin squealed. "Ooh! A Vassal! We were required 'oo emancipate ours een France two cenzuries ago. I 'ear a few families are still clinging 'oo one or two een England." She glanced at the three English students as she spoke.
"Well those three aren't amoung them," Metlik told her. "Certianly not the Mudblood or the Jew. Come along." He led her and Folt away.
After Metlik's departure the Hogwarts students had a fine morning as Alfred, Max, and Francisca led them around the grounds. It was remarkably quiet.
"This whole valley has this feeling," commented Justin when they reached the brook, "like...Sleepy Hollow."
"Sleep Hollow?" repeated Harry in confusion, but Alfred smiled. "Ah. So the English do read American writers."
"Not really," answered Justin. "just the one. But anyway, the stillness, the Dutch feel, this brook...are you sure it's not Professor van Bobwhite?"
"Well, not entirely, Justin van Finch-Fletchley," answered Alfred.
"That doesn't sound right," commented Hannah. "Too cumbersome."
"Well then, he can just be Ichobad Crane, can't he?" replied Alfred. "The Englishman. I dare say with your looks you rival the blooming Katrina, Miss Hannah van Abbott."
"That works fine with me, Al Bones." she said. "With your beard and ponytail, you are certianly at wild man." She gave him a quick kiss.
"But what of Sappho van Linnett?" Max pointed out.
"Why yes," added Justin. "I cannot persue any Hannah van Abbott under these circumstances. She's all yours, Mr. van Fadton."
The seven of them continued to call each other van throughout the morning. Towards 10 o'clock they made thier way towards a large complicated-looking wire contraption surround by stands.
"The Drake-racing track," explained Alfred.
Harry flattened his hair. "No one mention who I am."
"Frightened, Mr. Harry van Potter?" asked Max, delibrately allowing several students clad in spring- green to overhear him.
Harry glared at him and started walking quickly to the other side of the stands.
"Hey, you get the best view from here! Max yelled, running after him.
"Max, stop it," Francisca called after him, and they followed Harry away from the now babbling New York State students.
"Drake-racing is a very American sport," commented Terry as they sat down.
"And we're proud of it," added Sappho, joining them.
"Ah! I take it Brian van Kennedy did not keep you overlong?" said Max, rather grandly.
"No he-van Kennedy?"
Justin whispered to her a brief account of the morning.
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "you'd still be plain Finch-Fletchley, because you're not from here, you're from England. Same goes for you two." She nodded towards Harry and Terry.
"Too bad," said Terry. "I rather liked the sound of Terry van Boot."
"And me?" asked Hannah.
"You were born here," answered Sappho, "so you'd still be van Abbott."
"Very well then," said Alfred, and his expression suddenly turned very serious as he knelt down. He flicked his wand, and a ring appeared. "Hannah, you have made such a difference in my life as...as I can't imagine you're not being here. You've...dammit, I've never been good with words. I love you. Hannah van Abbott, will you marry me?"
Max's cheerful face turned inton an expression of shock. He turned to the others with an expression that clearly said, "He means it!"
Hannah seemed even more shocked then Max. Her pink face turned dead white as she took the ring, her expression frozen, unable to speak.
It was an agonizing two minutes before she finally managed, "Give me time to think."
"Take all the time you want." He pocketed the ring and sat down next to her as if he had just asked her to lend him her cauldron. She, on the other hand, remained in a daze at the stands filled with spring-greened robes spectators, as well as small groups persumably from different schools.
Finally...
Finally several spring-green figureds flew up to the top of the wire contraption, and cheering broke out from all around.
"Allright, everyone, this is it!" boomed a voice from the top. "Welcome to End-Weekend New York State 1998!"
More cheering. The New York State students cheered the loudest.
"And without further ado, we present the contestants for the last Drake race being held here at New York State this year. First of all, from the Cape Netting Wizard's Institute, school-owned and trained Mystic Mountain, ridden by Dante Talanin! But I don't see anyone from Salem in the area..."
"What's Salem got to do with it?" asked Justinas an auburn-haired boy in a grey cloak led in a four- legged blue drake, with a crest hanging around its neck.
"The Salem Witches Institute and Cape Netting were founded together to educate the sexes seperatly," Sappho explained. "They're still officially the same school, though that doesn't mean anything anymore."
"Second, from the Susquehanna River Magic School, school-owned and trained Headman, ridden by Sonia Rinesmith." There was clapping, mostly from a small crowd and red-oranged figures, and a red-orange cloaked girl with a two-legged drake, also with a crest hanging from its neck.
"Third, from the Magic School of the Keys, is Across the Gulf, owned by the school, trained and ridden by Theodore Foriste."
The rose-colored two-legged drake looked rather cold, as did the white-robed boy who led it in. He was not wearing a cloak.
"Guess it's a little cold. Fourth, the Virginia Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is Landslide Confusion, owned, trained, and ridden by Sivitri Grove."
"Owned, trained, and ridden!" Francisca let out of a low whistle. "That's good! Oh come on!" She added at the four opened-mouthed Hogwarts students. "We were originally your colony. Of course we'll have at least one school named after yours!"
But Sappho's expression was dark. "She's gonna win. The Groves are a very famous drake- breeding family, and any Grove in a drake competition spells trouble. Enjoy it while you can, girl," she all but growled. "I happen to know your Quidditch team sucks."
Sivitri Grove was wearing a light brown cloak with silver fastening that looked like it was made from deerskin. Her drake was silver and four-legged. Like all the drakes, a crest was draped around its neck. The crest was similar to the Hogwarts crest:a wolf, a rattlesnake, a beaver, and an American bald eagle clustered around the letters VH.
"And finally, racing for home, Moonbeam Unaltered, owned by the school, trained and ridden by Hector Selindar!"
"Hey, that's the boy you've mentioned to me!" exclaimed Hannah, speaking for the first time since Alfred's proposal. Alfred nodded. Next to him, Max scowled.
Hector entered, wearing a spring-green cloak. He was a tall boy with black hair. The drake was white and four-legged.
"Will the riders now lead thier drakes to the start."
"And that is where?" asked Terry. He did not need to wait long for an answer; all five drakes were now converging onto one spot. There was a man standing there, a ribbon floating out of his wand.
"They're at the starting line-the ribbon's up-they're all in line-and they're off and flying it's Mystic Mountain with Headman shortly behind, Moonbeam Unaltered and Landslide Confusion, and Across the Gulf trailing-"
The drakes flew along the wire contraption, going over, under, around, through it with what were obviously some very difficult maneuver. All the drakes and riders were good, but it wasn't very long before even the drake-racing illiterate Harry, Justin, and Terry could tell the best pair were Sivitri Grove and Landslide Confusion. She rode with her legs straddling her drake's back and her hands buried in the scruff of its neck, and it was difficult to see where she ended and the drake began. Unlike the others, who had to jerk thier arms to get thier drakes to turn, the observers had to look very closely to see the slight twitch in her elbows that steered her drake fairly swiftly past Hector and Moonbeam Unaltered.
On the other end of the scale, althought Theodore Foriste and Across the Gulf might have done better had the wheather been warmer, the cold hampered them greatly. The announcer had just said something about a half-way mark when they abruptly veered off course, and were announced as disqualified.
Slowly Sivitri Grove and Landslide overtook Sonia Rinesmith and Headman, until they were called "neck and neck." But Hector and Moonbeam were close behind both of them. And Dante Talanin and Mystic Mountain were losing ground in front of them.
It was the first move Sivitri made that was clearly visible:she leaned forward slightly. Her drake put in a sudden burst of speed, pulling ahead, the lowering enough to scrape the wire, which made a shrill sound. This startled both Headman and Mystic Mountain so much that thier riders had to struggle to keep them under control, and she zoomed past them.
"Foul!" yelled Sappho angrily. "No drake can make contact with the wire for more then one second!"
"Which is how long they stayed on the wire," said Max, not sounding upset at all.
"But that move takes a lot of skill to perform!" exclaimed Hannah.
"And if anyone has that skill, it's her," replied Alfred.
Though not entirely unaffected, Moonbeam Unaltered was not as badly startled, and Hector easily regained control. They too zoomed past the two startled drakes. Then the two riders regained control and hastened after Hector and Sivitri, but the race was already had. Barely five minutes later Sivitri and Landslide Confusion crossed the finish line in triumph. Hector and Moonbeam followed thirty seconds later.
"The judges will be going over the events of the race, as Landslide Confusion may face disqualification," announced the announcer. "Results will be announced as soon as they are official."
They left the stands, and soon spotted Hector. There was a crowd around him, people complimenting him on his ability to control his drake, admiring girls trying to get him to look at them, and all sorts of various fans. He was trying to make his way towards them.
"Come on," hissed Max, who then tried to steer the group away from Hector. The four Hogwarts students looked at him funny. "They don't like each other," Francisca whispered.
Max's efforts were however in vain, and Hector shed his fans and made his way over to them.
"Hi Alfred! Did you-why hello! Who are these four people? Why that scar-you're Harry Potter! I thought I heard something about him being here!" Harry found his hand being shook so hard it was nearly wrenched out of its socket.
"And this is Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley," continued Sappho, "and Hannah Abbott."
Apon being introduced to Hannah, Hector smiled very warmly and said, "This is your old friend, Alfred?" in a rather dazed voice.
"Don't even think about it," Max hissed. "She's with him."
"Oh," Hector looked really embarrased. "I'll-I gotta go." He ran off.
"Yeah, go immerse yourself in your brainless fans," said Max as soon as Hector was out of earshot. "Watch out for him, Hannah, he's a spoilt brat, not used to being rejected."
Sappho shot him a glare. "Don't be ridiculous, Max! He's not going to bother her. Your views of him nonwithstanding, he's got more decency then that. Now what say we go inside and take a nap. I'm going to, I will need to be awake this evening."
That evening...
"There's definitly something about a nighttime Quidditch Match," commented Terry Boot as they took thier seats in the stands, each clutching a stub of parchment. "No wonder they charged for it." The Quidditch stadium looked much like the one Hogwarts, with one big exception:the stands were divided into two sections, one clustered around the Home goalposts, the other around the Visiting goalposts. They were seated, along with the majority of the crowd, on the Home side of the pitch. A number of spring-green figures were clustered in front of the Home stands, and a bunch of dark brown figures in front of the Visiting stands. Everything was illuminated with a light that seemed to lack a source.
Looking closer at the figures on the Home side, Harry spotted both Sappho and Brian amoung them, wearing Quidditch robes. With them were five others who could only be thier teammates. They were surrounded by a bunch of girls in tight-fitting spring-green tank tops and short skirts. "Who are they?" he asked Max.
"Cheerleaders," answered Max. "They strut thier stuff in support of the school." This explanation, coupled with a weird grin, just left Harry more confused.
Max meantime laughed and pointed down near the bottom of the stands. Following the direction in which he pointed, they saw Folt sitting alone.
"Probably Metlik sent him so he could hear about the game without having to attend, so he could screw that French girl while they were alone. Loyal little slave. Just like his ancestors. The Emancipation Proclamation may have stopped slavery amoung Muggles, but we don't follow thier example, now do we?" he finished sarcasticly.
"Is Hector going to join us?" Alfred asked anxiously.
"I don't know," answered Francisca. "Sappho tried to talk to him, but..."
"But he's a coward and he's no loss!" finished Max for her. "Can't take getting beaten by a Grove! I saw him, trying to get her disqualified even after the recording played five times showed her having stayed within the rules." They had all witnessed Max's pleasure(and Sappho's displeasure) at learning that Sivitri Grove had not been disqualified for her unorthodox but nethertheless apparently legal tactics, and had been declared the winner.
Midway between the goalposts a scoreboard came to life:HOME:0, VISITOR:0, quieting the stadium. A voice echoed through the stadium:'Welcome, one and all, to the second phase of End-Weekend New York State 1998, the last Quidditch match for the year, the New York State Drakes versus the New Sweden Animagi!"
Defeaning applause. The New York State cheerleaders moved onto the pitch until they covered half of it. Another group of girls, dressed the same except in dark brown, spread out over the other half. The seven opposing players, in dark brown Quidditch robes, stood in front of the stands containing their supporters.
"Will everyone please rise for the playing of our national anthem."
Everyone rose as "The Star-Spangled Banner" played from somewhere.
"And now, presenting-the New York State 1998 Drakes Quidditch team! Team captain and Beater Brian Kennedy!"
A loud whoosh, and Brian took off to cheers.
"Fellow Beater Willis Poile!"
Another whoosh, and a second green-robed figure joined Kennedy.
"Seeker Sappho Linnett! Keeper Alonzo Terence! And Chaser Vivian Dett, Ophelia Elliot, and Beatrice Sitreen!"
Up they all rose, hanging over thier side of the pitch. Likewise the Animagi were introduced and rose into the air.
The cheerleaders burst into life. Twelve of them formed a straight line across the pitch and raised thier wands.
"Gimme an N!" yelled one of them.
"N!" yelled back the rest, and a large N sprang from the wand of the cheerleader furthest to the left
"Gimme an E!"
"E!" An E joined the N.
"Gimme a W!"
"W!"
"Gimme a Y!"
"Y!"
"Gimme a O!"
They gave her an O, and one by one, an R, a K, an A, another T, and an E sprung up.
"And what does that spell?" yelled the first one.
"NEW YORK STATE!"
The Animagi cheerleaders were not to be outdone. They responded with a display of thier own, using thier wands to levitate themselves and others and leaving several boys in the stands with little interest in what was going on in the air. The Drakes cheerleaders glared at them.
"Uh oh, they don't like each other." commented Francisca. "There's going to be a Cheer Fight is this game goes on too long."
Later...
"Penalty to New Sweden!" announced the referee for the zillionth time. Exhausted from too many penalties, Alonzo Terence failed miserably in his attempt to save it. He glared at the fuming Ophelia Elliot, who appeared to be only have listening to Brian yell at her. It was she and her awful temper who had been responsible for half the points the Animagi had scored, and the fact that they were ahead by 90 points.
Down below, the Animagi cheerleaders burst into a dance that most of the people present were sick of. The Drakes cheerleaders could only glare, and several of them were muttering.
"First symptoms," whispered Francisca.
Play resumed. Vivian Dett took the Quaffle. It was stolen by Isadore Gong of the Animagi. He was hit by a Bludger from Brian. The Quaffle was grabbed by Elliot. She charged relentlessly for the goal.
Just then a glimmer of gold appeared, brilliant in the moonlight. Both Sappho and the Animagi Seeker spotted it and streaked towards it. Then Elliot, oblivious to the snitch's existance, flew in front of them so fast she sent both of them slighty of course. By the time they were back on course the snitch had vanished.
The crowd groaned. "How did Ophelia get on the team again?" Alfred asked Max.
The Animagi cheerleaders were beside themselves. But then Elliot scored, and the Drakes began dancing wildly. Their moves became more fervent, and they began snarling at each other.
"Second symptoms," whispered Francisca.
Very suddenly, from somewhere down on the pitch, from which side noone was sure, came the yell, "Expelliarmus!"
"There they go!" yelled Francisca. "Cheer Fight!" Indeed, Disarming spells were shooting this way and that, back and forth between the two groups.
"No more cheers tonight," said Francisca to the three English students. "Once a cheerleader loses her wand, of course she can't take any until a more sucessful teammate toses her another wand, unless of course she's knocked out. In this manner the wands keep changing hands and the fight can go on as long as the game. It ends either when the game does or when one side has all the wands. Then they have to spend hours getting each girl her own wand back."
"Shouldn't they try to stop it?" asked Terry. "I mean, couldn't it cause problems, like-"
But at this point, one of the wands gone awry hit a tiny knob as the edge of the stands which apparently was crucial to the lighting, and the stadium was plunged into darkness.
"Like this?" Francisca finished for him. "Sure, but that only makes it more fun."
"LOOK!" yelled Justin, distracting everyone's attention towards two dark figures in the sky. They were headed towards one destination. They could only be the two Seekers, but it was impossible to tell which was which. Then a hand shot out and made a snatch in mid-air, and there was a cry of triumph.
For several seconds there was dead silence. Who had won?
Then the lights came up, and Sappho hung over the pitch, triumphantly holding up the snitch for all to see.
A few minutes later she landed to wild applause, and was promptly herded off by Brian for a post- match talk.