*Due to extreme pressure from dahling reviewers, here's your next chapter, this weekend. So don't blame me if it's a little short.
Thanks to my lovely reviewers, though. Julietta, who wrote the nicest, longest, most informative review I have received -- :-) -- and Isa, my long-time supporter. If it hadn't been for Isa and Lavender Ice, I would have let writer's block claim this story a little while ago and started something else, giving up on this. So if you enjoy this, send them a big thank-you in the form of reviews! *wink* Julietta, I hope my e-mail covered everything, and thanks for bringing up "action scenes". Never fear, they shall come. (Hopefully. Oops, just kidding!) Isa, I still love ya, even if you weren't the first. *smile* I must warn you however, only four people have ever called my "Rhe". One is my pregnant mother, the other a teacher, and I am not on speaking terms with the other two.
Ahem. *grin*
This chapter gave me some trouble, 'cause I know what I'm doing after the next couple chapters... I just have to *get* there. I have a good Christmas chapter (with one of the large doses of Sirius I promised!) and I want to reveal Sara's idenity so I can upload another fic I have in my head. This is sort of hard to get started on. Luckily, my brother had a really boring basketball game today, so I just wrote away.
SoS -- Speaking of Sara: The dormitory scene will be dropped as soon as I get around to it. And no, this isn't a one-sided feud. Sara's no angel, as you shall soon see, and she has ways of infuriating people when she feels so inclined. *cackles*
CC -- In an upcoming fic, there will be a mission statement of the CC, which will hopefully clear it up a bit. If anyone else is confused, you can always email me at tmacias@aol.com or better yet, leave a review with your email. *grin* Sorry, I just want more than two reviews on my thirteen chaptered story! That looks dreadful!
Okay, now that my rambling is over, on with the chapter:
1 November
Ron blew up at me this morning.
He caught up with me as I was walking with Ginny to the Great Hall for breakfast. He squeezed around the people surrounding a pale Gryffindor Quidditch team and worked his way over to me, scowling darkly.
"Good morning, dearest elder brother mine," Ginny smiled brightly, causing me to giggle. Ron's scowl increased in size.
"Go away, Ginny. Hermione and I have to talk," he growled.
Ginny tossed her head, scowled, and stalked off to comfort a pale Sara.
Naturally, this did not set well with me. I inclined my head and glared at Ron. "What?"
"Where did you go last night?" he demanded angrily.
I glowered. "As if it's any of your concern. I'm sure Miss Bocklehurst entertained you mightily."
You'd've thought I had slapped him across the face. "Bloody hell, Hermione!"
"Watch your mouth!" I snapped out of habit.
It didn't improve his mood. "Quit it! I'll say what I want to!"
"And go off with whatever girl you want to! Why didn't you just stay with Diana?"
"Because I wanted to go with you!"
"Then why'd you abandon me?"
"All I did was dance with a few other girls and you run off!" he hollered. "Bloody hell, Hermione, I'm allowed to talk with another girl at a Fling!"
I got angry at being yelled at - naturally. "Viktor would have never left me like that," I said, in an all too calm and cool tone.
"I'm not that damn gentleman Krum!" Ron fumed.
"Trust me, I know," I said coolly, turning on my heel. Behind me, Ron fumed by hiss incoherently. People were starting to stare and titter.
"Hermione?" asked Lavender.
"What?" I snapped.
"Why do you even bother with him after Viktor Krum?"
I turned at her furiously. "I do not bother with Ronald Weasley!" I shouted. Oh, denial, denial.
Ginny and Sara burst out laughing. A lot of colour returned to the latter's face; the former was just giggling helplessly.
Fuming and face red as a Quaffle (ah, the spirit of Quidditch), I stalked to the Great Hall and ate in silence. Alicia was trying to calm the nerves of the team while she was the palest and most nervous of the lot. Fred and George, naturally, were dealing with the pressure… no, not by going over Quidditch tatics. They were putting the finishing touches on David Stebbins, who's playing "Davy" again. Somehow, I have a feeling their little ruse is going to be revealed soon.
I cast an eye over at Malfoy. I can't watch. You know, he's not that bad a flyer. Without Harry… what if Slytherin wins?
Oh, please, no.
I notice he seems confident, more so than when he plays Harry, but he's also glancing at Sara warily, and I'm remembering them when on the train… they had known each other before. I wonder how. Perhaps because she really is related to Drothl, and the Drothls are pals with the Malfoys? But, you know, Draco and Sara don't like each other.
Speaking of which, I'm watching Sara like a hawk with Harry's Firebolt. Luckily, she is taking good care of it. She's not that stupid… oh, all right… she's not stupid, really - just annoying.
After a year's absence of Quidditch, the whole of the school was incredibly pumped. (I don't think it helped the nerves of Jason, Candy, and Blustovadk, or even the veterans. Candy Designer was… whoa. Bouncy, bouncy, bounce, bounce, bounce - the Weasley twins have a rival for excited anticipation.) Some people went all out. The Creeveys and their friends (but mainly the Creeveys, Natalie McDonald pointedly informed us) had a banner worse than the one I helped with in our first year. This thing was lividly lucid and Hagrid-sized. Several fourth-year Slytherins were making a fortune off "merchandise". ("Poorly made, I suppose," Sara smiled at one Slytherin pleasantly as she declined." I just wished Harry was there to enjoy it… and that Ron and I could…
Ron watched the game with Seamus, Dean, and Neville. I went off with Ginny and some of her friends… sans David Stebbins. I felt rather out of place, and remembered the saying on Alyn's calendar for the day:
Friends don't expect you to be perfect.
In fact, they are astonished when you are.
And then, of course, I snorted.
Lee Jordan was in rare form for his last year as commentator. Prof. McGonagall likely had the worst headache…
(I asked her about it later. She said wryly that there used to be multiple commentators. "Then for three years we had a pairing of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. I said that was the end of that.)
"Hello, and welcome back! Remember me? I'm your drop-dead gorgeous commentator, Lee Jordan, at the first match of his last year. Oh, come now, don't cry too hard, ladies…"
Honestly. Some girls cheered and found that funny - or, worse, true.
"Presenting… the Gryffindors! Miss Spinnet, Miss Bell, two of the Mr. Weasleys, newcomers Miss Designer - daughter of legend Carla Harming, by the way - Mr. Leffler, and fill-in Miss Blustovadk. All those Slytherins grinning stupidly, just goes to show you don't think you can win without Seeker Potter out of action…"
"Jordan…"
"Er, anyway. That's the Gryffindors! Oh, what, the opposers? Why bother? Oh, okay, all right… Slytherins: headed by their new Captain Montague. New Chasers Misters Diehl and Chrism; Beaters Derrick and Kent, and Seeker Malfoy." The lack of enthusiasm in Lee's voice was evident.
Katie took absolutely no time in scoring the first goal. Derrick, annoyed, pounded a Bludger her way. Montague replied with a goal of his own. Then, for a long time, there was no scoring. Why? Two reasons; good news and bad news.
The good news was that Fred and George are excellent Beaters and that Jason Leffler, while he wasn't Oliver Wood, did quite well, excellently, in fact. But Candy Designer! She just… wasn't a team player. She didn't pass when passing was the obvious choice; she made stupid mistakes… oh, she just wasn't ready. Later, when I saw Harry, he looked downright haggard. He said he had been watching Candy and getting a terrible headache.
Of course, to be fair, it was Candy's first game. Furthermore, Alicia and Katie were used to Angelina, and it can be difficult, being the odd person of the trio. But she just didn't have their chemistry at all. I'm no expert, but unless I miss my guess, Candy won't be a Chaser for very long; I'm sorry. Seamus grinned and said it looked like she was trying to play hooky from Potions, not Quidditch.
Speaking of which, Snape looked actually amused for the first time all year, watching Candy. Although Snape amused isn't a whole lot better than Snape moody. It's Snape angry you've got to watch for. But he was following Candy with his dark eyes fixed, with a sort of amused sneer.
But then I remembered what he's doing. Well, if he can find comfort from something, I won't begrudge him it.
Soon Slytherin had a lead of 60-20 (Candy, in fact, made the other score. However, when Alicia nearly scored, it was Candy who got in her way, so she's still not on solid ground. Pardon the pun.) The gold-and-scarlet side of the playing field seemed to droop.
I glanced around for Drothl suddenly, wondering which House she would support.
She wasn't at the game at all. Which somewhat ruled out the Sara "Drothl" theory - you would think Drothl would be watching Sara play if my theory was correct. But then, that might just be to not arouse suspicion, after all.
Sara… oh, I'm not above admitting she was flying quite well. She was nowhere near the talent of Harry, but who is? She was doing pretty well. Of course, if you look at it technically, that might have been because she had a Firebolt.
Then, finally, Alicia and Katie got annoyed and started flying so fast Candy couldn't keep up with them. Using beautiful teamwork, they scored.
Right as Lee was excitedly telling us the new score, Malfoy and Blustovadk tore off to the Slytherin end of the field.
"And I think the Snitch has been spotted!" Lee cried.
Bump - bump - bump - they were practically on top of each other, limbs knocking together. It looked almost a little painful, but neither seemed to notice.
Then Kent, who had swung mightily, sent a Bludger over. Personally, I was thinking that was a stupid move, since his own teammate was just as likely to get hit. Both averted it when Malfoy pushed Sara into the line of fire.
CRACK! Everyone winced as Sara's ankle broke and Madam Hooch tried to blow her whsitle -- but it came out like a screech and was ignored.
Blustovadk barely seemed to notice. She veered sharply and kept pelting along, her ankle at an angle it should never, never be. Then, with a bit of Slytherin cunning, she turned sharply - into Malfoy.
Malfoy was forced to go way left, out of the way. Sara tore along and just managed to snatch the Snitch.
The stadium, per usual, exploded into raucous cheers. Hagrid looked pleased for the first time since his assistants came along. Alicia whooped right along with Fred and George for joy. The Gryffindor supporters got to the field quickly to offer congratulations. Blustovadk bobbed down slowly. Lee found her and planted her a kiss on the cheek; Sara smiled weakly, taken extremely off guard, and then fell back to the ground - her ankle.
"Please don't trample me," she begged in a murmur, almost comically.
"Hospital wing," Alicia said, somewhat worriedly, but more thrilled than anything else. "Okay?"
"I'm alive, aren't I?" Sara retorted. "Where's dear Draco?"
Dear Draco had disappeared.
"Too bad," Sara sighed, allowing the Weasleys to help her up. She grinned at them. "Doesn't this look familiar?"
"Same ankle Malfoy broke on the train?" George asked.
She grinned wryly. "Something about the left side ankle that he loves. Remind me to send him a Christmas card."
I was surprised, when I decided to go in with Fred, George, and Sara, to find Harry awake and bright-eyed. "Great job! We won! That was some flying."
I was dismayed. "You were watching the game?"
"Yeah, I saw it from the window," he replied, indicating with his hand.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I would have stayed to keep you company…"
"Don't worry about it. Sara, are you all right? Nice job."
She grinned. "I will be."
Madam Pomfrey knew that to be true - broken ankles are nothing to her - but it didn't stop her usual barrage of complaints and dark predictions of the lives of today's teenagers. I didn't wait around; I followed the twins to the common room - or tried to.
"Naw, we need to get party supplies," Fred announced. "Don't suppose you would want to visit?"
"Yeah, what about your elf friends?" George persisted.
"I'm working on it," I replied confidently.
George winked. "Come on, I remember my fifth year. No way you're doing that and doing homework."
"Glad you trust my capabilities so much," I muttered on my way through Gryffindor Tower.
And now I suppose I should join that party. Toasts have been going around to everyone, including Jason Leffler's great-great-grandmother. ("If Jasmine Eglin hadn't married who she did, Jason wouldn't be here and we might not have won the game!") Really, thought. Alicia is a hero because as Oliver's successor she won her first game. Katie scored one of our two goals. Fred and George were their general terrific selves. Sara is an instant celebrity. Jason is getting quite a treatment for a splendid debut game. Parvati hasn't left his elbow all night.
Candy is keeping her head down quietly, knowing everyone is more or less cool in enthusiasm toward her. In fact, I feel a little sorry for her. But she had been so full of herself. And Ron was especially nasty. Ron. Ron. Oh. Why wouldn't he be more like… oh, Jason. Quiet, low-key, considerate, clever…
1 November, later
Considering, it's not surprise. Alicia had a long private talk with Candy. When it was over, Candy looked a little rebellious, which was a bit of a giveaway to Alicia's announcement.
"Ahem," Alicia began, and the room quieted just enough to listen. "Candy, Katie, and I have been talking. And while we agree Candy Designer has the potential to be a terrific player, we think she could benefit from a year as a reverse for the experience." (The polite way of saying it.) The room buzzed. While playing Seeker was taboo, due to Charlie and Harry's brilliance, Chaser was a different matter. "Sara Blustovadk? We'd like you to be our third Chaser."
Blustovadk's eyes lit up, but she shook her head. "Sorry, but I can't. Haven't a broom."
Alicia, Katie, Fred, and George considered this for a moment. Finally the huddle broke and Alicia said: "Listen. We don't play Ravenclaw until spring. You use a school broom; we'll see what happens then. Like George said, you might get something for Christmas, or as Katie reminded us, if any of us get a new broom, you can keep the old one."
The headache I got from the cheering at the match increased.
3 November
Letters:
Dad: "Honey", he's just thrilled that I decided to come home from Christmas. (Ah, he should know my vows and their seriousness by now.) Did I remember the Roberts? They were a doctor couple, acquaintances. They've recently had a terrible family tragedy and he and Mum invited them over for Christmas, so I had better clean up my act and be a good girl for company - (tongue-in-cheek). I'm not to work too hard, like Mum is right now. All the best from home.
Mum: She sent her wishes in Dad's letter, 'cause Mummy's such a bad little workaholic she couldn't find time to write this week.
Anna: No word. Frankly, I'm concerned.
Viktor: Practices have been grueling lately. They're considering "letting go" of Alexandrian Zograf. The weather in Bulgaria was muddy and nasty. Even those children from the park were inside. How was I doing, and how did the Quidditch match go? (Honestly - what's with men and Quidditch? In Morgana's name!)
Alyn: Hasn't written this week; I suppose he's busy.
Bill: In Red Lion (a town, not a pub, by the way), he thinks John appeared. One of the neighbourhood residents (a teenage girl) states a man came to her and sprouted off "gibberish". He wrote: "It's frustrating she can't remember exactly what he said, except something about 'captured' and 'attack next', which spooked her. This mystery fellow fits John's description and behaviour, however. Charlie's been tracing dominions. Thus far, none he found have been in Diagon Alley the past year."
Grrrrr.
Fleur kindly overruled. Funny, though - Ginny states she saw Snape "having words" with her before she conceded. Coincidence? I think not. So finally we can send that letter! It only took us about a month or so! Luckily, we don't need approval from anyone but the second level - the group we met at the Three Broomsticks. If we had any more people, I'd burst. Interestingly enough, I hear Mr. Page has a handsome young nephew, which explains a few things, doesn't it?
Oh, and good news! Harry's set to be released from the hospital wing on the 7th!
4 November
Red Lion was attacked last night. Dumbledore announced it this morning, and rumours are flying everywhere. Ernie MacMillian is an interesting source of information - since it probably bares a little resemblance to the truth and is wildly captivating.
As far as I can figure, no Dark Mark was left… strange. Two people are missing. Some Exploding Spells were sent - Ernie swears his very own great-aunt heard the words "Reducto". Memories of all the Muggles living there had to be wiped big-time, and worse, one of the missing ones is a Muggle. Luckily, she had no family to speak of, so it's easier to cover. I've also heard rumours of everything from a fire-breathing cat to several loose werewolves to Kapykoae, not all of which I'm ready to believe.
So, in any case, we still sent out the "please be on watch for any Dark Activity" letters the CC made… all rather laughable, don't you agree? And now we need to plan a new course of action. What to tell now? What to do? How much can letters combat this?
Harry was so upset it was surprising when Ron and I put up with each other long enough to tell him. He came very close to crying, much to my astonishment and Ron's awkwardness.
"The, er, Order of the Phoenix -" Ron began uncertainly.
Harry glared at us. "What? The Order of the Phoenix? Exactly what is that doing? Nothing. He's attacked; he's killed people. They couldn't stop it and they never could. What exactly is it?"
Before I could explain, Madam Pomfrey kicked us out, and Ron said that was a good thing.
It was my turn to glare. "Why?" I asked shortly.
"Because he didn't want some big long textbook paragraph. He wanted to know what it was, not the facts about it."
I bristled. "Well, that what I would have told him. The Order of the Phoenix is an order of protection -"
"Let me rephrase that," Ron rolled his eyes. "He wants to understand how it helps."
"Well, when he actually sees an attack, like he's so anxious to do since he wants to help so badly, I guess he'll find out, won't he?" I snapped, turning away.
Next Chapter: An important meeting, an arguement (no, not Hermione and Ron), and progress in the CC... well, sort of. Meanwhile, you can read my "Serendipity", or Voltora's "The Greatest Gift", or Jedi Bodicea, who finally updated "Memories of Tomorrow: Dreams of Yesterday"!
