Chapter 5 – Is Ravishing on the Menu? I think not.

Disclaimer: We do not own anything that belongs to J. K. Rowling (obviously!)

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"He kissed me." Heather stood in front of the mirror, her fingers on her lips. "He kissed me..."

Her lips still tingled at the quick peck he had planted there so gently...

Heather brought herself up short. "It's not the first time you've been kissed, Heather Harris!" she chastised. "And hopefully it won't be the last!"

Maybe Sirius will do it again... her traitorous mind thought and she fought the urge to slap herself on the head. It wouldn't help.

"You're acting like a pathetic schoolgirl!" she berated, running a comb through her hair. "And what do you care if Sirius Black kissed you or not? He's not – I said NOT – going to do it again, no matter how much you wish he would. Even though you don't!"

Then why are you ready before eight o'clock on your holiday just in case he comes and picks you up for the next Quidditch match? A sport you don't even profess to like?

Heather groaned. There was no point in fighting with herself; her mind always won, the damned thing!

A knock on the door made her heart beat faster and she opened it abruptly, almost startling her landlady who was standing on the other side.

"Oh..." Heather said, disappointed. "Hello."

"Good morning, dear. I've brought your breakfast up for you." The landlady put the tray down on the table. "Is there anything else that you want?" she asked brightly.

Heather pasted a smile onto her face and shook her head. "No, thanks," she said and the old lady left.

She sat down and buttered a slice of toast, nibbling on it distastefully. It wasn't that the breakfast was foul, it was the fact that she wasn't very hungry.

There was another knock at the door and Heather lifted the tray up with her, convinced that the landlady had returned.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Dewey. I'm just not hungry this morning..." she said apologetically as she opened the door, but it wasn't the landlady. It was Sirius.

"You're not hungry?" He frowned. "But us avid Quidditch spectators need to fill up on breakfast before we go to watch a match!"

"Sirius! What are you doing here?" She tried to sound as if she hadn't expected him but her voice just came out wooden.

"You know perfectly well what I'm doing here! I'm taking you to the Quidditch match." He pushed open the door a bit further and walked in. "Oh! You're dressed!" he complained and Heather blushed bright red. "I wonder what's brought this on..." he teased.

"Err... I felt like getting up earlier today." she squeaked and he smirked.

"It hasn't got anything to do with the fact that you knew I was coming, then."

"No, no. Of course not." Her protests sounded false to her own ears and, as she turned around to put the tray back down, she heard him snort.

Turning back to face him, she frowned. "And who said I wanted to go to another Quidditch match with you? Last time, I got covered in ice cream..."

"You started that." He cut in.

"...and I almost got ravished!" She tried to come up with a suitable reason not to go and ended up sounding like an old pruney prude.

Sirius raised one eyebrow, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Believe me, Heather, you'd know if I was ravishing you..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she blushed again. "But I promise solemnly not to kiss you if you come to the Quidditch game with me." He held his hand over his heart and straightened his face.

Shame... Heather's traitorous heart protested and Heather pinkened as if it had said it aloud.

"Err... well, ok then. As long as you've promised..."

"I do solemnly swear on my own life." His face was perfectly serious but his pale eyes still danced.

"Hm..." Heather didn't completely trust him but accepted his offer anyway.

"Come on then!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the door.

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It was soon the Quidditch final and for all of the matches in the World Cup, Sirius and Heather had followed the same pattern – he'd pick her up, they'd go and watch the match and then they would go have something to eat. This time though it was different...

Florence had warned Sirius that something bad was going to happen. She had noticed that Severus' dark mark had been itching all morning, which meant Voldemort was trying to call his Death Eater's into service.

Sirius turned up at Heather's door slightly late and Heather opened the door with a bright smile that faded when she saw the look on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Sirius just shook his head. "I don't think I'm going to be able to take you to the Quidditch match today." He avoided looking into her eyes and Heather began to get worried.

She touched his shoulder. "Why?" she asked gently.

Sirius looked down at her, his pale eyes clouded with worry. "It's Florence..."

Heather's heart dropped a mile. He wasn't still in love with her, was he? She thought desperately. Then, another thought struck her. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," he sighed.

"Tell me, Sirius," she pleaded.

"Well... Snape's arm has been burning all morning, which means that Voldemort is trying to call his Death Eater's to him. And he could only do that if he was..."

"...alive? Voldemort has risen again!" Heather's voice was panicked.

"Florence and Snape think that something is going to happen at the Quidditch match today and... I don't want you to be there. You might get hurt."

Although she was glad Sirius felt protective towards her, Heather tried to be sensible. "And if Voldemort has risen again, then all the more reason for me to be there. I could help!"

Sirius knew that she wouldn't not go without a fight and he tried to think of a way to hurt her, to make her stay. "What help would you be?" he asked derisively. "A Charms researcher? Voldemort would kill you in an instant."

Pain showed for a second in Heather's cornflower-blue eyes before she hid it in anger. "I was the top at charms in my year, you know that. And, I was exceptionally good at duelling."

Sirius frowned. "That's not the point. You'd get knocked over with just a small spark from Voldemort's wand. There is really no point in you being there. You'll just get yourself and other people killed in the process."

Heather bristled, unsure why he was acting this way, but not particularly caring. If he wanted to act like an arrogant prat, it was his decision!

"Either way, I'm still going!"

"You're being stupid now." Sirius made his lip curl so she would believe him, but inside he was ashamed at his behaviour, though it was the only way to make her listen. "But, as I can't stop you, I'll just leave you here to ponder your last minutes on Earth. Enjoy yourself." He opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Heather sank down on the bed, tears filling her eyes. She knew she had to go... Voldemort was so evil; he'd kill everyone... all those people...

She stood up and grabbed her wand, sliding it into her pocket. She checked her face in the mirror and left the room in a hurry, going to the Quidditch stadium. She was going whether he liked it or not!

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Heather had made her way to her seat in record time. She would sit through this game whether Sirius liked it or not! Besides, it looked as though it was a false alarm.

There was a sudden burst of noise and Heather jumped, her eyes panickedly trying to find the source. Voldemort was standing in the middle of the centre circle, his face smiling in grotesque triumph. It wasn't long before his Death Eaters apparated to him, surrounding him in a protective circle.

Heather tried to get up, to get down onto the field but she couldn't move. Her limbs felt numb, heavy and impossible to work. He'd cursed the crowd, she realised in terror.

Sirius had been right; she was no help at all. She could only sit and watch as Voldemort and his Death Eaters dispatched the thousands of people who were sat in the stands.

As her mind dissolved into panic, she spotted Snape making his way onto the field, followed closely by Florence. Heather's heart was in her mouth; she was going to get killed and in front of her eyes! Snape seemed to be challenging Voldemort to a duel; both men (if you could call Voldemort a man) had their wands out and they were pointing them at each other. Until... no!

Voldemort had aimed a curse at Florence and she flew through the air, landing on the pitch with a crack that echoed through the eerily silent stadium. Heather would have gasped if she could move her lips but was only capable of feeling great pain course through her. Her best friend was dead...

She watched Snape pause before getting hit with a curse that threw him in the direction of Florence, but he got up. He sent a curse in Voldemort's direction.

Nothing seemed to work – Voldemort just seemed to deflect the curses without even trying. Snape would die before this hour was done. And then the crowd would be next…

Then, she noticed some people walking out onto the pitch – what sort of morons would walk out into a trap made by Voldemort? she thought, but immediately regretted it as she saw Albus Dumbledore.

He would save them!

He was joined by three other people, and very odd looking people too. Another old man, who was dressed in custard robes, with a pipe tucked in the top pocket; a middle-aged lady with an electric-socket perm and rainbow-coloured robes; and a younger, handsome man with sandy hair and forest green robes. How Dumbledore thought that these people would stop Voldemort was unclear.

As soon as they arrived, they relieved Severus of his duty so that he could rush to Florence. Once Heather saw them apparate, she felt a bit calmer. Not knowing where Sirius was was also causing her grief.

Heather didn't know exactly what Dumbledore's gang did to stop Voldemort, but they seemed to surround him and all direct the same curse at him at the same time. They must have been very strong wizards and witches for it to work.

As soon as Voldemort was dispatched, Ministry Officials dashed in and imprisoned the Death Eaters, though some managed to escape.

It was over…

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When the stadium had finally been evacuated and many people were vowing never to come to a Quidditch World Cup again, Heather sat down on a bench, her legs giving way in suffering. She knew she should go and see if Florence was ok, but, if her friend was dead, as she feared, she didn't want to know. Tears filled Heather's eyes as she dwelled on her friend's tragic end. Florence didn't deserve an end like that; she deserved to die when she was old, with friends and family surrounding her, not at the hands of an evil wizard like Voldemort. Tears streamed down Heather' face.

"Heather? Oh, Heather..."

Sirius kneeled down beside the bench. His face level with hers, he looked deeply into her tear-filled eyes before drawing her into his embrace.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. It's all over now..." he whispered into her hair but she couldn't stop the racking sobs that shook her body.

"Florence... is... dead..." she managed.

"No... She's still alive. She's unconscious, but still alive," he soothed. "Snape apparated her back to Hogwarts so they can find out how to revive her. She'll wake up. I know she will," he avowed determinedly as if he was trying to make himself believe it.

"She's... not... dead?" Heather asked and looked into his eyes to make sure he wasn't lying.

Sirius shook his head slowly and Heather cried in relief, leaving a wet patch on his shoulder.

When she finally lifted his head, she rubbed her hand over the patch, trying to dry it. He held her hand still with his.

"It's ok. You don't have to do that."

"But... I made it wet," she protested. "Oh, Sirius... what would I do without you?"

Sirius smiled slightly and looked straight into her deep blue eyes, still filled with tears. "I don't know. What would you do?" he teased a little and it brought a wobbly smile to her face.

"I don't know. I should have listened to you – you were right about Voldemort… about everything!"

"No, I wasn't. I was wrong to say all those things. I just didn't want you to come, just in case…" Sirius paused, a hollow look in his eyes. "Well, I've lost too many friends already."

"I know…"

"And, if I lost another, I don't know what I would do…" He seemed to shake himself out of his melancholy a little, hiding it under a smiling façade. "Come on, I'll take you back to your room."

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Authors' Notes:

Thanks to everyone who read this chapter. I (Squirrel) personally don't think it's up to my usual standard but I promise that it will get better in the future (I hope!)

Special thanks to:

Elysia Astraea: I like those sort of stories too – I guess that's why we're writing one! I wanted to write something a little different from all the rest of the fanfictions and I am glad you think I have achieved that.

Drachenaugen: Wow! You've been checking every day? That really makes me smile! Not as much as having Sirius wake me up in the morning, but very close!

Mrs Moony: Thanks for your nice words! When I first started posting this story, I planned to update every Friday, but since then Martha and I have moved out of home and into University accommodation – a place where we do not have internet access! We have to walk half-an-hour to post! I try and update now when I can, which will be at least once every fortnight. I'm sorry it's not more frequent.

Please keep reading and reviewing! J

Love from,

Martha and Squirrel. xxx.