[a/n: My most sincere apologies on this chapter coming much later than expected!! I've been really busy working this summer so I haven't had any time to sit down and write. But now here I am, along with the next chapter! throws confetti and blows on a noise maker Yay for the end of the procrastination period!]
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but I DO own a sword! Sue me at your own risk. .
Chapter 5: A Slip Up
"Miss Woods, the library is closing now. You need to be heading back to your dormitory."
Claire was sitting at a table in the back corner of the library, pouring over a great quantity of books having to do with time travel and changing the course of events in the past. She wanted to make sure she didn't do anything wrong. Screwing up the lives of these characters would not only destroy her, but all of the millions of other readers she was changing the book for. She felt obligated not to let them down.
"Woods! OUT!!" Madam Pince shouted, dangling a lantern over Claire's head.
"Sorry, ma'am," Claire apologized, taking the lantern along with an armful of the books and heading back towards the Gryffindor Tower.
The countless occasions that the trio had been out of bed after hours wandering around aimlessly down the dark corridors did not do the true experience justice. Claire had to admit she was fairly intimidated by the shadows cast down from the giant statues and suits of armor, and the way the torch light danced along the walls gave her a start every now and then. But it was really the ghosts that creeped her out. It was really something when you were walking down a practically pitch dark corridor, searching for a tapestry and trying not to be caught by a teacher or evil caretaker, and suddenly a transparent, glittering silver person flew out of the wall directly to your right. But eventually she found her way to Sir Cadogan's frame and muttered the password, thinking of sitting by the fireside to read some more.
But no sooner had she entered the common did she start thinking about exiting it quickly.
"What do you MEAN she won't let you play, Potter?!"
"You heard me the first time, Oliver!"
The entire Gryffindor quidditch team was standing in the middle of the common room, not troubling to keep their voices down as an argument brewed between Captain and Seeker. Claire stood just inside the portrait hole, clutching her books and watching with wide eyes. A horribly sick feeling mulled over her. She didn't remember Wood and Harry getting into a fight...
"I don't get it, Harry!" Angelina Johnson said in a terribly strained voice. "Why didn't she just get Hooch to watch us while we practiced?! Hell, McGonagall could watch us while we practice if she's that worried!"
"It's not like it's the end of training," Harry explained, sounding as if he didn't even believe his own words. "I mean, you lot can still practice—"
"And what's the good of training without a full team?!" Wood exploded.
"It's not my fault, Wood! You think I asked for this?!" Harry exclaimed.
Suddenly Claire felt a tap on her shoulder. Bethany had worked her way around the edge of the room to talk to her.
"I don't mean to use your extensive knowledge of events to my advantage," Bethany began, "but would you mind telling me what's going on?"
"I have no idea!" Claire said, feeling hysterical. "I don't remember this happening! Harry is supposed to play in the match on Saturday, Madam Hooch is supposed to watch the team while practice is going on, and he's not supposed to develop that 'oh-woe-is-me' attitude until book five! Here, hold these—"
She handed Bethany the large stack of books and whipped out The Prisoner of Azkaban once again to the bookmark she had fashioned in the proper place. But as the book opened, she let out a short gasp of surprise.
"It's changing!" she whispered. "The words are changing!"
With every word that was passed between the Quidditch players the sentences printed on the page were rearranging themselves. Harry's feelings of guilt, worry, and anger were also being described. Claire just didn't understand it! She hadn't changed anything yet, there was no way this should be happening! She hadn't even spoken to Harry yet, after all...
The color drained from her face as she flipped back a few pages to Harry and Professor McGonagall's previous conversation, the one she had overheard on her way out to the Quidditch pitch. Her eyes were wide as she read the revised conversation:
"Hmm..." Professor McGonagall stood up and began to make her way over to the window, when suddenly she paused. Harry stopped too and turned around in his seat. He had just heard footsteps heading away from just beyond the door.
"You see what I mean now, Potter?" McGonagall exclaimed, drawing her wand and opening the door. "Everything around the castle is acting unpredictably. Goodness knows I'd like to bring the Cup back to Gryffindor this year, but I'm not willing to risk your life to do it! That was probably Black...I must go inform the headmaster at once!"
Claire stopped reading there. Here hands were shaking as Bethany read over her shoulder. They had heard her! Something as simple as eavesdropping on an innocent conversation had changed the course of events for the entire week! And now she'd just made it even more difficult for Sirius, seeing as McGonagall had gone to inform the headmaster of the footsteps she had heard.
"This is my fault!" Claire murmured to her friend. After another moment of thought, she turned to head out of the portrait hole once again. "I have to fix this!"
And before Bethany could stop her she was flying down the corridor, off in search of the staff room.
"Professor McGonagall!" Claire banged on the door of the staff room, bouncing around on the balls of her feet. "Professor, are you in—"
"Good heavens, Woods, are you trying to wake up the entire castle?" Professor McGonagall said, opening the door a bit and revealing Professors Flitwick and Snape inside, sitting at a card table shuffling the cards of an Exploding Snap game. Claire would have laughed at the scene, three professors gambling over a game of cards, except she had a mission she needed to complete.
"I'm sorry, Professor, it's just I needed to explain something," Claire said, looking around McGonagall at the two other curious teachers. "Could we talk out here?"
"You will explain your reasons for being out of bed after hours presently, before I give you a few good reasons to get back to the dormitories," the stern woman replied.
Claire gulped. "Professor, you can't keep Harry Potter from practicing! It wasn't Sirius Black outside your office this afternoon—it was me. I overheard you saying something about Sirius Black and, like everyone else, I was eager to hear about any other details and—Professor, don't punish Harry because of me. Let him practice, please!"
Professor McGonagall looked astonished. Her eyebrows were slightly narrowed and her mouth was but a thin line. Claire desperately wished she had behaved herself in her class that morning, maybe her punishment would have been lessened?
"I did not think it was Sirius Black outside my office, Woods," the teacher said, "I realized my extreme moment of paranoia upon reaching the headmaster's office to inform him of the footsteps. However, I am shocked that you would do such as thing as to spy on a private conversation between a teacher and pupil, especially Harry Potter. As if his life isn't posted around enough as it is, you had to eavesdrop on such an occasion as this? Miss Woods, I'm horrified by your actions. I'm awarding this with a detention. Now get back to your dormitory, I already inform Madam Hooch to oversee the practices of the Gryffindor team."
With a head hanging low and a muttered, "Yes, professor," Claire headed back to Gryffindor Tower, slightly relieved that she didn't cause too much damage.
Surprising herself, Claire managed to stay out of any major trouble until Saturday. For the remainder of that week she had been entranced with her studies, working hard and trying to get back on Professor McGonagall's good side. She also spent long hours reading over different cases in which wizards had changed the course of time and pondering over what she should do once the quidditch match finally rolled around.
Walking down the corridor on the way back from a particularly difficult Charms lesson while the rain splashed against the castle walls outside, Claire overheard a familiar voice coming from near the Defense Against the Dark Arts room.
"I've got to scrub the bed pans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" Ron was shouting angrily. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"
Claire laughed out loud. She knew Sirius would have been all too happy to finish Snape off, regardless of the circumstances.
"What's so funny?" Bethany asked, walking along beside her and stuffing a quill into her pocket.
"Nothing," Claire replied. "Ron just got a detention for sticking up for Hermione...ahh I would have loved to watch that lesson. Him and Hermione are meant for each other, you know."
"Whatever you say," Bethany replied, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and you were right about the team getting switched—we're playing Hufflepuff tomorrow. Could you tell me who's going to win? I'd like to place a bet, if you know..."
Claire laughed, "Well I know who wins in here," she tapped on the book, "but I'm going to try and change it. So your guess is as good as mine."
That night Claire was the last one in the common room, sitting there with The Prisoner of Azkaban in her lap, thinking. She was going to go and talk to Sirius tomorrow at the game, but she needed something to take with her so that he'd know he could trust her. But what? Nothing in the trunk could possibly help her here, unless those rusty keys were meant for something like this...
She felt something fluffy rub up against her leg and looked down. There was Crookshanks, purring and looking for a little attention. Bingo!
"Wow, I'm stupid!" Claire said, picking up the ginger ball of fluff and stroking it lovingly. "You can come with me to the match tomorrow! Padfoot knows you by now I think, and if not I'll introduce you! What do you say to that?"
He purred in reply. A clock chimed somewhere. Four AM. That meant...
"Harry's about to come downstairs!" she said, looking down at the book. "I better get going, Crookshanks, I'll see you tomorrow. Try and eat that rat before then, it'd make my job so much easier..."
And as she closed the door of her dormitory and dropped onto her four-poster, Harry kicked Crookshanks down the stairs saying, "There are plenty of mice around this place—go chase them. Go on! Leave Scabbers alone..."
"We're going to get soaked out here!" Ginny commented.
"That's what usually happens when it rains, Gin," Bethany replied, rubbing her hands together under the large umbrella they were seated under.
Claire wasn't paying them any attention, she had her ominoculars pressed up to her eyes, looking around in search of dementors, a great shaggy black dog, and trying to take in all the quidditch at once. It was a shame that the first match she had to see had to be the only one Harry ever lost, not to mention the one with the worst weather imaginable. Seeing nothing, she set the ominoculars down in her lap, slipped on her gloves, and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. Crookshanks was sitting under her seat, hissing at the state of his fur and awaiting Claire's instructions on finding Sirius.
"There you are, Ginny!" Hermione called, closely followed by Ron.
Claire felt her pulse quicken. She had forgotten that Ron and Hermione would probably be sitting with Ginny. This was not a good thing, since she'd "borrowed" Hermione's pet without asking.
"They're starting!" Bethany exclaimed suddenly, squinting through the sheets of rain. "At least...I think they are..."
"They are," Claire answered, zooming in with her ominoculars in time to see the two captains shake hands. "WOW! That's Cedric Diggory?! Whoa...no wonder Cho was so depressed...maybe I'll think about hating her a little less..."
"He's very good-looking," Bethany agreed with a sigh. "Let me use those for a minute, I wanna see!"
"I'm not looking for Diggory, you moron! There are more pressing issues to deal with!"
The quaffle was thrown into the air and the stands erupted with cheers. Angelina took off with it, racing up the field while Fred Weasley knocked a Hufflepuff Chaser out of her path with a bludger.
"Brilliant!" she whispered to herself.
It was quite an absurd match. The players kept running into each other, blinded by the rain. Harry was having a particularly difficult time with his glasses fogging up.
"He can't see a thing!" Hermione said after watching fifteen minutes of this through her own pair of binoculars. "He'll never catch the Snitch!"
And with that she headed off down the stands to fix the problem.
"Hermione?! Where are you going?!" Ron shouted down the row. "Jeez, sometimes she's such a—"
"DUCK!!!!" Claire shouted, diving to the ground.
A Hufflepuff and Gryffindor beater were flying forward too fast, unable to see where they were going. They crashed into each other with a sickening crunch, falling off their brooms and into the stands. In all this confusion, Claire managed to slip away with Crookshanks darting just ahead of her, having been scared by Fred's club landing on his tail.
Walking into the next set of stands, she pulled out her ominoculars and turned towards the highest row of empty seats.
"Gotcha," she said, freezing the picture and running up the stands.
Shivering with a mixture of cold and excitement, she climbed around the empty seats. The rain became her friend at that point—he couldn't see her. Crookshanks jumped onto the seat beside him and he looked up.
"Hello, Padfoot," Claire said.
[a/n: DUN DUN DAAAAAAAaaa!! What is Claire going to say to Sirius? Is it even possible to help Harry win the match now? Now that the author made this chapter so much longer than the others, does she have your forgiveness for not updating? Well the last question is up to you, but everything else will be answered. Much thanks for reading, a multitude of thanks if you review! ]