Title: Fireworks
Author: Emmylou
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters and concepts, are the creation of JK Rowling.
Rating: PG
Summary: Angelina and Fred's relationship is tested when they travel to Egypt on business for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
A/N: Again, thanks to all my wonderful reviewers!
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In the middle of the gigantic ring was a large rope ladder leading up to a platform that was floating at the same level as their seats.
"I wouldn't like to be standing on that!" Angelina shouted over the crowd.
"You would!" laughed Donkor. "If you stand on that you have won a thousand Galleons!"
"That's the prize for winning?" whistled Fred. "Nice."
"Why's it called The Granddaughter?" asked Angelina.
Mrs. Donkor pointed to the platform as the flyers looped around it in gracefully. "Nobody knows the identity of 'The Grandfather'" she said. "He began the race six years ago. It was so popular the city had to take over to stop Muggles seeing. They made it an official sport, and in exchange they take most of the revenue, except the prize of course. They make much money – but I suppose they need it to pay for all the Anti-Muggle protection."
"So the Granddaughter is a person too?"
"Oh yes," said Mrs. Donkor. "His Granddaughter sets the course – she races ahead of the flyers and tries to loose them. The winner is the person who catches her. The broom she flies is a Portkey – she and the winner appear on the stage as soon as somebody touches her."
"So she's like a great big snitch?" asked Fred.
"Ha! No snitch flies like her!" said Donkor. "People think she must just be a little girl – she was tiny when the race began. She must be teenage still."
"Can anyone play then?" demanded Fred.
"Yes, it's five Galleons to enter the ring. You need a broom."
"So regular people play then?" saidd Angelina.
Donkor laughed. "All the time – they don't win often though. Maybe once in six months. It's the well known stars who win – the Quidditch players and professional flyers. My money is on Killistine to win tonight, he's been close for three weeks now."
The noise was louder than ever, people around them were shouting at the top of their lungs.
"Why do people play then?" she bellowed.
"It's like a marathon – normal people don't win, but you can at least say you took part!" said one of the brothers.
The crowd was gearing up; clearly the beginning wasn't far away. Angelina looked down to the ground where last minute entries were queuing to get a number.
Before she knew what she was doing she was rooting in her bag for her purse and her broom.
"Thank Merlin I remembered to bring it!" she grinned. She leaned over and kissed Fred's cheek. "Wish me luck!"
She wriggled out of her seat as Fred and the Donkor family all began talking at once.
"You can't be thinking of entering! You've never evenseen the show before!"
"I already haveten Galleons on Killistine!" moaned one of the brothers.
"What about your knee?" demanded Fred. "And your ban?"
Angelina shouted back triumphantly, backing away from them. "It's only in effect in England - and if I'm going to be banned, I'm going out in style!" She pushed her way out of the box and into the stairway.
As she left sight of the box she heard Fred's determined chant of "An-gel! An-gel! An-gel!" and grinned.
ooo
She was one of the last to get in; a bored looking wizard dumped her money into a bucket and slapped a number on her back. He noted down her name without any enthusiasm, and gestured for her to take flight.
Angelina leapt aboard her faithful 57 Levy and pushed off the ground. It was wonderful, the air was cool, she put aside any thoughts of what would happen next, she joined pushed forward to join the tail of the swarm and swooped with them. She took in every view of the crowd from every angle, took dips and rolls harder than necessary. This might be her last flight, and it was going to be marvellous.
A huge klaxon noise sounded and the huge swarm suddenly separated. Angelina was jolted back to earth for a moments as she realised she didn't know what to do. The air was thick with fliers, but she saw a pattern emerging. They were creating a circle around the platform. She flew into a nearby space as they all hung, watching, as a man made slow progress up the rope ladder.
He finally reached the top and stood in the centre of the small circle, turning around to survey the fliers and the crowd.
He tapped his throat with his wand, clearly performing a Sonorous spell, and his voice boomed out to much cheering from both the crown and the participants. He was portly and his hair was grey. He wore robes that fitted him like a badly made suit, and his face was totally hidden by a mask of a cheeky face old man. He could have been anyone, but he was clearly The Grandfather.
She couldn't understand a word of what he was saying, but the sound of his voice made it clear he was introducing someone.
It seemed every eye in the stadium looked down. A slip of a girl bounded into the ring and began climbing the rope speedily as the crowd roared her name. She didn't know what they were saying exactly but she would bet money that it was "Granddaughter".
The girl climbed through the hatch, and Angelina got her first good look at her. She wasn't as small as she seemed, and her features were certainly womanly now. Her clothes were gold as though she really were a giant Snitch. She wore gold trousers and a gold bra covered in a hazy shimmering top. Her face was concealed by a gold mask, which covered her eyes, and her hair was wrapped in a shimmering scarf. She looked more like a trapeze-artist than a professional flyer.
She picked up an old fashioned broom from where it had gently been floating on the platform, and she waved to the crowd. There was cheering and wolf-whistling and shreiks.
The Grandfather began speaking again as the girl climbed astride her broom and looked up as though checking the sky.
Once again she didn't know what the man was saying, but all at once it must have been "Go!"
The girl shot upwards like a cork out of a bottle and with her so did every other flyer, after her like she were the fox at the hunt.
Angelina's first thought was a swearword, but the words amazing flyer followed soon after, the girl was speeding into the night, still uncaught, and Angelina kicked her broom into gear before she was left behind.
The crowd stretched out below her as she accelerated. People were swerving and moving all around her and she had lost total sight of The Granddaughter. She could only hope that the people in front of her could see.
They were high now. If this girl was going to make things difficult she was going to drop soon – once they were at street level it would be impossible for the entire group to go after her at once. That would separate them from the fliers who would win and those who were doing it just because they'd got a new broom and a chance was a chance.
She pushed down hard and fought through the crowd to get low, zooming towards the ground so she could look up, and she was rewarded with a glimpse of gold at the very front. The Grandfather, who seemed to be commentating, must have noticed her strange actions, because the crowd seemed to be pointing and calling to her. She flew almost leisurely, keeping the glimpse of gold in sight but not wasting energy on chasing until The Granddaughter made a move.
She was no seeker, but she was a decent flier. And chasers had to be quick or they lost points. She remembered words from training sessions with Harry – don't think about where it's likely to be – keep an eye out for it and react as soon as you see it.
There! The girl dropped. The fliers at the front could do no more that make a slow swoop after her, but Angelina wasn't caught up in the bulk. She pushed her broom as hard as she'd ever flown it, diving into some dirty alley and served along through broken down stalls.
Children, their faces pressed against the window, cheered and waved as she passed houses and flats. Angelina waved back, feeling momentarily elated by the attention.
"- Johnson!"
The echoing sound of her name brought her mind back onto the task. The Grandfather must have got hold of her name and for a second she could almost imagine the crowd chanting her name…
Suddenly the road she was on became dark, they were in the shady streets, so tightly packed and out of the way that the lamps were not lit and Angelina cursed as the girl ahead took a sharp turn to the left and promptly disappeared.
She turned the way the girl had gone – but she was greeted only with empty street. What kind of broom was it that could pass through an entire street in less than a second?
Flyers had spread out in the sky above Angelina– all searching for that telltale hint of gold. Several had seen Angelina's close brush and headed in the same direction, but down in the shadowy alley they couldn't see her.
Where would the girl have gone? She would not have wanted to be caught so early in the game – first rule of professional Quidditch that was – never catch the Snitch too early, give the punters their money's worth. This girl was probably teasing it out until she could draw a player back into the stadium for a heart-pounding final chase.
If she had managed to fly the full length of the alleyway Angelina would have almost certainly seen her broom-tails as she swerved into the maze of streets ahead. But there was something, well, magical about this girl. Your mind told you she was just a decent flyer in a silly outfit, but it suddenly seemed possible that she could do anything. She seemed smaller and impish; Lolita in flight. The mask made her into a mythical creature; made her something that everyone seemed to worship. Even the most famous Quidditch star could only snap at this girl's heels.
"She's just a girl", Angelina whispered to herself. "As human as me. What would I do?"
Angelina scrutinised the alley, along one side were a ramshackle row of broken down market stalls, the other was packed with doorways of pressed together houses. Above Angelina were rows of washing, hanging on shared lines.
Was it that simple?
She drifted upwards, slipping in between washing lines, using the sheets as cover. She was hidden and had a perfect view of the stalls that she was now convinced The Granddaughter was hiding behind.
It took only moments for The Granddaughter to think Angelina had left and slip out from where she was crouched. She carried her broom in one hand and as she tiptoed along the cobbles Angelina caught a glimpse of her gold mask as she peered up as the flyers overhead. Angelina was unseen in the shadows of the washing. All she had to do was swoop down and snatch the girl's wrist and she would appear, victorious, on that wooden platform.
An-gel! An-gel! An-gel!
A hand clapped against her mouth. It was hot and reeked of cigarettes. A bear-like man had been behind the sheet she was closest too. His own legs were tightly wrapped around his broom to keep him steady, and his right arm enveloped her in threatening one armed hug. His arm pressed hers to her sides and his left hand pressed against her mouth. She was pinned against him, unable to wriggle free.
Killistine?
"You will not win," he hissed against her ear. His breath smelled of cigarettes too.
Of course not, she thought. Even here, she could never been judged on her flying ability alone. She wasn't a star like he was, she wasn't meant to win.
If there was a god of flyers, she cursed him now.
Regulations and councils! Even in a game that streaked along the streets of Cairo there had to be rules and precedents. A nobody girl was not supposed to win. The crowd wanted Killistine; they'd bought flags with his face on. Only the stars won because they were what people wanted.
Killistine be damned! She had tracked down The Granddaughter. She had had her in her sights. She was going to win because this was her only chance.
He hand was big his salty flesh was pressed hard to her mouth. She bit down, hard.
Angelina had two brothers and a sister; she knew the difference between a playful bite and one that would need a trip to St. Mungo's. If she'd bit any harder she'd of had to spit his flesh out.
Killistine roared. He snatched his hand back and practically pushed her off her broom. Angelina slipped and had to drop down quickly to get out of his way and to scramble back aboard.
She had practically heard The Granddaughter's gasp as she realised how close the players were. Angelina had to follow her now otherwise she'd loose her completely.
The girl streaked out of the street. Angelina pushed forward out into the bright streets again. She didn't need to see The Granddaughter to know where she had gone – people leaned out of widows to wave and cheer after her. Angelina followed the sea of arms and tear-streaked faces.
Angelina could see her target ahead of her, so far away that she really did seem the size of a Snitch.
Killistine, bellowing insults, was close behind her.
The girl sensed the end was near; she was leading the way back to the stadium for an impressive end where everyone could see – it was just a matter of who got there first.
She wasn't the only flyer heading back to the stadium. As she ducked and weaved through narrow and short streets she saw others beating their way back in the same direction. It might just come down to a race to see whose broom was faster…
Forget the streets, she decided. It was like being trapped in a maze and slowing her down as she had to react to every breakneck turn. She urged her broom up. The crowd 'ah'ed after her. She arched over the houses and dove forward to the centre of the stadium.
There was a clatter as another broom forced its handle against hers. Killistine was next to her, driving her to the side as they hurtled downwards.
If she fell now…the crowd would go wild. They wanted entertainment and blood would only make it more exciting – at least until the adrenalin wore off. It was as bloodthirsty as any Roman game.
The ground was rising up. If she fell now…
She crashed her handle back into Killistine's. Her broom was better and the distraction let her move forward enough to see The Granddaughter. She was inches away…is this what it felt like to be a seeker?
Her broom cracked, Angelina felt herself being tossed from it. The ground was coming up faster and harder than before. Killistine had smashed his broom into her tail, changing the course out from underneath her.
She only had once chance. Win or die.
She leapt.
The broom fell away. For one brief second she was hurtling downwards.
There were two grunts of pain as she grabbed the only solid thing left. The Granddaughter.
The jerk of the Portkey was almost comforting. Then she landed on the platform. It was so much better than being back on solid ground.
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Sorry for making you wait for this chapter – it gave me a little trouble. I'd really love to know what you think.