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Chapter Twelve: Quidditch And Misfortune
"But Master, I don't even like Quidditch." Hermione looked up towards her Master from where she sat upon the floor, casually folding one of his t-shirts as she spoke.
"I don't care Granger; I want you there watching me! Do you understand?" He said bitterly from his bed as he lay staring up at the canvas above him, not wanting to digress the true reason for his adamant request of her. 'No way I'm having her run off for a day with Vikky, she's my bloody slave, not his. Not after last night.' He thought sourly, snarling rather involuntarily in her direction, noting her withdrawn and obviously irritated look as she straightened her back and continued her folding, oblivious to his growing hate of the boy she had come to care for so much, still unable to wipe the image that his mind had captured of her the previous night before Harry had dragged him back to their tower. She had never complained when going with Carla to watch Harry play in previous years, despite the trips being very frequent, even watching through his practices with apparent fascination. Yet now she was astringent about coming along with her own Master, even preferring to stay behind and scrub the floors until her arms fell off. He sat seething; running through his mind all the reasons as to why she would not want to see him play as Gryffindor Keeper, not want to watch him in his important role as a part of the team.
"Who are you playing?" Came her small voice, snapping Ron out of his inward rant, lifting his head up slightly to look at her. She was blushing a little, obviously trying to sound interested, to which he took full advantage,
"Slytherin. It's a big game. We have to leave in a minute anyway."
"I see. You'll have to be good then." He suddenly sprang to his feet, snatching up broom angrily, stomping his way towards the door,
"I AM good Granger! So get moving." AS he put his hand upon the door ready to yank it open, her voice made him suddenly stop, listening to her intently.
"Wait..." He turned to face her as she placed the clothes upon his bed carefully, and then stood but a foot from him, "Um..." He looked at her impatiently, tapping his foot a little, "Since I can't later, er..." She took one of his hands in both of her own, seemingly only able to look at it, which he was grateful for as his ears turned scarlet, "Good luck." She gave a sudden large exhale and dropped his hand, looking now to the floor, waiting for him to make the next move. He suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable, unsure of what he should do, wanting to take hold of her in gratitude, but also to reprimand her in the correct way for daring to act in such a way towards him. Instead he placed a hand upon her shoulder, watching her face turn up to him almost fearfully as he used his other hand to tilt up her chin, kissing her lightly upon the cheek, further confusing the both of them, seemingly unable to control themselves in the presence of one another, just for that one fleeting moment,
"Cheer for me, okay?"
~x~x~x~
Hermione was cold, not being happy about being outside in midwinter, even if she was obeying her Masters confusing wishes of having her with him at his opening Quidditch match. However, being of such status, she was not permitted to sit in the stands with the rest of the school, instead designated to the pitch itself, standing with a few other slaves from various houses, and both notably and surprisingly, the slave of Drace Malfoy, who Hermione had never spoken to, only knowing the strong looking boy as Stewart Ackerley, who had once been in Ravenclaw, but had transferred to Slytherin to work under his new Master. The boy scared her slightly, towering above her easily, and she chose to stand away from him by a small Hufflepuff girl, who was trembling from the cold. Hermione gave a quick look about herself and then removed her scarf, disbanding the fact that it was red and gold and offered it out to the girl, "Here. You won't last much longer if you don't get warm." She smiled gratefully up at Hermione, reminding her of how Carla had smiled at her the first time they had interacted with one another, knowing that she had indeed done the right thing.
"Thankyou. I'm very grateful." The girl bowed her head low and Hermione gave a small nod, now fully intent of being alert for her Masters game. She watched as Madam Hooch stepped out towards the now gathered players, speaking to the teams as a collective, though she could not fully hear as to what. As a loud whistle sounded the balls were released high into the air, the players shooting upwards, watching her Master streak off towards his three defending hoops. She had often wondered if he was good at Quidditch, never truly watching him play, only having to deal with the aftermath of his rigorous training sessions, seeing him play now truly for the first time with the rest of the school as he made his debut.
"And it's Johnson! Johnson with the Quaffle!" She heard their commentator, her fellow Gryffindor Lee Jordan, blast out over the stadium, beginning his insightful and rather amusing take upon the game at hand, much to the distaste of Professor McGonagall who interrupted him profusely after every one of his inane comments to 'add interest'. The crowd around her were booing, yelling and singing as loudly as they could, almost drowning out the ringing of Lee's commentary as it reverberated through the stands, "The crowds are loving this! What's that they're singing?" He paused momentarily to let the voices rise loud and clear from a sea of green a silver as the Slytherin's melody filtered out into the open pitch,
"Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King." Hermione's eyes widened in shock, turning around to look at the stand behind her, feeling humiliated in herself for her Master, unable to comprehend how he himself must be feeling. It was ridiculous enough that there was segregation between the Muggleborns and everyone else, but between those who were left, those who were acceptable to wizarding society was absolutely ludicrous. Hermione knew there had long been rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and even more so between her Master and Master Malfoy, due to her Master's family being considered Bloodtraitors by some, but to openly mock him, especially in the presence of slaves, was unheard of before. She felt herself flush bright red, turning back towards the goalposts, trying desperately to concentrate on the game at hand, her insides boiling at what she had heard as Lee heightened the volume his voice in an attempt to overcome their mocking chants,
"Come on now Angelina! Looks like she's just got the keeper to beat!" Hermione watched as Mistress Johnson made her shot and missed horrendously as Bletchly, the Slytherin keeper intercepted it with blinding precision, throwing it to his teammate, who sped off in her Masters direction. The chanting from behind her grew ever louder as he sped towards Ron, leaving Hermione praying for him,
'Please. Somebody stop him. Please. Please.' She clasped her hands together, watching the lone figure of her Master, paling as a great swell of song wafted from the stands, 'Please Ron, just save it! Just one!'
"So it's the first test for the new Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley, brother to Fred and George! A promising new talent on the team! Come on Ron!" Yet the shrieks of delight came only from behind her as she shut her eyes tight, seeing her Master dive widely, his arms spread out wide allowing the Quaffle to soar between them and through the central hoop.
"No!" She could barely contain herself, growing ever more stricken as the cries of 'Weasley is Our King' grew ever louder, not truly knowing within herself how she could possibly become so upset over their deafening cries, Lee barely able to make himself heard above them as the noise thundered throughout the stadium. 'Catch the snitch Master Harry,' She thought frantically, watching him pull into a steep dive, barely noticing as Viktor came up behind her, watching intently at the game above.
"Not goingz good?" She jumped, terrified as his voice penetrated through the roars of the hundreds of students still belting out their renditions of their newly acquired chorus.
"Viktor! Er...no...but he can do better! It's just nerves!" She quickly gargled, still nervously watching the Quaffle flit between the various players who were being attacked on all sides by the pounding Bludgers sent by either team racing towards them.
"I haff not said differences." Viktor raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her as she look back to him and realised that she had inadvertently compared the two men, viciously defending her Master without even meaning to.
"Um, no. I just meant, he's good. I know he is." Viktor gave a small smile as both of them returned their gazes upwards,
"That iz good then." Fresh screams suddenly erupted from behind them, reaching high into the stands as they applauded Ron ferociously, him having been taken on head first by Pucey. Hermione glanced behind her, noting that the vile pug-faced girl Pansy Parkinson had turned her back upon the game and was now conducting the rest of her house in their repeated chanting, waving her arms about wildly with a large, overbearing grin plastered upon her face. Hermione scowled up at her, longing to beat a Bludger into the back of her head for even daring to make a fool out of her Master. Yet, as he let in more goals, Gryffindors first seemed like a lost cause, making her ever more frustrated, unknowingly pushing away Viktor's hands as she inched ever neared towards the boundaries of the pitch. She could see how it was affecting her Master and making him ever more erratic, humiliated by the taunting, his confidence drained and heavily impacting upon his abilities that she had so confidently told herself that he did possess.
"Come on Harry," She breathed to herself, only audible to Viktor who was stood close behind her, "End this. Don't make him suffer any more." As soon as the words left her lips she saw him dive at the opposite end of the pitch, soon accompanied by Draco, both neck and neck as the battled for possession of the Golden Snitch that could end their game and win it for either team. A scream from the Gryffindor spectators stand signalled its finishing as Harry lifted himself back up into the air, clutching the tiny struggling ball tightly within his fist. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, wondering how she could have possibly become so stressed over such a thing and allowed herself to succumb to such irregular behaviour. Yet she gasped suddenly seeing Harry fall from his broom as a Bludger, sent by the Slytherin beater Crabbe despite the final whistle having already sounded, hit him in the small of the back, luckily being all but five feet in the air, clearly winding him. She gasped loudly and ran forwards and onto the pitch to meet Harry who was busy being led off of the pitch by Fred and George, temporarily forgetting her own Master who was sulkily making his way over towards them. Draco landed in between them, a sour smirk adorning his face as he scowled at Harry and then even more so as Hermione joined them, "Master Harry! Are you alright? Do you need anything?" Harry gave her a grateful smile and shook his head.
"Oh that's right Potter, get Weasley's bitch to sort it for you." She saw Harry stiffen slightly, desperate not to retaliate; especially now seeing as Ron had appeared behind them within earshot. "You know, We wanted to write another couple of verses. But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see…we couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know…" George made a sudden rush for Draco, but was held back tightly by Fred and Harry, Ron not moving, still apparently in shock. "But you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter? Spend holidays there and everything, don't you?" He sneered, seeing how his own smirking slave had joined their small huddle, standing beside his Master proudly, "What do you think Ackerley?"
"I can't see how he can stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley's hovel smells okay… Or perhaps, you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty shithouse reminds you of it-" Harry let go of George who overpowered Fred easier, both intent upon lamping Draco with their combined full force, only to be momentarily stalled as they all watched in amazement as an enraged Hermione's small fist connected with Ackerley's jaw, silencing him indefinitely,
"You just dares to say that about him again!" She shrieked at him as he held his now bleeding lip. She was visibly shaking, her entire arm throbbing, though she remained desperate not to show it, drawing herself to her full height, ignoring the cries from Professor McGonagall who had come streaking across the pitch, screaming at Harry and George to release Draco and to cease their assault upon him. With Fred's assistance, she succeeded in dragging them from him and set about frogmarching them from the pitch and up towards the castle,
"You too Miss Granger!" Realisation for what she had done suddenly crashed over her, silent tears falling from her eyes, looking back only once to her shell shocked Master, before following her Deputy Headmistress.
~x~x~x~
"I can't believe it." Harry sat in an armchair by the fireplace of Gryffindor Tower, Carla at his side upon the floor, Hermione with her legs drawn in tight, head rested solemnly upon them, rocking backwards and forwards.
"Banned though? All three of you? Fred wasn't even involved!" Ginny cried, almost hysterically, from the sofa which she lay upon, openly dazed.
"Well, apparently, Umbridge is the new High Inquisitor of the school! Which means that not only do we get the detentions from McGonagall, but the cow's gone and bloody nicked our brooms, banned for life! This is ridiculous, I feel crap." Harry exhaled deeply and leant his head back against the chair looking up towards the ceiling.
"Don't worry Master Harry; things will turn out okay in the end." She placed a sympathetic hand upon his knee, but he brushed her away nonchalantly,
"How Carla?" He half shouted at her, "How can it possibly get better?" She withdrew from him, a little stunned by his reaction, though seeming in herself to understand a little that he was almost grief stricken by his ban. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry Carla." She smiled up at him, knowing that her Master was both stressed and frustrated, deciding that there was really only one thing for it,
"How about a nice cup of tea?" She stood up and made for the portrait hole, "Mistress Weasley?" She received only a grunt in return from the fiery redhead and sighed, leaving them three in the silence of an emptied Common Room.
"There's still one thing I just don't get." Harry broke through the silence, throwing his head forwards again, Ginny turning herself to look at him,
"What?" She asked inquisitively, yet he only looked towards a curled Hermione, who was still rocking back and forth in a trance like state that was only broken as he spoke once more,
"Why did you do it Hermione?" She glanced up at him, suddenly stationary, looking withdrawn and gaunt, before staring at Ginny who was glaring at her, "Hermione! Answer me." She torn her eyes from Ginny and moved them towards the floor, struggling for words,
"I couldn't exactly hit Master Malfoy. And they were being cruel! Saying such things about one of their own, it's bad enough that I'm treated differently, but they will not speak about him and his family like that in front of me!" She realised that her voice had run away from her, spewing more than she should have, before she even realised what she had said. She gave a sheepish look towards Ginny, who sat staring at her, a stunned look gracing her features, the softest look she had ever given Hermione in all the years since they had first met.
"What did he say about my family?" She asked Hermione tentatively, leaving the sofa and bending down in front of her, searching her face for answers. "Hermione? What did they say?" She opened her mouth to answer, only to close it again with a deep shuddering breath before looking away and to Harry, who did not offer her any help in explaining,
"Just," She began slowly, "Just things about your parents, and your house. Things that shouldn't be said. I don't...I don't want to say..." She buried her head back into her knees, not able to see as Ginny nodded slowly and then stood up again. There was a moments more silence, only the soft thump as she sat back in her seat.
"Thank you." She whispered, a little forcedly, causing Hermione to stiffen slightly and then lift her head to peek at Ginny, almost unsure that she had heard correctly. Yet before she could even dare to ask, a bang from behind her alerted them to the arrival of her Master. Still dressed in his Quidditch Robes and armour her dropped his broom by Hermione and collapsed next to his sister.
"Master," Hermione came to his side, sitting by his knees and looking up at his blank and emotionless face.
"I'm going to quit. I should have never even imagined I could be any sort of Keeper." He stated, not an ounce of emotion evident within his voice. Hermione's jaw dropped and Harry shot up in his seat,
"You mustn't! You can't just give up!"
"She's right," Added Harry, "We've been banned, mate. We need you on the team more than ever now." Ron's face contorted in disgust and horror,
"This is quite possibly, the worst that I have ever felt."
"Maybe this is the wrong time, but I was told on the way back up here, by Dobby, that I had to tell you that Hagrid's back." Hermione said tentatively, seeing Harry's head turn in her direction
"I'm going for the cloak, we have to go and see him." With that, he left, dragging Ginny with him and out of sight up the stone staircase leading to the dormitories. The lingering couple remained motionless, not even daring to look at one another, not even as he pulled her up into his chest and resting his head upon her own, leaving her unsure of whether to hold him back or to just allow her arms to dangle freely as they currently were.
"You're so stupid Hermione." He said softly, but suddenly seemed to snap to his senses, remembering who she was to him, and pushed her away gently, "Er...don't do it again Granger." He sat back in his chair looking in every direction other than hers that he could, grateful as Harry and Ginny returned, cloak in arm and ready to leave.
"There's something we need to talk about on the way there, come on, let's go." Harry said to Ron, choosing his words extremely carefully, fully aware of Hermione's presence. Ron nodded and joined the two of them, giving Hermione one last look as they disappeared beneath the cloak, and a bang from the portrait hole signalled their exit, despite another following it and a rather happy Carla bustling in, a tray full of tea, confusedly looking about after seeing only Hermione remaining.
"They're gone."
~x~x~x~
Hermione stood open mouthed, at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, staring up at the floors above her. "Oh...my...Merlin..." The once filled walls of the castle were now bare and empty, all of its previous portrait occupants having been removed, Hermione guessing rather noisily and unwillingly. In their place hung a single small framed certificate on the first floor which Hermione had to raise upon her tiptoes and squint to see. Drinking in the information she gasped and gathered up her Masters clothes in her arms as tightly as she could rushing towards the library where she knew he would be. Crashing through the large doors and ignoring the disgusted stares of all those around her, frantically running down the various isles in search of Ron, spotting him huddled in a back corner with Harry and Neville. "Master! Master!" She cried out, earning hushing whispers from all around her, and seeing his head spring up almost in shame, beckoning her too him hurriedly. As she pounded to the table, she threw the clothes in front of him, panting heavily,
"GRANGER!" He looked around quickly and then lowered his voice considerably, "What the hell are you doing? Can't you see we're doing our Defence Against the Dark Arts theory work? Wait...are those my pants?" He blushed scarlet and began rapidly pulling them out of sight, scowling at her slightly,
"This is bigger than your pants Ronald! Besides, we've all seen them before anyway. No, this is important." She gabbled at them, almost ignoring him as she turned to Harry,
"My pants are important Granger!"
"Ronald! Will you just listen to me!" She pounded her fist down upon the table in front of him harshly, only stopping to reconsider her words at the expression etched into his face, feeling a sudden pain shoot through her head causing her to grapple with her earrings agonizingly. "Master..." She began again, strained, careful to select her words delicately, "Mistress Umbridge, an Education Degree, banning any kinds of activities not previously approved, including Quidditch!" Silence fell over them as the boys studied her carefully, unsure of whether to trust her words.
"If this is true..." Harry began slowly, "This needs addressing. First practical, now Quidditch, this can't go on. We have to sort out the DA, and now. Before it's too late." Ron nodded gravely and then seeing Neville still staring at Hermione, quickly changed the subject,
"Er, anyway, forgetting that, what about conflict avoidance and fleeing? It's always an important aspect of wizarding interactions."
"Ron...what the hell are you going on about? You hate those topics!" Harry twitched suddenly and scowled at him, rubbing his shin, "What was that for idiot?" Harry looked over to a highly confused looking Hermione, who has busy folding a pair of Ron's socks into one another, looking down towards the table and waiting for them to address her again, "Ooh. Wait! Actually, Hermione, you can do something for me can't you? I'd ask Carla, but her memory..." Both she and her Master looked confusedly at Harry, but Ron nodded his approval regardless, waiting for him to continue, "At about half eleven tonight, wait by the fire in the Common Room for me, okay? I'm expecting someone, bit I have that stupid detention for the other day first." She nodded slowly, completely mystified now,
"Er, okay..."
"Just do as you're told for once Granger." Ron said lazily, flicking his quill at the page before him, obviously struggling to even comprehend any of the symbols upon the page before him.
"Um, yes Sir. Master Harry, Master Neville." She gave small nods in their direction, before gathering her Masters things, ready to depart once more, "Oh, and Sir, I think what you're looking for is Verdimillious Tria, circular motion with a quick swipe forwards at the end." Hermione left, her back turned firmly against the three of them, who were staring amazed at her retreating figure.
~x~x~x~
Hermione sat patiently and quietly by the side of the fireplace, unsure of why she had been told to remain here in the first place, and a little uncomfortable about the visitor that Harry was expecting. A loud huffing caused her to turn around slightly, only to see Carla stood by an old bookcase, yawning widely and stretching her arms out almost to breaking point, earning several loud cracking noises from her joints. "Gaah!" She collapsed into herself hastily, huffing a little, "Ooh, haven't done that for a while!" She gave another yawn, smaller this time and then rubber her eyes a little, "What are you doing 'Mione? I was waiting in the kitchens for you for ages you know."
"Oh," Hermione began, not really wanting to digress that Harry had been the one who had given her these particular specific orders, "I was asked to sit here for a while." She smiled sheepishly as Carla came forwards and kicked off her small dolly shoes, collapsing heavily upon the sofa, dragging her apron from around her waist in one swift motion.
"What a git of a Master you have. Wait...do you hear that?" Hermione lifted her head a little, slowed her breathing and listened very carefully. A faint knocking was coming from the outside window on the opposite side of the room. "Who's outside the window?" Carla automatically assumed, clearly bamboozled as to how someone could manage to climb to such a height.
"Or what..." Hermione stood and shuffled to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of any kind of figure against the dark night sky. A white mangled mess swooped into view and she immediately threw open the window, allowing a snowy owl to swoop in and almost crash into Carla as it attempted to land next to her, making a very sloppy attempt. "Hedwig!"
"Master Harry's owl! But...what's wrong with her?" The owl seemed to be limping rather badly, an obvious splattering or blood covering a couple of feathers and the majority of her talons.
"Oh my." Hermione immediately whipped out a handkerchief that she had kept within the folds of her apron and began attempting to straighten the owl, who screeched and protested painfully and had to be clamped by Carla in order for Hermione to haphazardly bandage her. "I wonder what could have happened to her," Carla let the animal free, who hopped away lazily to perch upon the armchair, leaving the letter she had delivered by the girls side.
"Do you think someone's interfering with the post?" Hermione looked up towards Carla, carefully considering her words, not sure whether they would be able to say for certain, sure that even if it had been, they would not be able to tell, the seal no doubt repaired by magic to its original state. Her Master had often spoken of the trickery of wizards and their abilities of deception towards one another when they had assumed her not listening. She had even been persuade to steal from the Potion Master Severus Snape's private storage in her second year, all so that they could brew a potion to infiltrate the Slytherin Common Room. She always shuddered at the memory of it, remembering how she too had been forced to partake, assumingly to transform herself into a young girl of the name Millicent Bulstrode, instead finding herself half human, half cat, after a mix up with her own potion. The humiliation that she had suffered as she had been taken to the Hospital Wing to recover had been tremendous, and she vowed to never drink anything that her Master created ever again.
A sudden crackle from behind them caused her to whip around and then recoil in horror as a familiar face burst through the flames before them, hovering as if alight within them, though seemingly unharmed.
"M-Master Sirius?" She struggled to form the words in her mouth, completely unsure of what was happening and how he had come to be in front of her.
"Hermione! Carla! Where's Harry?" His voice sounded urgent, but clearly understanding of how confused such Muggleborns would be at this precise moment in time.
"He's in detention with McGonagall, fighting at the last Quidditch match. But he's been given a life ban from Umbridge. I-" She gargled out, suddenly cut off as Sirius broke through,
"What? That's ridiculous! What about the DA? What's happening with that?" He looked towards Hermione hopefully, knowing of her clear intelligence and trustworthiness, hoping that Harry had relayed some kind of information to her. Yet before she could speak, he himself cut through them both,
"She doesn't know about things like that Sirius." Harry and Ron both stood by the small entrance of the Common Room, having silently slipped in but seconds ago,
"It's for her own safety." Added Ron, "We don't need her in any more trouble than she already is for decking Ackerley."
"Oh, I had just assumed despite their status that they had been told. Though perhaps, your current situation Ron could prevent that." Sirius added, obviously hinting at some situation that remained completely unknown and hidden to the girls.
"It's not important." Ron stated, rather flatly and standoffishly, choosing not to look at the man in the fireplace.
"What is important is a meeting place for the DA. You can't keep letting Umbridge treat you this way. Look Harry, I don't have much longer, you need to find somewhere. Somewhere hidden." Harry was nodding profusely yet dismally, having failed to think of such a place thus far. A small cough from Carla alerted them all to her presence once more,
"Well, there's always the room..." She looked knowingly at Hermione, both of them still unaware that they had been followed to Muggle Mayhem the previous week and still under the impression that their Masters knew nothing of it, rather than that it had just slipped Harry's mind.
"If you need to keep hidden, and you don't want just anyone getting in," Hermione continued for her cautiously, "Why don't you just use the Room of Requirement?"
Japan's Arc Angel x
