Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban Timeline
"I Hold the Moon"
ooo
Kindness in words creates confidence.
Kindness in thinking creates profoundness.
Kindness in giving creates love."
- Lao-Tzu
RAVENCLAW VERSUS HUFFLEPUFF
Tristan sat in Herbology, barely listening to a word Professor Sprout was saying about the proper ways to handle and care for a Mimbulus Mimbletonia.
A week had gone by since his fight with Luna and they still hadn't spoken a word to each other. He knew it was his fault for lashing out like an idiot. Hoping for a chance to apologise, he had gone down to the boathouse and waited for her, but she hadn't shown that day — or the day after. He then briefly considered approaching her during breakfast or lunch, only to immediately shoot down the idea. What good would it do to make a fool of himself in public?
A nudge on his shoulder snapped him back to the present. He blinked, finding Harry frowning at him. "What's the matter with you lately?"
Tristan shrugged and glanced around the greenhouse. "What have we got to do again?"
"Gather stinksap from this thing," Harry explained, pointing to a small plant that resembled a cactus covered in ugly boils.
"Careful with that!" Hermione hissed before Harry's finger could touch one of the boils. "The Mimbulus Mimbletonia is very sensitive. The slightest touch and you'll be covered with stinksap."
"Bloody great," Tristan grumbled. "How do we do it without getting hit, then?"
"Gently," Hermione quipped, bumping her hip playfully against his.
He shot her a dirty look. "You're a comedian now, are you?"
"Oh quit being a grouch." She went to grab several flasks from the supply closet, then handed them out to Tristan, Harry and Ron, keeping one for herself. "It's best to hold the flask over the boils and apply a bit of pressure, squeezing out the stinksap. See?"
Dark green liquid squirted from the boil and filled at least a quarter of her glass flask. When she pulled back, an awful smell of rancid manure reached Tristan's nostrils. He pinched his nose, glaring daggers at the green liquid.
"What the hell?" Ron's voice came out very nasally as he copied Tristan's idea and pinched his freckled nose too. "Smells worse than death!"
"It's called stinksap, Ronald. What did you expect it to smell like — roses?"
"Does something that smells this foul really heal any creature's wounds?" Tristan asked dubiously.
"You should have a whiff of Madam Pomfrey's remedies," said Harry, who was trying to squeeze the plant's boils while keeping a safe distance in case it went haywire. "Some even taste worse than they smell. Skele-Gro burned the whole way down my throat when I had to take it last year."
"Beautification potions taste terrible too," Hermione commented idly.
Interested, Tristan lowered his flask. "How on earth would you know what a beautification potion tastes like?"
Both Harry and Ron also turned to Hermione expectantly, but she refused to look at any of them. Her face had turned bright scarlet. "I might've tried one once — for curiosity purposes. It was an... interesting experience.
"That stuff's for ugly people, not pretty girls like you," Tristan declared matter-of-factly.
"You think I'm pretty?" Hermione asked in a squeaky voice.
"Yeah," he said slowly, not really understanding why the surprise. Tristan always thought Hermione was pretty. It wasn't even a thought, it was just a common fact. She had sparkly eyes and a face that lit up whenever she was passionate about something. What was there not to be pretty?
Bowing her head so her long, thick hair was partially hiding her face, Hermione mumbled a shy "thanks" and went back to the task at hand.
Ron sneered bitterly from the opposite side of their small table. "You're a regular Casanova this year, aren't you?"
"Not my fault I was born with irresistible charms," Tristan rebutted with a good-natured grin, elbowing Hermione to snap her out of the awkwardness. She giggled and very nearly dropped her already full flask.
Scowling like a spoiled little boy, Ron grabbed the plant too harshly by the vase. As he slid it over to him, his finger grazed one of the boils by mistake and a jet slammed him square in the face, covering him with green, foul-smelling stinksap. Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth. Disgusted, Harry held his arm out, which had unfortunately been splashed with stinksap too. Tristan doubled over, laughing.
Ron didn't seem to find it quite as funny. He spat some of the liquid, rubbed it from his eyes, then shook his hands at Tristan, who barely had time to raise his arms to defend himself from the attack.
"Mr. Weasley!" Professor Sprout chided from the front of the greenhouse, her hands on her plump waist. "Stinksap is an invaluable resource! Please do not throw it at your classmates like common water!"
"Sorry, professor!"
"I'll get you for this," Tristan warned Ron as he scoured his clothes with a spell.
They bickered and butted heads the entire day. Tristan wasn't even sure why Ron was suddenly acting like a pain toward him, but it was getting on his nerves. The last thing he needed was having to tiptoe around Ron's fragile ego when he had his own wounded ego to worry about already. He'd passed Luna in the hallway on the way to History of Magic and she hadn't even bothered to acknowledge his existence with a glance.
Much later, instead of going back to the common room with Harry, Ron and Hermione after class, Tristan wandered around the castle lost in thought. It was to his own surprise that he ended up outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts office. He stared at the door for a few minutes, scratching the back of his head and debating whether or not to bother Lupin. Finally, after much internal deliberation, he knocked.
The invitation to come in was almost immediate. Professor Lupin was sitting behind his large desk, quill in hand, hair falling over his eyes.
"Sorry to bother you…" Tristan said, tucking his hands nervously in his pockets.
Lupin smiled warmly. Smoothing his hair back, he gestured to the chair in front of him. "No bother at all. Do you want some tea?"
"Yes, please!"
Still smiling, Lupin walked over to his kettle. "What do I owe this visit? Anything I can help you with?"
The question gave Tristan some pause. Why did he come see Professor Lupin? It hadn't really been a conscious decision, his feet had steered him there on their own accord. But maybe it wouldn't hurt to get a little insight from someone wiser.
"You've been around a lot, haven't you, sir?"
"I'm not entirely sure how to answer that," Lupin said playfully as he returned to his seat and handed Tristan a mug. "Are you calling me an old man?"
"Not old — older," Tristan corrected quickly. Lupin made a skeptical hum while raising his mug for a sip. "Anyway… you must know lots about girls, right?" Lupin choked on his tea. Coughing, he set the beverage aside before it spilled all over him. Tristan eyed the man warily. "Are you okay, sir?"
"Yes, yes, I just need a second!" Lupin coughed a few more times, patting his fist lightly on his chest and sucking a deep breath in. His face eased into an incredulous smile. "If that's what brings you to my office today, I'm afraid you'll be greatly disappointed. I would hardly consider myself an expert on women."
"Well—" Tristan chewed on the inside of his cheek. "You must know some things. What's the best way to apologise to a girl?"
"What have you done to Hermione this time?"
"It's not Hermione. I know how to tame that beast," Tristan added under his breath, grinning sheepishly when Lupin raised his eyebrows. "Hermione's easy to placate. But this girl… Half the time I don't understand what's going on inside her head, she's a total mystery!"
"Most girls are, it's part of their charm." Amused, Lupin sat back in his chair, drummed his fingers on the desk. "What happened? If you don't mind me asking."
Tristan sighed and had some of his earl grey tea. "She didn't say it exactly, but she thinks I'm embarrassed to be seen with her…"
"And are you?"
"Of course not!"
"Then why does she think that?" Professor Lupin pressed gently.
"Because we've only spent time together when no one can see us," Tristan admitted reluctantly. "And, well… I guess it's also because we don't really talk to each other in the hallways… but that's not entirely my fault, she doesn't talk to me either. Offering to sit with her the other day's what got me in this mess in the first place. I was only trying to be nice, I would've kept my mouth shut if I knew it would lead to this..."
Lupin didn't respond right away, studying Tristan in a way that made him want to squirm. The man had really sharp eyes, he decided. Kind, but also very keen. Sometimes Tristan felt like he
"Have you considered that perhaps she is feeling insecure? Believe it or not, Tris, you are quite popular amongst your schoolmates. If you haven't known each other very long, it's possible she might be feeling a little intimidated, or even worried that you might not find her good enough to be seen as your friend."
Tristan opened and closed his mouth. "T-that's… that's ridiculous!"
"To you." Lupin's lips curved into a patient smile. "But maybe not to her. Why have you only spent time with her when no one's around?"
Tristan cast his gaze nervously to the side. "Dunno..."
"Are you sure? Seems to me like you might be trying to keep her at a distance. She's obviously very clever because she's picking up on that too and therefore it's making her react in a way to protect herself."
Shame and guilt coloured Tristan's cheeks, and he kept his stare down out of fear of facing judgment from his favourite teacher. In the prolonged silence, Lupin took his now empty mug, took Tristan's too, went to put them away. When he returned to his seat, the last remnants of sunlight shone brightly in the window behind his desk, engulfing him and turning golden the streaks of grey in his hair.
"Since you have come to me for advice, I hope you won't take offence in what I have to say."
"Okay," Tristan drawled slowly and with caution.
"A good friend," Lupin started in that warm cadence he often spoke with, "will accept all the bad, weird and quirky things about you, perhaps even grow to love them. They won't see them as flaws, only as different parts to who you are. If you want this girl to be your friend, as I understand you do, then you must give her a chance to get to know you first."
It was true, Tristan thought, that he had been keeping Luna at a distance. She was different than Harry and Ron, and even Hermione with whom he had always felt closest to. He wasn't sure why or how she was different, but she was. And that brought to surface all sorts of feelings of inadequacy, self-doubt and anxiety. Truly, Luna shouldn't be the one feeling insecure. Popular as he was in the eyes of his schoolmates, Tristan had never personally considered himself much of anything. No one knew how weak he actually was. How he would sit in his room like a coward while his sister suffered at the hands of their father. How he ignored the pain and sadness in Nora's eyes and smiled when she asked him if he was okay, not because he didn't want her to worry but because he had no idea what to say or do to make it better.
If he opened up to Luna, let her glimpse into his messed up life, and she learned all those dark, shameful secrets of his, what were the odds that she would still want to be friends?
"What if she doesn't like me?" Tristan asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
"And what if she does?" Lupin opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out a chocolate bar and offered it to Tristan. "You're not seriously going to let fear win, are you? Surely, as a Gryffindor, you have a little more dare in you than that. You should apologise and tell her how you feel."
"You make it sound so easy," Tristan grumbled, tearing one corner of the foil and chewing off a large chunk of chocolate.
"The bravest thing to do is rarely ever the easiest. But if it's any consolation, I'm positive Miss Lovegood will appreciate your honesty above all."
Tristan dropped his jaw. "How did you—"
"Let's call it a lucky guess," Lupin cut in, grinning smugly, eyes dancing with humour.
"And you let me sit here all this time talking about her without saying anything?" Tristan was genuinely impressed. "You're devious, professor."
Lupin laughed heartily, "I have my moments, or so I've been told."
Still processing, Tristan huffed a little. Then a terrifying thought suddenly popped into his head. "Please don't tell Nora," he said pleadingly, heat crawling up his neck. "She'll never let me hear the end of it!"
"I won't, don't worry," Lupin promptly reassured.
More relieved, Tristan sat back and polished off the rest of his candy. When Professor Lupin pulled out a very old chessboard from yet another drawer in his desk and asked if he fancied a game, Tristan was more than happy to accept the challenge.
With Ravenclaw's match only a day away, Nora started working on the good luck ribbons she always prepared for the Quidditch team. She had made one for Caito's first match after he'd joined the team on his second year and since they had won by an absurd amount of point difference, soon enough the whole lot was demanding ribbons too. It became tradition.
The ribbons were really nothing special, simple strips of blue silk embroidered with each player's individual number and a few Japanese characters for good luck that Julia had taught her. For Caito's ribbon, Nora also embroidered a tiger's head which she then charmed to life so it would roar and bare its teeth when he was out on the field. It alluded to the nickname his teammates had given him — Blue Tiger. Because of his prowess and confidence.
"All done," Nora said proudly, examining her work on the last ribbon.
"Let me see—" Emma snatched the ribbon and held it against the light pouring from the window beside their table. Embroidered in bronze thread, the tiger head glistened prettily over royal blue silk. "Brilliant! How come you've gotten better at it?"
"Granny Rose gave me a few pointers last Christmas. I might do one for Jules this year. Hopefully Wood won't think it's cursed…"
Sitting in front of them, Liam made an unpleasant scoffing noise without looking up from Gulpalott's autobiography, which he had been reading every day religiously. "Can't believe you went through all this trouble for a clown like Caito."
"Caito's not a clown!" Nora argued with disapproval. "Besides, I've always done his good luck ribbons."
"He doesn't deserve a single thing from you," Liam muttered bitterly.
"Oh for bloody heaven's sake, Liam." Emma rolled her eyes, clearly irritated. "Grow up, will you? Stop acting like a jealous little boy."
"I'm not jealous!" Liam glared daggers at his sister, ears bright scarlet.
Nora laughed at his reaction. "You could've just told me you wanted a ribbon too. I wouldn't have minded making you one," she said as she folded all seven ribbons neatly and saved them in her bag to hand out later.
"What would I do with a ribbon anyway? Even though they are sort of nice," he added begrudgingly under his breath, smiling a little when Nora tossed her head back laughing.
They lounged around in the common room for another half hour until it was almost time for the duelling club. On the way to the dungeons they tried to guess who they would be paired up with next as Professor Lupin had been switching students around so they experienced different styles of duelling within similar skill levels. After getting Percy on that first meeting, Nora had then paired up with Nate Ainsworth, who put on an impressive fight. She was hoping to duel Liam this time. It was always a fun challenge as he was extremely difficult to get a read on.
Caito and Andrew were still standing outside the duelling chamber when they arrived. Lucky, Nora thought, walking over to greet them.
"I've something for you two." She rummaged through her bag for the respective ribbons, gave them out when she found them. "Finished today. Minutes ago, actually."
"I was wondering when we'd be seeing these," Andrew said while lifting his ribbon to tie it around his head. Caito stopped him.
"Don't put it on before the match, it's bad luck."
Nora tried to stifle a laugh. "Really, Caito."
"What? It's the eve of the game, I'm not taking any risks," he replied in all seriousness. "It's perfect. Thanks, Nora."
She shrugged it off. "Better win tomorrow."
"Oh we will," Andrew declared, looking confident and determined. "Diggory won't know what hit him. Poor boy's way in over his head."
"Quite a looker, though, isn't he?" Emma mused out loud, making Andrew roll his eyes with a scoff.
"Of course that's what stands out to you!"
Caito tugged at a curl slipping from Nora's ponytail. "Do you think he's a looker too?"
Nora raised her eyebrows. "I think he's fifteen."
"Not into younger men then?" Caito joked. His positively charming grin garnered him a hearty laugh as they entered the duelling chamber. Inside, almost everyone had already arrived so they didn't have to wait long for the club to start.
Nora got a really bad feeling when Lupin called Liam and Caito's names together as he was assigning the pairs for the evening. Despite having told her in Hogsmead that he'd consider talking things over with Liam, she knew for a fact Caito never did. He and Liam hadn't exchanged another word since then. She didn't think it was a very good idea to give them the opportunity to aim spells at each other now. It was begging for a catastrophe to happen.
She did her best to keep an eye on them while duelling Heather Tchatcham, a Slytherin girl with braces. But it wasn't easy. Heather had an annoying penchant for casting nasty jinxes and curses. Twice Nora had to dodge an Instant Scalping Hex and a spell that accelerated teeth growth, barely ducking down in time.
"What's the matter, Cavanaugh?" Heather taunted, flaunting her mean, metallic sneer. "Thought you were supposed to be good at this!"
Refusing to rise to the jeering, Nora deflected a blast of red light and hit Heather with a particularly strong Confundus Charm that made the girl stagger uncertainly and lose grip on her wand. Heather sunk to her knees and scrambled around to pick it back up, but her fingers seemed to have forgotten how to work entirely.
Across the chamber, Caito suddenly went flying backwards and crashed into the wall hard enough that everyone in the room heard the crunch of flesh against rock.
"I said no harmful spell-casting, Liam!" Professor Lupin shouted sternly. "Do it again and I will be forced to—"
Caito was back on his feet and firing at Liam before anyone could react. The spell missed its target, hitting a corner of the room and exploding a portion of the wall. Dark grey clouds of dust rose from the rubble. Shards of rock rained over four girls nearby who covered their heads with their arms and ran out of the way. Nora was shoved harshly aside by one of them as she was trying to cross through.
By the time the dust settled, Caito and Liam were rolling across the floor. Everyone started speaking loudly and at the same time while Professor Lupin struggled to get a handle on the unexpected chaos.
"That is enough!"
Angrily, he waved his wand and, as though seized by the scruff of their necks by an invincible force, Caito and Liam came apart. The same invisible force kept them locked into place while they caught their wind, both a complete mess, red in the face, hair sticking oddly in some places, uniforms rumpled and missing a few buttons. Liam had a busted lip, but Caito didn't look like he'd faired any better despite being taller and in much better shape.
Lupin came to stand between Caito and Liam, studying them with an expression of deep-seated disappointment. "Have you any idea how utterly ridiculous you both look in this very moment?" He looked from Liam to Caito, demanding an answer, getting nothing. His scowl deepened. "Whatever disagreements you may have with each other, I would've expected two upstanding young men such as yourselves to know better than to solve them with violence. I'm afraid you leave me no choice but to give you detention tonight."
"Tonight?" Caito echoed in alarm. "But, sir — the game is tomorrow!"
"Perhaps you should've thought of that earlier," Lupin replied sharply. Caito was ready to argue, but he faltered under the withering look he was given. Nora couldn't blame him; she'd never seen Professor Lupin so angry. He was surprisingly stern. "What about you, Liam? Any formal complaint about your punishment you would like to issue as well?"
Liam stopped dabbing the blood off his lip with his sleeve to face Lupin, somehow managing to look both sheepish and smug at the same time. "Not really no, sir."
"Right then." Lupin pursed his lips, glancing back and forth between Caito and Liam in silent deliberation again. "I am suspending you both from the duelling club until next term. Hopefully, time away will help you reflect on your childish antics. As for today's meeting, I believe we should end it here. Caito, better put that wall back to how it was before you decided to blast it…"
Whispering furiously, everyone started gathering their things. Nora spared a worried glance toward Caito as he worked on fixing the blasted wall, but when she saw Emma coming up behind him, that worry settled a little. She knew he would be in good hands.
She walked over to Liam and yanked him down by his arm, maybe a little too harshly, to check on his lip. "Let me see that—"
The cut wasn't very big and it wasn't bleeding anymore. He grumbled something under his breath about Caito that sounded very rude and unpleasant so she smacked him in the shoulder for good measure.
"Careful! I'm injured!"
"Oh, really? And whose fault is that?" Nora brushed a finger over the small cut, healing the wound nonverbally. "There — all patched up, you big baby."
"Thanks…" Liam mumbled, working furiously to fix his crumpled uniform and dishevelled hair.
She shook her head with a deeply exasperated sigh. "It's not like you to lose your cool like that. What happened?"
"Nothing," he shrugged without looking at her. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't," Liam snapped angrily, starling Nora, who shrunk back with a wince. He clenched his jaw, sighing in frustration. "Sorry, but this is between me and Caito. Keep out of it."
Her brows knitted. She was genuinely hurt. Liam was harsh and distant to pretty much everyone, but never to her... Sometimes he spoke a little more bluntly, but he always made sure to soften his sharp words right afterwards.
When a warm hand brushed softly over her lower back, Nora looked up to find Professor Lupin standing next to her.
"How are you feeling, Liam? Didn't lose any teeth, did you?" His voice was full of humour now that most of the class was gone.
Liam pulled a sort of deadpan face. "Very funny, sir. But I think you should be checking on Dearborn instead of me."
"I did," Lupin said, shaking his head with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "I'd be impressed by how well you handle yourself in a fight if I wasn't your teacher."
Liam held his shoulders back proudly. It seemed like Professor Lupin had earned himself quite a few points in his favour with that comment.
"Do you know what prompted the fight?" Lupin asked Nora after Liam had walked off to get his stuff.
"Not exactly," she said with a frown. "All I know is that they haven't been on good terms lately."
Lupin contemplated her for a long time before nodding. "Let me know if you need anything," he told her kindly. The hand still on her back moved up and down lightly, a quick gesture meant to give comfort, and Nora found herself smiling at him, feeling all kinds of better when he responded in kind.
On the way to the common room neither Liam nor Emma uttered a single word, to her or each other, not even to bicker. The uncomfortable silence lasted until the feast, then throughout the whole meal. Later, as she and Emma were getting ready to sleep, Nora tried to gouge her friend for answers, but Emma continued to brush her off coldly.
"I don't understand why you're acting like this," Nora insisted, sitting crosslegged on her bed so she was facing Emma, who was wiping off her makeup in the mirror. "Did I do something wrong?"
Incredulous, Emma turned away from her reflection, one eye still painted. "You're kidding, right? Wake up, Nora, why do you think they were fighting? It's your fault — all of it!"
"Mine?" Nora was beyond confused. "How's it my fault?"
"Spare me the innocent act!" Emma whirled back around angrily, rubbing her face with a damp towel until her skin was faintly red. "You have to know this, not even you are that thick!"
Nora narrowed her eyes at her friend, "What is that supposed to mean?"
The bathroom door opened. Towelling her hair, Penelope stepped out, only to freeze in the doorway upon the tension in the room. She eyed Nora and Emma warily. "Everything all right?"
Without another word, Emma brushed past Penelope into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Nora huffed angrily. Springing off her bed, she pulled back the covers, slipped inside and waved the curtains shut around her.
"Okay…" Penelope said slowly to the silent room.
The weather was as tempestuous for the game between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as it had been for Gryffindor and Slytherin, with stormy skies, furious wind and heavy rain. One of the towers in the stands was struck down by a bolt of lightning during breakfast so the match had to be pushed for the afternoon while Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall saw to resolve the problem.
The delay only served to boost everybody's nerves and expectation. Tension in the air was tangible over lunchtime, especially where Caito and his teammates were sitting. Caito had a mean-looking scowl on his face. It always impressed Nora how he was able to shed his generally friendly disposition for the aggressiveness he showed on the field. Four years now, Ravenclaw had won the Quidditch cup and it was greatly due to his competitiveness and extraordinary leadership skills.
When it was almost time, Nora joined the crowd of students heading out to the pitch with Julia and Emma. Meanwhile Liam went back to the common room under the pretence of a headache. They all knew it was really because he didn't want to watch Caito play. Things between Nora and Emma were still shaky as well. Emma was still giving Nora the cold-shoulder, and Nora had resorted to doing the same. Stuck in the middle, Julia would occasionally try to dissuade the awkward tension with jokes that neither Emma nor Nora found particularly funny.
Although the thunderstorm had passed, it was very windy outside. Students had to grab on to their hats and scarves to keep them from flying off. In the sea of people, Nora spotted Luna sitting by herself further down the stands, holding tightly to a blue cap with a huge raven on top of it. She started pushing her way through despite Emma's complaints about sitting with the weird girl. Nora couldn't care less about what Emma thought; she didn't think Luna was weird at all. Unique and different, yes, but not weird.
Luna beamed brightly as they joined her. She really was such a sweet girl, Nora thought. It made absolute perfect sense that she and Tristan would get along. Tristan loved all things different and unique. And just as she was thinking it, Nora noticed Luna's eyes sweep past Julia and Emma to see if there was anyone else with them.
"He's probably higher on the stands," she told Luna, who tilted her head, blinking puzzledly. "Tristan — isn't that who you're looking for?"
Luna jolted with surprise. "You know?"
It was Nora's turn to be puzzled. "That you're friends? Of course, why wouldn't I?"
Luna didn't have a chance to respond. The crowd around them had burst into cheer. Below the stands, both teams were crossing the field. The blue ribbons Nora had made for her team fluttered in the wind, some had theirs tied around their upper arms, others around their heads.
"Here they come, ladies and gentlemen," said Lee Jordan over the loud noise in the commentary box. "First time Ravenclaw's playing this year, but we all know this is the team to watch out for. They are the reigning champions of Hogwarts with four cups under the belt. Will they be taking away their fifth cup? Only time will tell. One thing is for certain, the Blue Tiger is out for blood today. Diggory better watch his back."
"Jordan's not wrong," Julia mused, leaning over the bannister with her binoculars. "Caito looks about ready to commit murder. It's been a while since I've seen him so pissed…"
If the apprehension on Cedric Diggory's face was any indicator, the boy was clearly thinking the same. Diggory was uncommonly big for a Seeker, very tall and broad-shouldered, however standing toe to toe with Caito as they shook hands, he still managed to look fairly unimpressive.
Both teams mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and they were off.
"And there goes Dearborn, full speed toward the goals! Macavoy closes in on the right. Dearborn passes to Darling, back to Dearborn again, great teamwork from Dearborn and Darling as usual. Dearborn goes to score— Ah! Tough luck for the Blue Tiger, but a neat move from Chaser Malcom Preece as Hufflepuff takes possession. Beater Samuels blocks Preece but he passes to Applebee. Really great work from Diggory building his team this year..."
"— Ravenclaw takes back charge with a brilliant use of the Parkin Pincer! Roger Davis defends the Quaffle, passes to Darling, reverse pass to Dearborn, and HE SCORES! Ten points to Ravenclaw!"
The blue stands roared, and Nora roared right along with them. Suddenly, an unexpected bludger collided with the side of Caito's shoulder. She brought her hands to her mouth with a gasp as he flew sideways with the impact, dropping the Quaffle to grab at his shoulder in obvious agony.
"Shake it off!" Julia shouted fervently. Even though there was no way he could've heard her from so high up, Caito gritted his teeth and jumped back into the game.
"Do you think he's okay?" Nora asked worriedly, willing her eyes to keep up with the speed with which he was flying.
"He's fine," Julia dismissed offhandedly. "We've seen Caito play after a bludger to the head, remember? Bloke's freaking indestructible— FOUL! Oh come on! That's blatching right there!"
Madam Hooch seemed to agree with Julia. She flew over to intervene just in time to prevent Andrew from clobbering Malcolm Preece in the nose with his elbow for body-charging into him when he was about to score. Hooch declared penalty for Ravenclaw. Andrew lined up to take it and scored brilliantly past a much too slow Herbert Fleet, Hufflepuff's Keeper.
The game became faster, more violent after those two incidents. An hour into the game and the scoreboard was 220 to 70. Hufflepuff's Chasers were very good but they were also new and so they didn't stand a chance against Ravenclaw's well-practiced teamwork. Meanwhile, across the field, Diggory and Cho Chang had spotted the Snitch and were flying neck to neck.
"And down goes Macavoy! She's off the game and it's a penalty for Hufflepuff. Can Chaser Applebee make the shot? Ohh and she misses! Davis takes the Quaffle, soars like a falcon— and is that? Could it be? Yes, yes, I believe it is! Chang catches the snitch! What a surprise, this girl! Not just a pretty face but a demon on a broom! Well, she's certainly caught my attention today—"
"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall shouted.
"Just saying, professor! And that's it, folks — with a total of 370 points it's another astounding victory for Ravenclaw!"
Blue and bronze flags and banners waved with vigorous enthusiasm while Ravenclaw's players flew laps around the field to commemorate. Jumping up and down, Nora threw her arms around a beaming Luna.
"Guess we're partying tonight!" Emma grinned, joining in on the excitement as she temporarily forgot that she and Nora still weren't speaking to each other.
Hey, guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had a really fun writing it, especially Remus and Tristan's scene. The game was a little tough, I think it was my first time writing a Quidditch scene like that, but I enjoyed the challenge. By the way, I have a surprise planned for the next chapter. It may or may not be some fluff *wink wink*
Anyway, let me know what you guys think!
