Quidditch - There Is Nothing More Important
Pranks, Nicknames, Arguments and The Ravenclaw Vs Hufflepuff Grudge Match
Everything you recognise belongs to JKR. Unfortunately.
Beta'd by Dorothea Greengrass and Thundercracker-TC much appreciated.
—Quidditch—
"Merlin's balls, Harry, will you stop brushing your hair!" Ron called through the bathroom door of the third year boys dorm room. "I'm starving and you're holding me up."
Harry attempted to flatten his hair various ways, muggle hair gel, wizard hair gel—neither of which he liked the feel of—followed by tap water and a second shower when he couldn't get it all out.
It might be time for a haircut.
"I've told you to leave me," Harry snapped, "but you won't."
Ron and Seamus both snorted from their position by Harry's bedside table. They each picked up another Valentines card, read, and chortled with glee.
"Here's one about a freshly pickled toad!" Ron laughed with glee. "I don't understand girls at all, what loser wrote this?"
"I'm sure your sister sent me that one last year," Harry called through the bathroom door.
Seamus was practically crying as he tried to read the card in his grasp, but his guffaws prevented that.
"Like a thief in the dark… you stole my heart...always be mine…I bet you taste like strawberry wine. I can't, I can't my ribs hurt. Stop!"
Seamus was joined in giggles by Ron, who dropped the card on the floor.
On their own most weren't that funny, but Harry had received dozens of them by the castle's internal Postal system or house elf delivery.
The first one was dropped on Harry's head at five that morning.
"Oi, get out of here the pair of you. Look at this. You're making a mess!" Harry complained. "Just go, take the cards with you. Just leave the one from Katie."
"Seriously, Harry," Seamus said, "how the hell did you bag a bird so fine? We won't tell, promise."
"I've told you at least ten times now, Seamus, I had nothing to do with it and I wouldn't have it any other way. Ask questions and be interested in the answer. Then ask more questions. Believe it or not it's not only about you or broom closets. Now piss off so I can get dressed," Harry told his roommate.
"I don't believe that Harry. Come on there's more to it." Seamus pressed.
"Fine, stop telling girls what you'd do to them and show some emotion. They like that. Oh, and be a quidditch player." Harry smirked at him.
"Emotion?" Ron and Seamus squarked together and exchanged an incredulous look.
"What's that got to do with it?" Ron demanded.
Harry rolled his eyes. "This is why you can't get a girlfriend," he told his friend. "Girls are different. Just be their friend first and see if they change how they talk to you. What's the thing I spend doing with Katie more than anything else?"
Both boys smirked and opened their mouths to reply. Harry held up his hand, an admonishing finger extended.
"Say that and I'm leaving you to figure this out by yourselves."
"Kissing," Seamus said lamely.
"Talking," Harry corrected.
"What?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head. These things weren't really clear in his head, it had only been a few months since the 'snitch catching'.
"We talk. Laugh, joke and just spend time with each other. Usually hold hands. She keeps jumping on my back so I have to carry her. Today is our first proper date." Harry finished and stared at them expectantly.
"And?" Ron said.
"I'm keeping her waiting. Piss off so I can get ready." Harry said loudly.
"Alright, alright you only had to say so."
Harry growled at them and they scarpered off to their own beds to finish dressing. Harry's eyes gleamed with mischief and he picked his wand up from his bedside table.
A muttered incantation, accompanied by a swish and flick later, and Harry got dressed as quickly as he could.
"Oi, where have all my socks gone?" Seamus shouted.
"Mine too, I just took a pair out, too." Ron cried.
"Did you check under your bed? They can roll," Harry offered reasonably.
"What, ten pairs?" Seamus glared at Harry.
Harry held his hands out in a gesture of helplessness. "Alright, I was only trying to help."
"I don't understand it, was this you Harry?" Ron accused.
"Why would I do it? Maybe it was the elves. They might be washing them, you both have very smelly feet," Harry said.
"Why would Harry do it, Ron?'' Seamus questioned. "I bet it was the elves."
"Give us a pair of yours, Harry." Ron said. "I said I'd meet Hermione for breakfast."
Harry gave himself a mental slap. Ah. Two points of learning here. Be faster getting out of the room and lock your sock drawer when depriving Ron of socks.
"You're not putting my clean socks on your stinking feet. No way." Harry moved in front of his drawers protectively.
"Come on, Harry, it's only two pairs!" Seamus joined him.
They approached Harry slowly like a pair of rather inept predators, one on either side. Seamus pounced and tackled Harry to his bed while Ron rifled through his drawers.
"Oi, get off me!" Harry complained. "Get out of there, those are mine!"
"Here you go Seamus!" Ron threw a rolled-up pair of socks towards Seamus, who let go of Harry and caught them with one hand.
"Cheers Harry," he said with an infuriating grin, "I've got to go!"
"Bye Harry." Ron said, Harry's favourite pair of socks on his feet.
That demanded revenge. Harry slowly got off his bed with another glint in his eye.
—Quidditch—
Once on the stairs, Ron and Seamus burst into muffled sniggers.
They stopped abruptly when they saw Katie in front of them, arms crossed and impatiently tapping her foot.
"Are you two the reason that I'm waiting for Harry? It's meant to be the other way round, you know," she told them.
Ron turned bright red and clamped his hand over his mouth. Seamus glanced at his friend and answered.
"Harry's still getting ready."
"Yeah," Ron squeaked. "He's spending ages on his hair. Say Katie, has anyone else mentioned losing socks this morning?"
"Dunno about that. Hermione is complaining that you're holding her up, though," Katie said as she moved against one wall to let the boys past. She shook her head as she went up to find her wayward boyfriend.
—Quidditch—
"Hermione, you know how much I care about house elf rights, don't you?" Harry asked quietly as he slid onto the bench beside Hermione.
"Do I? You seemed quite bored the last time I mentioned it," Hermione replied absently, pouring milk on her bran flakes.
"Of course I do. Ron and Seamus were insulting them this morning. Saying that they were doing a terrible job on cleaning our dorm and not putting clothes back where they belong. We deserve better, they both said."
Hermione froze for a second and turned to face him.
"Ron said that!" she ground out.
"He did." Harry nodded solemnly.
"Ronald Weasley!" she whispered to herself.
Harry felt a frisson of sympathy for a second until he ruthlessly quashed it. After all, Ron was wearing his favourite pair of socks.
—Quidditch—
"I don't want to be near you at all, Ronald Bilius Weasley! Harry told me. I can't believe you!" Hermione stood, hands on hips, in front for half the student body in the entrance hall.
"I- What? Can't believe what? You'd better believe it, all my socks have disappeared. What was I supposed to do? Do you do your own laundry? I don't think so!" Ron crossed his arms in front of his chest and chin thrust forward in a stubborn angle.
"But- It's inhuman, Ron! I'm disgusted. Urgh, I can't be near you, I'm going to spend today with Parvati and Lavender." Hermione took a step forward, a look of distaste on her face. "In fact, don't even speak to me."
She turned and stormed off. The gathered students parted like the Red Sea, and her bushy hair vanished.
Ron turned a flinty glare at Harry, who stood next to him, eyebrows raised in an expression of bewilderment.
"You told her, Harry! What did you tell her?" Ron demanded.
A hundred heads silently swivelled to regard the boy-who-lived.
Harry sniffed.
"She asked me what I was grumbling about, so I told her what happened this morning. I did not expect that reaction," Harry said. "Don't worry, she'll get over it, you'll be back on speaking terms in a week or two." He patted his friend's back. "Oh there's Katie, Three Broomsticks at three, still?"
Harry moved away before Ron could respond.
—Quidditch—
The weather had been steadily improving over the last week and culminated in a glorious early spring day. There was still a nip in the air, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
Harry and Katie followed the herd down the trail that led to the wizarding village, hand in hand.
"Wizz Kid?" Katie asked.
The corner of Harry's mouth quirked up. "You're not even trying anymore."
"Thunderchild?" She grinned from ear to ear.
Harry turned a flat look her way.
"Obviously not." Her grin became broader. "Thunderbolt?" She sneaked a look at him.
Harry looked away not to show her his reaction. That wasn't bad, actually.
"Flash!" Katie exclaimed.
Harry's head whipped around to stare at her, his mouth open to speak.
Katie crowed. "Yes, that's it, there's nothing you can say. Your nickname is Flash Lightning!" She laughed.
Harry pulled his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had managed to dissuade and distract her for weeks now, but Katie had been bound and determined to choose a nickname for him and she had now succeeded. Damn it.
"If Fred or George start calling me that you might find your knickers are suddenly a size too small," he threatened.
"You wouldn't do that," Katie said with an air of finality and stuck her nose into the air.
"Oh, I would. I've pranked people before for less than setting those two pests on me." Harry smirked at her.
Some of her smugness left her. "You haven't told me about that. Like what?" She asked.
"Ron and Seamus couldn't find any socks this morning," Harry said.
"That was you? They were blaming the elves. Hermione won't speak to either of them." Katie laughed.
"Who do you think put the idea in their head and then told her?" Harry smirked.
Katie snorted. "What did he do to you?" She squeezed his hand in emphasis.
"He bloody snores like a chainsaw for one and wakes me up all the time. Him and Seamus were bothering me when I was trying to get ready this morning."
"He said that was because you were trying to sort your hair out." Katie looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Well, yes, but that wasn't why I was annoyed at him. He was reading the cards I got and laughing at how silly they are. It really annoyed me so I switched his socks with the dust in the attic above the common room. He couldn't find them, so he stole mine. In revenge for him stealing my socks I told Hermione he was insulting the elves." Harry smirked.
Katie snorted and held onto Harry's arm to keep herself upright as she giggled.
"So, Katie," Harry said after she had calmed down, "you haven't told me where we're going."
"Hogsmeade, Harry." Katie told him.
"Brilliant, I did wonder." Harry replied. "Details, Bluebell, or I'll start calling you Belly instead."
"Aww, Harry you've given me a nickname, too!" Katie practically swooned. "If you call me Belly though, I'll give you a reverse Mohawk," she threatened a second later.
Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.
"Is that a thing?" he asked.
"It will soon be, especially for whichever twin calls me that again." Katie groused.
"So, Katie," He repeated, "you still haven't told me where we're going."
"I told you, Scrivenshafts for quills, Zonkos for chocolate and mumble mumble for tea." Katie told him.
"You just said mumble mumble," Harry told her.
"Hey look, the twins are ahead, let's catch up," Katie said.
If she thought he would be distracted, she had another thing coming. "No they're not, and you didn't answer my question," he said firmly.
Katie didn't answer, although her cheeks pinked. They walked on in silence for a few paces.
Harry mulled over their conversation. Sudden realisation set in. His stomach sank."Katie?" he asked with a sinking dread, "are you taking me to Madam Puddifoots?"
"It'd be a shame to lose the table booking," Katie said, evading his eyes.
"When did we book?" Harry asked.
"Oh, I owled last week. That really looks like Fred. Oi, Fred!" Katie called and waved.
"That's not Fred, it's Ron," He corrected her. "When were you planning on telling me?"
"I wasn't and hoped you didn't realise we were there." Katie winced, still not looking at him.
Harry stared at her. Why would she do that without asking him? She knew he didn't like that.
She gave him a fleeting upward glance. "I really wanted to rub into Ginny Weasley's nose that you're mine," she muttered.
The genuine worry in her eyes and voice melted any resistance he had. "Oh Bluebell, you should have told me. You've been worried about this all week?" Harry said softly. He tugged her under his arm and squeezed.
Katie looked away, but nodded and cuddled against him. Harry sighed.
"Can I at least have cake?" he asked.
Katie's face brightened. She slid her arm around his waist and squeezed him back. "Carrot cake. The biggest they have," she promised and smiled from ear to ear.
"Well, alright then," Harry replied. "But I can't promise I won't complain about doilies. I'm not even sure what a doily is."
"Oh yeah, you said you were going to tell me how you got permission to come to hogsmeade?" Katie asked, her tone much lighter.
"Ha, yeah that was weird. I was really annoyed that I couldn't go as Uncle Vernon said not a cat in hell's chance would he sign something that means i might enjoy myself and that was that. I told Ron on the train and he said he'd ask his mum. I don't know what happened but a random post owl delivered the slip in a muggle envelope. No note, no letter, nothing." Harry replied, swinging their hands a bit harder.
"Ron's a good friend, don't you regret this sock thing?" Katie watched him through her eyelashes.
"God no, those were my favourite socks that I'll have to burn now."
—Quidditch—
Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop was much larger than the quaint shop front and tiny door with its filigree would suggest. There was a stationary section, with its rows of tubes, a quill in each one. Leather bound portfolios, each with hundreds of sheets of blank parchment. Hundreds of Ink wells rested on book shelves alongside journals and notebooks.
The section that Katie loitered in was filled with little knick knacks, ranging from full tea sets and vases to embroidered flowers and novelty items.
She waited and idly browsed until she saw or heard a specific group of girls.
"Come on Katie, you said the table was booked for two." Harry chivvied Katie along.
Katie raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend. As soon as he had realised that there was cake involved he had become a supporter of all things Puddifoot.
Katie heard whispering from a few shelves over and smirked.
"Madam Puddifoots is next, Harry," she said loudly. "Didn't you want to buy owl treats?"
"Harry Potter is going to Puddifoots?" A whisper reached Katie's ear, she grinned.
"Yup, but I've already got them. Come on, you've been staring at these quills for ages. You do know that won't improve your writing. It's not the quill that's the problem."
Katie gave him a playful shove. Harry, who had not expected violence was caught off balance and staggered a few steps backwards until he bounced off a passing fifth year Hufflepuff.
"Hey!" Harry protested, "careful of the merchandise! There's a sign up there, you break it, you buy it."
Katie smirked and winked at him. "Thought I already did?"
"I meant this place, but if you meant me, I've not had a knut yet," Harry groused.
Laughter from several points joined in with Katie as other shoppers listened to their banter.
Katie held her hand out to him, a sweet smile plastered on her face. Five sickles rested in her palm. Harry snatched up the money, grabbed a random trinket from the shelf next to him, slapped it in her palm, and ran for the door.
"Oi," Katie called after him with renewed laughter from the other shoppers.
—Quidditch—
Katie caught up with Harry in the street, a happy glow on her cheeks. She slid a hand into Harry's jacket pocket.
"Hey!" Harry protested.
"Where is it? If you want carrot cake, give me my money back." Katie switched to a different pocket in search of her stolen goods.
"I'll buy my own carrot cake, thank you very much!" Harry said.
Katie descended into giggles, gave up the physical search and hugged him.
"Doilies?" she asked him.
"Doilies," Harry agreed.
—Quidditch—
An old lady with a frilly white apron led Harry and Katie to their table, handed Katie a menu, and bustled off to take an order from a table recessed in an alcove.
"What have you decided on, my loves?" she asked the couple.
Harry couldn't see who was sitting there, but then again, he wasn't trying that hard. His full attention was on the cake under the glass dome.
The voice that answered sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.
"Harry?" Katie asked.
"Hmmm?" He didn't look away from the confectionery delight.
"Harry?" she repeated.
"What?" This time, his head jerked up. "Oh sorry, Katie, I might be a little bit hungry," he said sheepishly.
Katie smiled at him indulgently.
"Cake and tea?" she asked.
"Definitely," Harry confirmed. "What about you?"
"Yup. Why else would I subject myself to the 'doily horror,'' she asked with a giggle.
"I suppose it's not that bad," Harry replied as he looked around. He shuddered as he took in the pink interior and the lace-covered surfaces. " Well, maybe it is," he muttered. "Hope the cake is worth it," he joined in with Katie's giggles.
The door opened.
Ginny Weasley and Romilda Vane entered the cafe with two girls he didn't know, and he looked away. He really didn't want to attract attention to himself while he was here.
"Is there anything else you want to do here, apart from going to the Brooms?" Harry asked her.
"Not really, we could sneak away and do the couple thing," Katie said. Her eyes looked huge, then she batted her eyelashes.
Harry felt a smile tug at his lips. Katie's gaze was on his mouth again. He knew what she was thinking.
"I was thinking we could spend a couple hours in ye olde antique shoppe. I heard Terry Boot say it's the place to be," Harry idly commented as he looked at the cakes again.
He looked back at Katie and her smile was gone.
"An- antiques?" Eyes wide in shock, she stammered.
Harry couldn't keep a straight face and she caught it.
"You prat, Harry Potter!" She chuckled. "You had me going there."
Harry sniggered at her. "I don't even know where it is, plus, Boot is a weird bloke." Harry shuddered. "Couldn't think of anything worse."
"You're becoming quite the prankster, Harry, and lots of fun. This having a girlfriend thing is working wonders on you." Katie complimented him.
"I know, I'll be pranking the twins next!" Harry said.
"Hey now, don't start a war with them. I'll be caught in the middle, and then you'll be in trouble." Katie narrowed her eyes and levelled a finger at him. "Remember reverse Mohawk."
"Not me. My wrath is purely aimed at Ron and Seamus today." Harry replied.
"And Hermione?" Katie asked.
"She was my instrument. That performance in the great hall was better than I could have ever expected." Harry smirked.
Katie saluted him with her glass of water and they shared a smile.
Madam Puddifoot came alongside their table, a small notepad and pencil in her hands.
"What will it be, dearies?" she asked them.
"Harry was just asking why there are so many doilies?" Katie smirked at her boyfriend.
Harry jerked up from the menu and presented a rabbit-in-headlights look at the two smirking witches.
"Tea and cake for two please Mrs Puddifoot." Katie addressed the old matron.
"Not a problem, not which cake would you like? There isn't much carrot cake left. It's quite popular."
—Quidditch—
"Do you have the potion, Carmen?" Romilda whispered.
Carmen's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. "No, I thought you had it?"
"I've got it. You left the dorm without it this morning. I wondered when you'd notice," their friend Isabel said, and shook her head at them.
Carmen let out a sigh of relief. "What did Fred say about making it so she doesn't notice?"
"Little and often," Ginny replied. "Small quantities so that she won't notice the taste but often enough that she meta- me-."
"Metabolises," Carmen finished for her.
"Yeah that, she metabolises enough for it to take effect." Ginny nodded..
"So, Rommy?" Carmen asked.
"You all keep talking so no one notices. Casting under the table is going to be hard," Romilda muttered.
"Did you see that argument in the hall this morning?" Isabel asked. "I thought Hermione was going to start casting."
"I know," Ginny said a little too loud. "Ron's a berk getting into it with her there."
"To be fair, Gin, I don't think he had much choice. Whatever Harry said had her fizzing," Carmen commented.
They paused as Madam Puddifoot stopped at their table.
"Hello, Madam," Ginny said in her too loud voice, "how are you today?"
"My feet are hurting, Miss Weasley. Hazards of getting old. Please, say hello to your mother for me. It's been a while since your parents last stopped by. Tell her I've got a new recipe for her to try. Anyway, what will you girls be having? There isn't much carrot cake left."
"I want scones. Do you have any Orange juice?" Isabel asked.
"Orange? What's wrong with Pumpkin juice?" Ginny asked.
"We always have orange juice for breakfast at home. I've never had pumpkin before coming to Hogwarts, I don't like it, it's far too sweet."
"Yes, dear we have Orange," Madam Puddifoot replied.
"I'll try some, too. And scones," Ginny said adventurously.
"Three," added Romilda, hands under the table.
"Four," said Carmen.
"Four scones and orange juice," Madam Puddifoot confirmed. "It will be a few minutes, my elf Shuggy will bring it."
Madam Puddifoot bustled off, and the three girls turned to Romilda.
"I might have done too much, she just pulled a face," Romilda said quietly. "Don't talk so loud Ginny, you'll attract attention."
"Sorry, I'm nervous," Ginny said.
—Quidditch—
"That was lovely, Harry," Katie said as they left the tearoom. "Thank you for not whining too much about the doilies." She smirked at him and hugged his arm tightly.
At the look on his face she burst into giggles.
"I can't believe you said that to Madam Puddifoot. I'm shocked, I tell you, shocked! The twins are rubbing off on you, too," Harry said with mock hurt in his voice and tried to extract his arm.
Katie clung on, still chuckling, then stopped laughing and frowned.
They meandered past Scrivenshafts, arms linked, when Harry voiced the thought that had bounced around his head since they had sat at their table. "Did you see Ollie in there," Harry asked contemplatively.
Katie scratched at her chest and gave an absent-minded head shake. The next second, she straightened and giggled.
"God no, he swore that he would never ever go there again after the disaster two years ago. He was tricked into going into Puddifoots, the way he tells it there were doilies everywhere." Katie giggled again."He still has nightmares."
"I heard Fred tease him about that. I didn't hear the details, but it is probably the only time I've heard Ollie swear." Harry said.
"I wasn't there either, I heard it third hand from Michael Hornby that Ollie lost a bet and took his pants off in the middle of Puddifoots."
Harry stopped in his tracks. "He did what?!" He burst out into laughter.
Katie joined his laughter. "Madam Puddifoot was so traumatised that McGonagall came down from the castle and gave her a few shots of firewhiskey," she said between snorts and scratched at her collarbone again.
"That seems something like the twins would do. I wonder what the bet was?" Harry asked with a wriggle of his eyebrows and pulled Katie along.
Katie stopped walking which caused Harry to turn around. "What's up?" he asked.
She grimaced. "Everything itches." She unzipped her coat and looked down the inside of her top. "Ah!" she cried. The next moment, she pulled her jumper and t-shirt up to expose her belly to the air.
Pustules oozed white and yellow liquid all across her torso, and the skin around each raised pustule was red and looked sore. A paper plane slammed into Katie's temple and lodged in her hair.
Harry spun on the spot when he heard running feet and saw a black Hogwarts robe whip around a corner and out of sight.
"Go," Katie gasped, "find out who that was."
Angelina was just behind them on the street and hurried over to Katie as Harry bolted down the lane.
"Where's he going?" she asked.
"To catch whoever threw this at me and probably did this too." Katie said. Her voice was tight with pain as she waved the crumpled plane and lifted her top again.
"Oh Katie," Angelina gasped. "Come on, I'll take you back to school. Harry can catch us up."
"He will, I won't be walking very fast. It's all down my legs and in between. Can you conjure a stretcher, I can't walk like this." Katie gasped and moaned.
A group of Hogwarts students and villagers had gathered around them. Angelina looked around and spotted Oliver walking arm in arm Anita Macduff in the distance.
Her eyebrows shot up at that. Ollie and Anita, who would have thought? However, there was a more pressing problem at hand. "Ollie!" she hollered in her quidditch voice.
The crowd jumped at the volume, still, it had the desired effect. Oliver hurried over and Anita trailed behind.
"What's up Angie?" he asked when he reached them.
"Someone's attacked Katie, look at that," Angelina said.
"That's nasty," Anita said as she caught up with Oliver. "Who would do this to you, Katie? Everyone loves you."
"Someone doesn't," Oliver said grimly. He picked up the parchment that had fallen out of Katie's hand and read the message written on it. "This note says Harry is too good for you, he should leave you for someone better. It's unsigned."
The three older students exchanged a grim look. "That is mean," Anita said.
"And cowardly." Angelina nodded. "Professor McGonagall will need to hear about this. This goes beyond a prank. In the meantime, let's get Katie back to the castle."
"Oohhh," Katie groaned. Tears traced down her cheeks, and she bent over and clutched her stomach, as if in confirmation of Angelina's assessment.
Angelina conjured a stretcher and held it steady, while Oliver and Anita helped Katie to sit. She jumped right back up again with a cry of pain. "No! It's all over my bum. Can you levitate me?"
Angelina flicked her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa."
Harry returned at a jog.
"Anything?" Angelina snarled.
Harry shook his head and stepped close to Katie and took her hand, his eyes dark with worry.
"I think it might have been girls, but I couldn't see who it was before they were lost in the crowd. How are you, Katie?"
"It hurts," she said and squeezed his hand.
Wordlessly, Oliver handed Harry the note.
Harry read it. His face became grim, and he clenched his fist. The paper crumpled.
—Quidditch—
The doors to the infirmary slammed open. Madam Pomfrey jumped. The cup she held in her hand toppled over on the saucer and spilled her tea in her lap.
"I say!" she exclaimed, her brows furrowed in indignation.
Harry and Oliver came down the aisle between the beds at a dead run, skidded to a stop, they managed to avoid ploughing into a pair of hospital beds by a few bare inches.
Professor McGonagall rose to her feet, a deep scowl on her face that did not bode well for Harry and Oliver.
They looked at each other, aware they were in trouble, but too out of breath to explain themselves. A noise from the door saved them from the righteous wrath of their head of house.
Professor McGonagall looked towards the door. Her hand flew up to her mouth, stifling a dismayed exclamation, but her bulging eyes gave away her distress.
Angelina and Anita guided a moaning and writhing Katie as she floated down the aisle.
"Mr Wood? What happened?" McGonagall asked.
"A prank, we think, Professor," Oliver panted.
"A nasty one too," Anita said. She and Angelina lowered Katie to a bed.
"No!" Madam Pomfrey instructed them. "Keep her above it, those sores will be everywhere."
She had produced her wand and waved it over Katie for a few seconds while muttering an incantation. She gave a resolute nod and turned around to the anxiously waiting young people.
"Boys, behind the screen. Girls keep her there. Hold her hands and don't let her scratch."
She flicked her wand, and several sheets stretched inside of metal frames on wheels trundled from their place against one wall and surrounded the bed.
"I am going to have to banish your uniform, Miss Bell, do you understand?" Madam Pomfrey asked her.
"Yes," Katie hissed.
A muttered incantation followed, and Katie hissed once more, probably from the sudden exposition of her sores to the cool air of the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey muttered another incantation, and Katie groaned. The groans intensified the longer the incantation lasted.
Oliver and Harry stared in horror at the screens and listened to the exclamations of dismay. Harry bit his lips and balled his fists until his knuckles turned white.
Oliver put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.
The door burst open again and the boys whirled around.
Fred, George and Alicia stood in the doorway, hand on knees, as they panted and gasped for breath.
"What happened?" George gasped out.
"Katie's been poisoned. She's got sores everywhere," Harry said with barely suppressed fury. He looked from one twin to the other, a deep scowl on his face.
Their eyes widened, and Alicia put her hand in front of her mouth with a small gasp. The door closed behind them on silent hinges as they joined Harry and Oliver in their silent vigil.
At last, a screen's wheels creaked, and Professor McGonagall appeared, as stern as ever, although her face was rather pale.
"What can you tell me?" she asked.
Wordlessly, Oliver handed over the parchment he had plucked from Harry's numb grip.
McGonagall read the short missive and pondered it for a moment. When she looked up, she said, "This isn't good. Premeditated and calculated, well executed and vicious. I'll need to keep this and show the Headmaster."
She stepped back behind the screen and pulled it back in place.
Oliver caught a glimpse of Angelina's worried face and an unconscious Katie, her shoulder bare and red.
"Anything else I should tell the headmaster, Poppy?" McGonagall asked, her Scottish brogue unusually pronounced.
"This is horrible, Minerva. It's actually the Boil Curse Potion but you'd hardly recognise it as that, it's been brewed that badly. On top of that, someone switched it. Potions like this are very unpredictable once magic has been used on them. I'll need Severus for this one." Her voice sounded worried.
"Mr Wood, would you be so kind as to go to the staff room on the third floor and see if Professor Snape is still there? Ask him to come urgently." McGonagall called through the screen.
"Yes, Professor." Oliver answered and turned towards the door.
"I'll go with you, Ollie," Anita said.
Despite his worries, his heart gave a small skip. "Thank you, Miss McDuff."
Anita looked at every face. The concern in her eyes made his stomach drop. She approached him and took his hand, then tugged him out the door. As they passed Harry she touched his arm to offer comfort.
—Quidditch—
The twins, Harry, Angelina and Alicia were sat on two beds by the doors, facing each other, when Oliver returned with Anita and Professor Snape.
"Minerva?" Snape asked as he approached the screen.
"Come in, Severus. Minerva is flooing the Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey replied.
Snape stepped behind the screen and paused, his back and lank hair still visible.
"Merlins saggy—" he began.
Professor McGonagall, who left Madam Pomfrey's office that moment, heard his curse. "Severus!" she snapped.
Oliver blinked. Did Snape just jump?
Professor McGonnagall joined Snape behind the screen, and he strained his ears to listen into the conversation that followed.
"I think it's a mutated boil curse potion, switched into her drink most probably." Pomfrey told Snape.
"Idiotic Gryffindors," Snape muttered loud enough to be heard by every Gryffindor.
Sour looks mirrored his own thoughts as Oliver sat on the bed between Alicia and Anita.
"Bloody hell," Fred cursed quietly. "Any ideas, Harry?"
"There were dozens of students from all houses in Puddifoots today. It could have been any of them," Harry replied.
"Do you think it was an attack from another team to destroy our chaser formation?" Oliver asked.
Harry didn't answer at once. He bit his lips and avoided their eyes.
"Who are you thinking?" George asked.
Harry remained silent.
"Harry?" Oliver asked.
The silence went on for a few seconds more. At last, Harry took a breath. "Ginny was there," he said, still avoiding looking at the twins.
Another moment of silence followed, this time a shocked one.
"Oh," George said at last. "She wouldn't?"
Fred and George exchanged a look, then glanced at Harry again.
"Yes, she would," Fred said.
George sucked his teeth and moved to shake his head, then nodded. "Let's go get Percy, we'll need to approach this carefully. She'll start throwing bat bogey hexes if she's cornered," he said.
"She's mum's daughter," Fred said darkly.
They both got to their feet, placed a hand each on Harry's shoulders, and left quietly.
Anita took Oliver's hand and rested her head on his shoulder.
"When did this happen, Ollie?" Angelina asked in a clear attempt to change the subject.
"What? Oh it was initially about Quidditch, but it's been nice." Oliver smiled at Anita who gave him a half hearted one in return.
"We're seeing where things are going," she said.
Harry snorted and started to chuckle. It faded quickly but he had a half smile on his face.
"What?" Angelina asked.
"That's what Katie told McGonagall the morning after the victory party. The Professor said as long as things remain fully clothed we could continue." Harry smirked.
The group laughed, and Anita blushed prettily.
McGonagall reappeared from behind the screen.
"You all may as well go back to the common room. It will be a few hours before there is any news. I will come find you when I have anything," she said kindly.
The group rose and left shrouded in silence, the brief spark of humour extinguished.
—Quidditch—
It was a sombre group of professors who gathered around the unconscious form of Katie Bell, fourth year Gryffindor.
"Final assessment, Pomona, Severus?" a grave Headmaster Albus Dumbledore asked.
"Would you say attempted murder, Severus?" Poppy said.
"No, I can't see the intent. If the potion was brewed adequately, and had the switching been somewhere near competent, then the girl would have suffered much milder symptoms. As it is, she won't die," Snape drawled.
"I agree," Poppy told the aged Professor, "for all the pain and infection she experienced, she was never in any real danger. It was superficial, skin deep only."
"Minerva?" Albus turned to the deputy headmistress for her assessment.
"I agree with Poppy and Severus. Still, it was a malicious and cowardly attack, and the motive was despicable. We can't let it go unpunished, but we can keep it in the school. An object lesson..I have a few suspects in mind already," Minerva said.
"Very well, I shall leave it in your capable hands, Minerva. I am away to Geneva tonight, and shall return Monday next week. Good evening Minerva, Severus, Poppy," the headmaster said with a nod to each then turned for the door.
"You know who did it, Minnie?" Poppy asked.
"Oh not a clue, Poppy, but there are two genius-level troublemakers on their trail, and Mr Potter is catching them up fast. I'll be there to pick up the pieces and assign punishment." Minerva smirked at her longtime friend.
"You think those two red headed hellions are genius-level, Minerva?" Snape asked.
"Of course I do. Amongst the best and brightest I've had the pleasure to teach, and so do you," Minerva told the man. "Not that I would ever tell them that, of course."
"Of course," Snape drawled, then paused. "Please, tell me that you're not seriously considering Potter for captain?"
"Why, worried?" Minerva smirked.
He snorted and spun before he stalked from the room, cloak billowing behind him.
Minerva and Poppy watched him leave in silence and only after the doors thudded closed was it broken.
"Do you think he has to practice to perfect the bat like billow?" Poppy asked idly.
"No, it either comes naturally to him or he's found some obscure cantrip. Either is possible with Severus Snape." Minerva sighed.
"It will be hours before Miss Bell is awake. Would you mind keeping me company? I've not told you about going with Rolanda to Italy for Christmas, have I?" Poppy asked as they entered her office.
"Not yet. Did she get you and Simon tickets? I imagine Milan in winter is beautiful," Minerva said. When Poppy held out a bottle to her, she shook her head and raised a hand in polite refusal. "No firewhiskey for me, tea only, please. With Albus gone and Filius away at a duelling tournament for the weekend, I am it, until Monday."
They adjourned to the leather sofas that formed a square in the spacious room. Book shelves and glass cabinets gave the room the feel of a reading nook.
"Is Filius thinking about competing again?" Poppy asked.
"Just coaching, he told me. But I wouldn't be surprised if he was considering it. He is so good at the cut and thrust of the professional scene." Minerva glowed at the accomplishments of their dear friend.
"He mentioned a curse breaking tour in China or India during the summer. His grandsire is trying to headhunt him personally," Poppy said.
"Oh not again, the last time he and Remus went on one of those with Rotgang's crew they were both limping for weeks afterwards." Minerva scoffed.
"Remus? Surely that man has too much sense to be involved in such madness?" Poppy asked, scandalised.
"He's still hurting over Black, he'd do anything to keep his mind occupied and off past failures," Minerva replied.
"That was never his fault. Both Lily and James would not stand for such thinking," Poppy said.
"Well, young Miss Weasley isn't the first redhead to perfect the bat bogey hex. Lily was very accurate with it." Minerva smirked. "I agree, were she here, she'd set Remus to rights."
"Maybe young Harry would like to hear a story or two. I think I'll ask the next time he's in and Miss Bell is awake," Poppy mused.
"That's very kind of you Poppy. You knew Lily far better than I." Minerva said.
"Such a tragedy." Poppy sniffed and shook her head. "She is still my favourite apprentice. She would have made a fine healer."
"Come now, Poppy, don't cry over it now. That's too long ago and we are far too long in the tooth," Minerva cajoled her friend.
"Long in the tooth! You've been spending too much time with Rolanda. She keeps asking me when I'm retiring." Poppy huffed.
Minerva smirked "Did I tell you what the elves call her…"
—Quidditch—
The next few days were quiet and tense in the Gryffindor common room. Any laughter quickly fizzled out. The story of what had happened to Katie had made the rounds like wildfire.
Of course, the Slytherins couldn't resist rubbing it in. Harry and the twins had received several detentions for fighting with Slytherin students in response to snide comments. McGonagall went out of her way to give the same punishment to the offending Slytherins, much to Snapes' chagrin.
Oliver had heard that Snape had spoken to his house and warned them that further antagonising of Gryffindors would be dealt with by him.
Harry had become a ghost in the common room, barely seen during mealtimes and classes. He had practically moved into the hospital wing. Katie was happy about his company, but also concerned about his well being, she made him do his homework by threatening to withhold kisses.
Oliver had a reduced team practice this week. It wasn't wasted though, he decided to work on the stamina of those still present. Angelina was not amused. He knew when it was time to stop when she threatened him with bodily violence if he made them do the thirtieth hill run.
The twins had disappeared too, much to Angelina and Alicia's dismay.
Oliver sighed. He would have to speak to them. Between them and Harry, one of them might end up in Azkaban.
A noise caused Oliver to look up from Quidditch Weekly.
"Come on, Hermione, it's been days, why do you still have a bee in your bonnet?" Ron's voice rose over the hubbub of the common room.
"A bee, Ronald?" Hermione's icy reply cut through the common room like an arctic wind.
Silence descended.
"I am absolutely furious with you and your attitude. House elves aren't slaves and you shouldn't treat them as such!" Hermione ranted.
Ron and Seamus exchanged confused glances.
"What does this have to do with house elves?" Seamus asked.
Hermione turned a glare towards him, eyes narrowed.
"Seamus Finnegan, if you can't see that your callous behaviour has lowered my opinion of you below Ronald's, then you are blind!" she snarled.
"I don't understand, Hermione. What have we done? Is this still about socks?" Ron asked bewildered.
"Socks? Why do you keep talking about socks?" Hermione yelled. "I'm talking about elves, not socks. Why don't you go ask an elf, while you're at it you can apologise too!"
Ron scratched behind his ear, a confused expression on his face. "I think I need to speak to Harry. Have you seen him, Seamus?" he asked desperately.
"No, Dean?" Seamus deflected.
"Probably the hospital wing, unless he's hunting for who did that to Katie. I did see him here yesterday, staring at people. Bloody creepy how intense he can be," Dean said, looking up from his chess pieces.
"I'm going to find him," Ron said as he rose from the table where his chess board rested.
"Our game!" Dean protested.
"I've got you beaten in five moves," Ron called from over his shoulder as he headed for the portrait hole.
"You have? How?!" Dean cried.
—Quidditch—
"She hasn't left him yet, Ginny," Romilda said, her motions jerky, her hands constantly twitching.
"I know!" Ginny snapped. "The house is taking this completely the wrong way. They shouldn't be looking to blame anyone. Why do they care about her?"
"What are you two whispering about?" Brian asked as he came up behind them.
Ginny and Romilda shrieked and spun on the boy.
"Brian! Don't sneak up on us like that. You need a bell!" Ginny scolded.
"Eh? I wasn't quiet. You should be paying more attention. There's a prankster on the loose. What happens to Katie could happen to anyone. McClaggan is selling charms that will tell me if there's something wrong with my food. He says it's foolproof." Brian confided in them.
"Huh," Romilda said innocently, "Did he say if there are any more? How much?"
—Quidditch—
This is it. Todays the day. Another fine day for some snooping and scouting.
It was a much better day than the middle of February would suggest.
Oliver found himself at the back of the Gryffindor bleacher, surrounded by his team and listened into their good natured argument.
Katie had been released the day before. She was still pale and clung to Harry like a second skin.
Credit to Harry, he was solicitous and did not complain.
Anita kept a hold of Oliver's hand when he wasn't making notes.
"We're going to have to swap seats, 'Nita." he said quietly.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because you keep holding my right hand and I'm right handed," Oliver said, not taking his eyes off the action above him.
Anita had adapted to being a quidditch widow quickly. She picked her moments to get some intimacy quite well. She stood and allowed Oliver to shuffle over a seat behind her.
"Okay, I won't be letting go of this one though." Anita smirked at him.
Angelina gave them a piercing stare, as if she was studying an unknown magical species.
"This is really weird. You're not allowed a personal life, Ollie. You're the Gryffindor quidditch captain," she said, to the chuckles and nods of agreement from students around her
"You're telling me, very unexpected—" Oliver stopped speaking mid-sentence, distracted by a Wronski Feint.
"Ollie," Anita said warningly.
Angelina and Alicia laughed.
"Hmm?" Oliver leant towards her without taking his eyes off the action.
"Ollie? Finish your sentence," she said "Very unexpected and…?"
Oliver looked at her, and his focus switched to Angelina and back. What were they talking about again before that Wronski had distracted him? The memory rushed back.
"Oh, that. Sorry. Very unexpected, but very welcome. I didn't know what I was missing." He hurried to cover up his blunder.
Harry, who sat in the row in front, twisted and offered his fist for Oliver to bump.
"Nice, Ollie, good save." Harry praised his friend, then Katie jabbed him in the ribs.
"Argh! What was that for, woman?!" he cried.
"Don't defend him, let him dig his own way out." Katie said and snuggled further into his side.
Anita joined in Angelina and Alicia's laughter.
"Ooohhh!" The crowd gasped, as one they looked at the pitch to see what had caused that reaction.
A mid air collision caused a collective intake of breath. Players and brooms hurtled to the ground in a tangle, completely uncontrolled. Heidi Macavoy feverishly disentangled herself from Roger Davis as they plummeted. She kicked him away just as the cushioning charms placed on the pitch slowed them rapidly to a fast run down from Hogwarts train speed. Macavoy's shriek and Davis' deeper frantic yell cut off with a thud and a clatter.
Players from both sides, Hooch and Madam Pomfrey converged on the collection of wood and bodies. The crowd surged to their feet with collective cry, necks craned and omnioculars zoom in.
Angelina stood, one hand clasped Alicia's forearm and the other creeped up to cover her mouth "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, "this is my last nightmare."
"We've had the safety charms in place since my grandad broke both his legs when a bludger took his broom tail off. I've heard traditionalists say it's against the spirit of the game. I don't think Roger or Heidi would agree with that," Oliver said quietly.
"When was that?" Alicia asked, her wide eyes still on the carnage below. .
"Nineteen thirty six. He didn't fly again." Oliver squeezed Anitas hand.
"I don't blame him," Anita whispered.
Silence descended. Madam Pomfrey arrived and waved her wand over first Heidi then Roger. She helped both players to their feet and slowly led them to the sectioned off area that she used as a triage area.
"Fifteen minute medical timeout," Madam Hooch called from the edge of the pitch while she waved her wand to summon the bludgers and quaffle to the quidditch chest.
"Have you seen the snitch, Harry?" George asked.
"Not in the last fifteen minutes." Harry shook his head. "It was under Fleet's broom, then circled the posts, but I lost it when Diggory tried the Wronski. I'm not sure either are trying that hard. They both need the points. Diggory might know where it is, he's been staying up at the Ravenclaw end for most of the last hour, keeping Chang busy."
"Those two should get a room," Angelina said snidely. "They've got eyes for each other more than the bludgers. Quidditch should be kept separate."
"If anything, to keep your head on its shoulders. Do they seem particularly vicious today?" Alicia asked.
"There is a zip in them, yes," Fred told her. "It's such a pretty head, too."
"Mine or Changs?" Alicia asked and shot him a suspicious look.
He paused slightly too long, and she jabbed him in the ribs.
"Argh, yours! Definitely yours. The prettiest head in the school." He clutched at his side and lent away from her.
Oliver ignored the flirting both above and in the seats next to him. "Diggory has got to change it up. They've defended in the same way for every 'claw attack. They will be bypassed at least twice in the next hour. Davis will pick up on that," Oliver said.
"Neither team is using the seeker as a chaser," Harry pointed out. "Is that on purpose or didn't they realise it's an option?"
"They must know. We've used you as a fourth chaser for every game apart from your first one," Oliver said to his seeker.
"Have you given any thought to what we talked about, Harry?" Oliver asked a few minutes later as the game resumed, both boys not taking their eyes off the quaffle.
Angelina, Alicia and Katie exchanged looks of amusement. It did seem like the idea of being captain was taking root in Harry.
"What talk is this?" Angelina asked Oliver.
"About me being a chaser full time," Harry said absently as he followed the play. "Bad call, they're about to lose the quaffle."
"What?!" Katie squarked and leant away from Harry to look at him properly. "When was this?"
"Oh, just before your accident," Harry said.
"Why?" Angelina asked. "Who would be seeker?"
"It's not until after you and Allie graduate. Seeker isn't the best position to be captain and we can all agree Harry will never be keeper." Oliver said. "This way, he's got at least a year to train as a chaser and choose his replacement from the workshop players."
"Eh?" Fred said. "Why is this even a conversation?"
"Seeker is the hardest position to pick and train for, look at how lucky we got when I was discovered." Harry answered for Oliver. "You've got to have a particular set of skills that are hard to identify. If I'm a chaser in my last year I can be closer to the action, call the plays more efficiently than Ollie and have a seeker and a captain in place when I'm done."
Silence greeted this from and after a second he glanced around.
The team and Anita were all staring at him open mouthed except for Oliver, who kept his gaze trained up, but had a big grin plastered on his face.
"What?" Harry asked.
"So you've agreed to be captain?" Katie asked him.
"As you said, Bluebell," Harry replied but paused to watch a Ravenclaw move above.
Fred and George snickered. Katie narrowed her eyes at them.
"I'm probably the best longer term choice and I'll try and continue Ollie's reserve team project. I like it. It's a good idea," Harry continued. A move on the pitch distracted him, and he turned to Oliver.
"They executed Pork well there, Ollie. We should practice Armitage a few times before the bird-lion game."
"I've already written it down," Oliver said smugly. "That's too close to one or two of our plays."
"Carl you mean?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, and it's variations. I'm going to kill it off, I think," Oliver decided.
—Quidditch—
The common room was packed. Another day of thunderstorms and zero degree temperatures contributed to almost every student being present to witness Ron Weasley's attempt at social suicide. Harry and Katie watched Oliver enter through the portrait hole and approach the team's seating area.
"I'm still surprised at the final score, I really didn't think that the 'Puffs had it in them." Oliver said as he dropped his bag in the pile against the wall.
"You said that yesterday Ollie, two hundred and ten to one hundred, oh my," Angelina replied, amused as he flopped down next to her. "Have you been at McGonagall's NEWTs study group again?"
"Yes, it's making more sense now, I-" Oliver broke off as a commotion by the fire drew the room's attention.
"Hermione, I can't stand it anymore! Why won't you talk to me? What have I done?" Ron stopped in front of the fireplace, hands on hips, posture aggressive.
Hermione slowly pressed a finger to the place she had read to in her tome, glanced up at him, and looked around to see who was there. She placed a bookmark in the centrefold, set it on a side table and stood.
The chatter in the spacious room stopped. The fights between those two approached legendary status, and nobody wanted to miss the latest instalment.
"Do you want to know why, Ronald? It's because the elf doesn't get a choice," Hermione cried.
Harry hid his face in his arms. Silent laughter shook him. Katie placed her hand on the back of his head and flexed her fingers through his hair.
"Are you going to stop it?" she whispered in his ear.
"I can't, I need to see how it ends," Harry whispered back.
"Well, I'm sorry!" shouted Ron.
"Don't tell me!" Hermione shouted back, "it's not me you should be apologising to!"
"I'd like a Hogwarts elf, please," Ron called.
Nothing happened. No one came. Katie nudged Harry.
"Miffy," Harry suggested.
"Miffy!" Ron called.
Miffy appeared.
"Master student called Miffy," Miffy greeted Ron.
Hermione harrumphed. Harry buried his head in his arms again and bit his fist.
"You okay there, Harry?" Katie whispered straight faced in his ear.
"Hmmmpf." Harry shook his head no.
"Miffy, I am truly sorry that you're an elf." Ron announced to Miffy loudly.
Harry squeaked, and Katie buried her face into his shoulder.
Miffy glanced around the common room at all the students who sat spellbound and silent, to Ron who held his hands out in supplication, at the back of the chair that Harry and Katie were squeezed into but faced away from the room, then at Hermione who stood arms crossed and stony faced.
Ron glanced at Hermione, eyes wide and desperate. He went down to one knee.
"Miffy, I am really, really sorry!" Ron declared.
Silence. Miffy looked at Ron as if he had lost his marbles, but that she was too polite to mention it.
"Okies master student, I be going now." Miffy said slowly and disappeared.
Hermione stalked off, and Ron sat on the floor.
"What just happened?" A Gryffindor first year, said clear as a bell and heard by the entire common room.
Unseen by the other students, Harry twisted and pulled Katie into a fierce hug. He buried his face into her shoulder and shook with laughter.
"I think he's suffered enough, don't you?" Katie asked.
"Yeah, maybe. Think I'll speak to 'Mione before bed," Harry mumbled into her t-shirt.
"Are you going to tell Ron that you've forgiven him?" She gently prodded him in the ribs.
"God, no," Harry said.
"You bad boy, Harry Potter," she stroked the back of his head.
"No one steals Harry's socks," Harry replied.
Katie giggled.
T.B.C
—