Quidditch - There Is Nothing More Important
Confessions, Conversations, Scouts and The Gryffindor Vs Ravenclaw Grudge Match
Everything you recognise belongs to JKR. Unfortunately.
Beta'd by Dorothea Greengrass much appreciated.
—Quidditch—
"Uh—Hermione, can I talk to you?" Harry asked. He shifted his feet and ran a hand through his hair.
"What's up Harry?" Hermione's voice held a hint of impatience. "I want to get to the library. I'm due to meet Padma, Su and Tony. We've started a study group." She shifted the strap of her book bag over her shoulder for emphasis.
"Alright, I'll be quick. Don't you think that Ron has learned his lesson?" His voice sounded a tad too casual.
Hermione stilled, she didn't move a muscle for a second, then let her bag slide to the ground and turned to face Harry. "I knew that didn't ring true. Were you pranking me or Ron?" There was a dangerous gleam in her eyes.
Harry took a step back. "Ron."
She smoothed her hair down over her shoulder and regarded him for a second. "You engineered that thing in the entrance hall, didn't you?"
"Engineered is a strong word, Hermione." Harry replied.
Hermione stared at him. "I'll tell Katie."
"You wouldn't!" Harry gasped yet grinned.
Hermione sighed. "She already knows, doesn't she?"
"She fell over laughing," Harry said..
Hermione cocked her head to her side. "Is his snoring that bad?"
Harry scratched his head. "It was more that he made me throw away my favourite socks."
She laughed and snorted like a pig. "That's as good a reason as any. Okay Harry, I'll ease up on him."
"Right then, we're even for my Firebolt," Harry said as he turned away.
Hermione's gasp echoed through the room. "I knew it! You pranked me, Harry Potter!" she screeched.
Harry turned his head so she could see his smirk. "Dunno what you mean 'Mione. This is about Ron snoring. Oh, and stealing my socks, of course."
Harry sauntered off and Hermione fumed silently and fingered her wand.
—Quidditch—
"Give me a minute, Harry," Oliver said quietly as he rearranged his homework table.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" Harry said and sat down at Oliver's table that was equally littered with homeworks scrolls, scraps of quidditch plays and Quaffle Weekly periodicals. Oliver's mini pitch had pride of place in the middle.
"I've spoken to McGonagall about you being captain next year and answered her concerns. She really wants to win the cup. I think she's got a bet with the other heads of house. No pressure there then."
Oliver tapped it with his wand to reset it then handed Harry a quidditch magazine.
"Here, I've just finished it. You'll have to get your own subscription for all these next year," Oliver said.
"I sent Hedwig off yesterday," Harry said.
Oliver lent back and crossed his arms, "Did you read about the Sparrows Perch a few weeks ago?"
Harry nodded. "I did. There's a tutorial on how to do it, but I haven't tried it yet."
"I know it looks dangerous, but a man of your calibre and talent will manage it no problem." Oliver gave his young friend an assuring smile.
"Okay, Ollie, I got this. I think I almost did it by accident a few years ago, anyway," Harry replied, his game face securely in place.
Oliver looked around to make sure that nobody was in hearing distance and leant towards Harry. "Only—Don't tell Katie I said that. Or the Prof. Or Madam Hooch." He over acted a shudder.
An amused grin appeared on Harry's face. "You got it, Ollie."
"Or Mrs Weasley and Hermione, Madam Pomfrey. Probably shouldn't mention it to Angie or Alicia either." This time, his shudder was real, and Harry snorted.
Three boys approached the table. Peter Brady and Miles Templeton, a fourth year and fifth year respectively, and Cormac McLaggan, a roguishly handsome fifth year. While Peter and Miles looked rather nervous, Cormac strutted along like he owned the common room and the Quidditch team lock, stock and broom stick.
Oliver suppressed a grimace. Wherever Cormac was involved, a fight wasn't far away.
"You wanted to see us?" Miles asked.
"Yes boys, give me five minutes to nip to the loo and we'll go through some plays and ideas to develop your teams and training."
—Quidditch—
Oliver sat at his homework table and looked around. This hasn't been what he had planned, not at all. Instead of one or two interested parties, maybe a couple of third or fourth years, he had maybe thirty people gathered around him. There was too many, he needed to whittle down their number to something more manageable, encourage the mediocre and weekend players that it wasn't worth their time and keep those who lived and breathed Quidditch, those would be the next generation of quidditch players.
An Idea occurred to him. Maybe he should start with some extra dry theory. Most wouldn't last five minutes once he'd begun on the reasons why a particular tactic would work better against the Ravenclaws compared to the Slytherins, and the reasons why the hawkshead formation was vital for any team and what it's limitations were.
Oliver cleared his throat. "I've asked you three here—" he paused and gave a pointed look around at the dozen or so students of varying years and Harry, who was leaning against the wall behind the crowd, flickers of movement told Oliver that he was still messing about with his practice snitch, he often employed the catch and release method to improve and maintain his reflexes while he loitered. "—to go over some tactics that might be useful for your matches at the weekend. I'm only going to review three today, go over the pros and cons and let you ask questions. If you're not sure what questions you need to ask, Harry can help you. I've had quite a few tactics conversations with him and he's getting good at seeing flaws or ideas I haven't. Any questions?"
"Yeah, I've got one, Ollie," Cormac MacLaggen said. "The weekend games are meant to be pick-up quidditch and random players. Why are you doing this?"
McLaggan had a sneer big enough for everyone present, but it was aimed at Harry. Oliver frowned. Didn't Katie keep complaining that McLaggan kept asking when she was leaving the 'scrawny' third year and wanted a real man? He sighed inwardly, What an arsehole! Yet he'd better concentrate on the task at hand. He schooled his face to a neutral expression to hide his aversion to the git.
"This is for the future of Gryffindor, Cormac. I want to use the Gryffindor teams as a kind of reserve squad. Get players good enough to play in a house cup match if one of my players are injured or make it easier for the next crop of players to move into the Lions team. Build a squad really. Harry will be continuing this next year and—"
"Potter? Why? McGonagall isn't making him captain, is she? You've got to be joking, Wood!" McLaggen's loud voice cut him off. The idiot rose from his seat and nudged the table hard enough to dislodge Oliver's carefully stacked homework scrolls. "What the hell do you know, Potter?" He sneered at Harry again.
Harry reciprocated MacLaggan's sneer with an unfathomable look and kept playing with his snitch. Good on him for not taking the bait.
Oliver cleared his throat to get MacLaggan's attention. "If you're going to question me in this, McLaggan, there's the door." Oliver indicated the portrait hole, and McLaggan sat. "This is to help you and the house, there is nothing personal here and no room for jealousy. It's on you."
McLaggan huffed and rose from his seat again. The crowd stared at him and whispered. Oliver read the room and could see that no one would be upset if McLaggan left.
"Give him a chance, Corm. This is the first time I've had much to do with plays apart from quidditch weekly." Miles said unhappily.
"We don't need this, Miles. Come on," McLaggan said as he rose and threw another sneer at Harry.
"No, I'm staying," Miles said, arms crossed.
"Suit yourself. Pete?" McLaggan asked the other boy.
"No, you're being a dick, Corm," Peter Brady said.
Colour shot into MacLaggan's face. "Whatever," McLaggan said as he pushed through the crowd, this time with a murderous glance at Harry.
"Why did he come then?" Peter asked, annoyed. "And what does he have against Potter?"
"He's been pestering Katie to go out with him for weeks," Harry said from the corner. "She told him each time that she's not interested."
"I wonder why," a girl in the crowd said sarcastically.
Oliver huffed out a sigh. "Anyway, if you two are staying, this is the hawkshead formation, we use it to protect the quaffle…"
—Quidditch—
The students scattered. Harry and Oliver remained and watched as the tiny players zoomed silently around their mini-pitch.
"Well, that went well." Harry huffed as he sat next to Oliver.
"It did, after McLaggan left. I would recommend that even if he's the best keeper you've ever seen you don't select him next year," Oliver said quietly. He directed his wand towards the miniature pitch, several wand swirls caused the miniature players to loop-de-loop.
"Pete was right, he is a dick, just looking for an excuse to start a fight. Katie said to tell her the next time he says anything. She's been learning the bat bogey hex from her cousin in Hufflepuff. If he hadn't brought it on himself, I almost feel sorry for him. Katie is a force to be reckoned with when she is angry." Harry chuckled and gave Oliver a lopsided grin. "No fear there Ollie, even if he would accept, I wouldn't pick him. We would not win a game with that prick in goal. He could have an argument in an empty room." Harry sighed.
Oliver sighed in agreement and packed away the mini pitch with another flick of his wand.
"Anyway, Davis will do more than just fly in Hawkshead formation. I think we'll let the girls freestyle the first half an hour or so unless Stretton gets lucky. He's their dangerman, but he's limited." He settled back into his chair and turned his attention to the parchment he had flattened against the table. It was much easier to concentrate on quidditch than trying to figure out how to deal with obnoxious gits. The latter only gave you a headache.
"I saw, he only passes and shoots with his right hand. Is that new or did I miss it the last time he played?" Harry asked.
"He catches fine on both hands, but transfers to his right every time. It's a shame, he's their best chaser by a country mile, but probably their biggest liability. The girls had him on toast last year. Davis won't have noticed and won't do anything about it."
Harry scratched his neck and checked his notes, "I saw that Inglebee has a blind spot underneath him to the right. The Snakes almost had him off his broom three times, it was only their poor aim which saved him, they noticed too."
A broad grin appeared on Oliver's face. They'd made the right decision to pick Harry as their new captain. He had a good eye for the weaknesses of players and knew instinctively how to act on that, and he was only a third year. He'd go far in quidditch if he continued on this path.
"Good catch." He smiled at the younger boy, then shook his head in exasperation at Davis' incompetence. "That's poor coaching, that is. Fred was like that at first. I told Charlie about it, and George had a blast batting bludgers at him at random times. I think he still does it." Oliver smirked. "He did it during a match once. That was the angriest I've ever seen either of them, the closest they've come to fighting here at school."
A book slammed down on the desk between them.
Harry and Oliver jumped out of their skin. They exchanged a look before they turned to face the grinning twins.
"He still does it, it's bloody annoying." Fred huffed. The next moment, a knowing grin appeared on his face. " Got you there, didn't I".
"We could hear you coming a mile away!" Harry blustered.
"It's the smell that gave you away," Oliver agreed.
"Sure it is," Fred said, "You both jumped a mile."
Oliver straightened. "Piss off! What do you want? This is an important quidditch captain conversation," he said and looked down his nose at Fred. .
Harry, Fred and George snorted.
"The prefect bathroom is free for the next hour, interested?" George said..
"How the hell do you know that?" Harry asked.
"Perce had it booked, but he's been roped into overseeing a detention for McGonagall. He's just been complaining about it. Grab your swim shorts and we'll go now."
Harry and Oliver exchanged a look and collected their scrolls from the table.
"Meet us here in five," George said, "and tell no one." He raised his hand to run it through his hair and grimaced when he touched the bare skin of his skull.
Harry's eyes followed his movement, and he sniggered. "Go on George, what did you say to Katie?" He smirked up at George's hair, or the lack of it. A two inch stripe of bare skin reflected the firelight.
George grimaced. "I can't get it to regrow." He ran a hand over his hair once again—or what was left of it.
Harry chortled. "Does it go all the way down? Your eyebrows seem a bit far apart, too."
George froze. He pushed his hand inside his waistband and blanched.
His three teammates howled with laughter and half the common room turned their attention towards the giggling trio.
"Well, she did warn you." Harry sniggered. "Was it Belly again?"
"Nope." Fred looked very smug, "Apparently she doesn't like anyone else but you calling her Bluebell."
"That is true," George agreed as tried to comb his hair towards his crown with his hands. "But I have since discovered that she really doesn't like being called Bluebelly."
George pulled his shirt up and bared his lower torso. It was bright blue.
Harry, Fred and Oliver collapsed in howls again.
—Quidditch—
Steam rose from the baths as the boys reclined in the water. There was silence for a minute apart from ripples as the disturbed water settled.
George sighed. "The prefects have it easy. There should be more of these available."
"So their patrols and prefect duties don't earn them a little bonus?" Harry asked. He glanced from George to Fred. "Why didn't we invite the girls again?"
"Two reasons, Harry, my boy. The main one is that we wanted to ask you something personal and hadn't found the best time."
"And now is the best time?" Oliver asked, while silently enjoying Harry's alarmed expression.
"Yes, and the other reason is that they weren't in the common room and we didn't think about it. On the prefect thing—" George turned towards his brother "Now, Fred— Fred?"
Fred wasn't there. It took the three boys a moment to discover that he had sunk under the bubbles and was currently floating on his back.
The three boys sent a geyser of hot water splashing over Fred, and he came back up coughing and spluttering.
Water streamed down his face, a swiping hand cleared as much as it could. "Gak! What was that for?"
"Harry asked you a question," George said straight-faced.
"Hey, I asked you!" Harry protested. Oliver chuckled and sidled away from his seeker, just in case. Whatever the twins wanted from Harry, in this surrounding it probably was going to be messy.
"Just accept your punishment, Harry," George said conversationally as he turned to face him.
Ah, there it began already. Oliver leaned back and made himself comfortable to enjoy the show.
"Punishment? Why? What did I do?" Harry backed away. Both Fred and George advanced on him, an unholy gleam in their eyes, and they leant forward in an aggressive stance.
Suddenly Fred turned and grabbed George in a seatbelt tackle and heaved his brother over his shoulder.
George's eyes bulged comically, hands clawed at the ceiling as his startled shriek was cut off and he too disappeared under the bubbles.
"This bath is great," Oliver observed. The only thing missing was the popcorn.
"It's definitely big enough, it's like a swimming pool," Harry agreed as George resurfaced coughing and spluttering.
Fred planted a big palm in the centre of George's chest and pushed down, George only had the time to cast an injured, aggrieved glare before his gasped "NO!" was cut off again.
The three boys shared a chuckle as George slowly refloated a good three metres away from the other boys. Flattened ginger locks which emphasised the bald patch preceded furrowed eyebrows and suspicious eyes. His nose remained hidden by the bubbles, and his breath caused the bubbles to contract and billow.
"Not funny, you ginger tosser." George glared at his twin.
Laughter rang out again and the sound echoed off the vaulted ceiling and stone walls.
Fred settled against the far wall, arms stretched to either side of him. "You think we're ready for the 'Claws at the weekend, Ollie?"
"Yeah, I think so, as long as Katie is fit and ready." Oliver glanced at Harry with a silent question.
"Pomfrey says so. Katie ran out of the door the moment she proclaimed her healed. If you try to bench her, be prepared for bat bogeys," Harry replied with a grin.
"Katie, too? It's bad enough with Ginny. Katie is more powerful and knows more magic. Bugger, we better not prank her again, Fred," George said.
"She'll be ready. I can cover chaser if she needs a break," Harry added, ignoring George's remark.
"What's this?" Fred asked.
"We were talking about what happens if someone is injured or is weakened like Katie. The usual thing is to draft a reserve, but you can't during a match. What happens is the team with one player less always loses. Harry and I have thought of a way around that. If Harry is trained well enough to chase as well as seek then you two batter the opposing seeker to stop him seeking. It's not really done at international level, but as long as Harry doesn't have the quaffle in hand inside the scoring zone we can do what we want," Oliver said as he swished his hand through the water.
The twins whistled in appreciation. "Clever," Fred said, and they both bowed to their teammates.
Oliver grinned at their antics. The next moment, his good mood faded when he thought of why they had to think of that new strategy.
"Any idea on who did it?" he asked.
Harry grunted and shook his head.
"Ginny denied it up and down, then cast bat bogeys at us. She got really aggressive, and her aim's better too. No, we will need to trap whoever did it. Harry's already agreed to be the bait," Fred said.
"I want this sorted. The lesson will be learned, this isn't going to be repeated." Harry agreed. He looked uncharacteristically grim and suddenly much older.
The hairs at the nape of Oliver's head rose. He didn't want to be in the shoes of that so-called prankster when Harry got to them.
The twins also sobered at Harry's small outburst and exchanged a look.
"Harry, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," George said. "What happened two years ago? The thing with Quirrell. I wanted to ask before, but Hermione wouldn't let us."
"Oh that." Harry's jaw clenched. "Well, I killed him."
Silence greeted his confession.
The twins gaped at Harry. This had to be a first.
Oliver regarded the adolescent boy before him. Harry had sped up his training quite a lot this year. His body was lean and firm, although still on the thin side because of a recent growth spurt. He didn't look much like the tiny and much too thin first year anymore he remembered from the sorting, yet strong enough to take on a fully qualified wizard and kill him.
Harry shifted under their combined gazes and seemed to find the bubbles in front of him very interesting.
"Say what?" Oliver at last broke the silence.
"Didn't you hear anything about it? It wasn't a secret. I just didn't want to talk about it," Harry said quietly, still looking at the bubbles.
"Only what Dumbledore said at the Leaving Feast that year," Fred said.
Harry took a deep breath and looked up to meet Oliver's eyes, then flicked towards each twin. "Well then—Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort. He had old snake face on the back of his head, under the turban. It didn't do him any good, he was already half dead when the school year started and used the garlic to hide the smell of decay, I think. At least that was what Hermione said. He was after the Philosopher's Stone so he could live forever. Dumbledore had hidden it on the third floor, guarded by Fluffy. I was in real trouble—what?" Harry paused, a puzzled frown on his face, and looked at his friends.
Oliver didn't realise he had been gaping until he saw the mouths of the twins hanging open. Merlin, Voldemort had been in the castle for almost a year and none of the teachers realised? And what was that about the Philosopher's Stone? Until today he had thought that was a myth. However, that was not even the most confusing part. He raised his hand like he was in class.
"Fluffy?" he asked.
Harry snorted. "Oh, that was Hagrid's three headed Cerberus. He was harmless when you got past the slobbering and the teeth, a good song or melody sent him straight to sleep, any music really."
Silence descended again and lasted for several seconds, while Oliver tried to digest that last tidbit. A three headed dog was just what was missing to give the story the final touch. What had Dumbledore been thinking to allow such a creature in a school full of children? Not for one second did he doubt Harry's story, the quiet manner in which Harry delivered it and the lack of any boasting or emphasising his part convinced him of that.
"Fluffy? Hagrid named that bloody great vicious beast, Fluffy?" George deadpanned. "Motherf-"
He was cut off by Fred.
"Music? Music! We must have spent five Galleons on bloody steak!" Fred exclaimed.
Harry grinned at that. "That was only the first obstacle. There was a twenty metre drop down a pitch black trapdoor under him."
"Harry," Oliver asked, "Do you have any more surprises?"
"One or two," Harry replied, swimming away a few strokes and back again.
"Tell it from the beginning and don't stop, we'll look suitably horrified and ask questions at the end," Oliver told him.
"Alright, the beginning. Did Ron tell you about the troll at Halloween..."
—Quidditch—
Katie Bell sat in a stiffed back chair, Crookshanks curled up in her lap. She gazed down at George Weasley, who stood in front of her, head bowed and hands folded in front of his body, like a supplicant. She didn't say a word, just stroked the fur of the contentedly purring cat over and over again while listening to George's ramblings.
Oliver rubbed weary eyes. The last few minutes had been surreal and it would probably get worse.
"I'm really, really sorry, Katie. I promise to never call you B—" George cut himself off "—Any nickname at all. Ever again."
Oliver half expected him to go down on his knees. He and his teammates sat on a sofa to the side and gaped open mouthed at the scene before them. The tableau was an odd one: Katie shrouded in shadow, her hand the only clearly visible part, slowly stroking mottled brown fur. It reminded him of a movie he'd seen on the telly at his Muggle relatives. Something about a suave agent in the service of the Muggle queen. The only thing he remembered about the guy was that all the women seemed to swoon as soon as he entered the room. The villain was more interesting. He'd always been stroking a cat on his lap while he ordered his minions to commit murder or had a sparring of words with the hero.
"That hat looks ridiculous," Katie replied. "Take it off."
Crookshanks purred louder and louder and had begun to sound like a muggle car.
George sighed. "Must I?"
Katie nodded once, an unholy gleam in her eyes.
George sighed again, deeper this time, and took the hat off. He kept it in his hands, twisting it in concern awaiting Katie's verdict, turning it into a creased ball.
Beside Oliver, Harry snorted. Katie's eyes flicked to her boyfriend for a split second, and Harry turned his snort into a hasty cough.
It had taken George two days of humiliation and Slytherin jibes for him to crack and come crawling to Katie to beg for forgiveness because his hair still hadn't regrown. Oliver had twice been about to speak to her and get her to relent, George had missed two bludgers in training the day before.
"If you want my forgiveness and the counter curse then you'll have to go on a quest. A very dangerous quest that will take every ounce of your skill and determination." Katie decreed.
George licked his lips and glanced at his brother. Fred's eyes sparkled. In fact the only one who wasn't amused was Oliver. This was a distraction from the game at the weekend.
"Snape has a marble bust of Salazar Slytherin on his desk. I want you to bring it here by tomorrow night." Katie said her lips quivered and she squeezed them into a thin line.
"No he doesn't. I've seen his desk." George argued.
"In his private potions lab he does. My cousin told me about it. He had to change out Snape's cauldrons by hand while Snape grades papers at his desk. It was big and ugly." Katie said.
She paused in her petting of Crookshanks to cover her mouth. Crookshanks stopped purring and glared up at her until her hand resumed its task.
George paused his mouth open to respond but nothing came out. A frown appeared on his face, eyes flicked around the room.
There was silence around the common room. It was packed but as silent as a grave. Oliver had a concerned look on his face and was leaning forward.
"I want it on the mantelpiece before midnight, and I want you to bring one of Snape's robes too. See if you can find out how it billows." Katie said ominously.
"No I'm not doing that, he'll kill me. Or McGonagall will." George found his voice.
"Okay George, you've got until eight o'clock now. You'd better hurry." Katie challenged.
George frown opened his mouth to speak again, ran a trembling hand over his head and nodded resolutely. He stood and faced the portrait hole.
"George Weasley! You stay right there!" Oliver had bolted to his feet so fast that he could have apparated.
Whatever else Oliver had been about to say, accusatory finger pointed and mouth open to speak would not be heard. The common room erupted in laughter and cheers. Oliver's hand dropped to his side and he gazed around him in dismay. Crookshanks had bolted from the room and Katie had slid out of her seat and lay clutching her ribs in glee.
The quidditch players on the sofa had become a band of gibbering monkeys and George was still in position, hand clamped over his mouth and quivered in mirth.
Oliver crossed his arms and glowered at the student body surrounding him and he eventually cracked a smile as he turned and saw tears stream down Anita's pink cheeks as she hugged her friend to keep upright.
By the time the tide of humour had passed Oliver cocked an eyebrow at George and Katie in silent demand of an answer, Katie burst into giggles which caused a chain reaction and set the room rocking again.
A minute later Professor McGonagall entered through the portrait hole raised an eyebrow and turned up her lip. She met Oliver's resigned stare turned around and left again.
Sickles and knuts exchanged hands and he watched Harry become suddenly richer. Oliver gave him a betrayed look and Harry's mute response was to offer him a single bronze knut, Oliver glared at him then snatched the coin from Harry's palm and stomped away to the boy's staircase.
—Quidditch—
"Ginny, she's still with him!" Romilda complained. "They seem closer than ever now. She should be afraid of more pranks from us, not pulling them with your brothers."
"I don't know what to do, I told you that they cornered me last week with Percy. I said that it wasn't me that pranked her but they didn't believe me, Perce tried his McGonagall look he's been practising but it didn't work, he just looks squinty and constipated. In the end I cast a couple of bat bogeys at them to make them go away." Ginny replied.
The pair sat at a desk at the back of the library on one of the upper levels. It was their favourite spot as it offered a clear view of most of the entire library and the table where Madam Pince stamped her books.
"That's a right useful spell, thanks for teaching it to me. Issy used it on a couple of Slytherins the other day, she said it worked great." Romilda sat back in thought. "We'll have to come up with something else. Something to really scare the hell out of her and send her running."
They sat in silence for a full minute.
"Oh this is silly. Let's go get Isabel and Carmen, maybe they have some ideas." Ginny decided.
They rose and left at a trot only to turn around at the stairs to go collect their homework scrolls and book bags.
—Quidditch—
In the Gryffindor second year girls dorm a council of war was held, two stuffed teddy bears had to be moved from the homework table they gathered around. The curtains were drawn and only a couple of bedside lamps were lit which gave the room a small and cosy ambiance.
"It didn't work, she's still with him and I need-" Ginny cut herself when she realised she had risen out of her seat and the other three warily watched her.
Ginny retook her seat, cleared her throat and pushed a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. She squeezed her eyes closed and clenched her hands under the table. Thoughts whirled fast and faster across her minds eye, like a carousel. He's my hero, I can't lose him, she's stealing him from me! Deep breaths Ginny, deep breaths what would mum say?
Romilda gave Ginny an odd look, "We need to prank her again, really get in her face and scare the hell out of her. You've all seen the way Potter is around her, we need to convince him that she's not good enough for him." She said passionately.
"Wasn't the first one enough?" Isabel chewed her bottom lip. "They don't know who did it and if we do another one we'll definitely be caught. I don't want to get in trouble."
"Issy, you can't back out now. We all agreed that it needs to be done, we won't get in trouble." Romilda smirked her fingers drummed gently on the table top.
"I'm still not clear on why though? Isn't it Harry's choice who he's with?" Isabel said weakly.
"Of course it is, but we all agree that Bell is the wrong choice so we should do something about it. How can he make the right choice if he's still with her?" Romilda assured the girl.
Isabel shifted uncomfortably and kept her gaze on the varnished wood. Romilda watched her, her smirk grew sharper.
"Another potion?" Isabel asked as she looked towards Ginny.
As the girls talked Ginny took deep breaths and felt her minds calm. She started to think objectively again.
"Let's do something different. Maybe a plant? There's loads of dangerous ones. We can't play it safe." Ginny said.
"She's a tough quidditch player, going up against the Slytherins is scary. We need to up our game. What kind of poisonous plants can we easily get our hands on? Or a trap to make her think she's lost forever?" Romilda asked.
Carmen shrugged, "maybe, how about an ambush? We get her down a corridor on her own and throw some curses at her? There's loads of abandoned classrooms."
"The dungeons are dark and scary," Ginny said. "We could convince her to go down there?"
"That'll be hard to do. A compulsion charm? I don't know it." Carmen replied.
"We could ask Hermione again?" Ginny suggested.
"You think we should. She's Harry's friend and I can't say she'd be that happy to be a part of this." Carmen said.
Ginny reluctantly nodded, "I suppose we could ask someone else."
"Or we could research it ourselves." Carmen said as she adjusted her hair. "Less people, less mouths who can tell on us."
"If we were to curse her, what would we use? We don't want to kill her, or hurt her, just scare her." Isabel spoke quietly.
"What are you talking about?" Romilda sneered, "what do you think the boil curse potion did? That's really painful, even worse if it's switched magically like we did."
"What? I didn't know that!" Carmen exclaimed. "How much worse?"
"The clothes rubbing against skin will burst the boils. It is meant to be horrible." Romilda smirked. "Why do you think we went with switching?"
Carmen and Isabel stared at her, horrified. Isabel started to rise but Romilda grabbed her arm and nipped the skin.
"Rommy what?! That hurts, let go!" She cried.
"Oh grow up Isabel. You can't leave now, we're in until the end." Romilda snarled. "Tell her Ginny."
Isabel slowly sat and Romilda kept her hand in place but eased on the pressure. All eyes turned to Ginny who gazed horrified at Romilda.
Her gaze wavered and flicked between Isabel and Romilda.
"Y- yeah we've got to, erm, Harry being with her is wrong." Her voice strengthened as she met Romilda gaze.
"So we're clear, Carmen and Isabel will research curses we can use, Ginny and I will look for plants and find the place for the ambush." Romilda instructed.
She rose and headed for the door "Keep it together," she snapped as she left.
Silence descended as the three others watched each other carefully. Isabel's bottom lip trembled slightly.
—Quidditch—
Angelina and Alicia approached Oliver and the Weasley twins as they sat on sofas by the fireplace, Oliver stared ahead and did not react to any question or joke aimed His way.
"Ollie, you alright?" Angelina asked.
"He's had a shock, leave him for a minute he'll be alright." Fred told her.
"A bad shock or a good one?" Angelina replied.
"Dunno," said george. "Is it bad or good Ollie?"
Oliver didn't respond.
George snorted, "several Quidditch scouts are going to be here tomorrow and he's freaking out. Look, see, his eye is twitching."
"Fred." Oliver spoke for the first time in half an hour.
"Yes, Ollie?" Fred glanced over.
"Fuck off." Oliver snapped.
As the laughter died down Fred and George glanced at each other and simultaneously rose, gripped Harry's upper arms as he made to sit and dragged him off to a dimly lit study table located in an alcove in the corner of the common room.
"Bye Angie, Allie, don't wait up." Harry called as he receded.
"Wonder what those three are up to now." Angelina asked as she sat in Harry's unoccupied chair.
Oliver stirred and blinked several times. "Oh, they've come up with a scheme to catch Katie's attackers."
"How can they know if they will get the right ones?" There's a hundred students in Gryffindor alone!"
"More in Hufflepuff." Alicia agreed.
"They were muttering about magical traces and clues, I don't know. As long as they can play at the weekend and don't get arrested I'm not bothered, Katie's back in training. There are more important things going on than revenge."
"Ballycastle? The Arrows?"
"Yeah and Puddlemere, one was at our first game against the 'Puffs too but I don't know which one. McGonagall only mentioned it today. She thought I knew."
"Wow, we better put on a show then." Alicia said, "it's going to be a big day, I think I'll go get ready for bed. Night Ollie."
"Night Ollie," Angelina echoed.
"Night girls, can you tell Katie that I want to do a final brief tomorrow before breakfast?" Oliver asked.
"Will do, at seven?" Angelina asked and at his nod the chasers made for the stairs.
Oliver slumped back into the sofa cushions and sighed, he puffed his cheeks out in an attempt to relieve the tension in his face.
—Quidditch—
The air was sharp and clear on game day. Not a cloud in the sky and unseasonably warm.
The Agreement between Oliver and Roger Davies was that after everyone was dressed and ready, the Ravens would use the boys locker rooms for their final team talk and the Lions would use the girls.
Harry gave a friendly nod to Cho Chang as they passed but she blushed and ducked her head.
Girls were weird. Back in September she hadn't even acknowledged his existence.
Oliver stood and cleared his throat. "How are you Katie? No problems?"
"No Ollie, I'm good to go." Katie assured him.
"Okay," Oliver sniffed and rubbed his nose, "This is it team, the big one, the one we're been waiting for, been training for. It's been a hard few months, shit weather, hill runs," he averted his gaze at a glare from Angelina, "slimy snakes and far too much homework."
"You can say that again," Muttered George.
"We've trained harder, are fitter and have better players across the board than the Ravenclaws, we are odds on favourites to win as long as Chang doesn't catch the snitch inside the first minute." Oliver continued.
"No chance," Harry commented.
"Chasers, do your thing for the first thirty minutes, call the plays between yourselves and test Davis and Stretton, we saw in their last game that they can't keep the pace up for more than half an hour, I'll start calling plays at that point. Don't use Harry until then, he's got his own job to do." Oliver shifted his gaze between the three chasers.
"Seeker, we've spoken about this, we need to maximise our score, four fifty plus will be best, I think about four hours of play will see us right. Keep Chang busy and distracted, she's a good player and will know that their best chance of a win will be to end the game as quickly as possible." Oliver regarded his seeker who nodded in agreement. "This is a different way to play and a different mindset to any game you've played before. We need the time to build a score."
"Okay Ollie," Harry said.
"Beaters, you'll need heads on a swivel, Inglebee and Samuels are no slouches. You're our first line of defence, keep it tight and do your part when the plays are called. Anything to say?"
Silence and head shakes greeted him.
A horn sounded in the distance.
He took a deep breath "Remember that we live for this, and that it's meant to be fun. Bring it in."
The team stood and gathered around him and piled their hands together.
"Play for each other, play for Gryffindor and play to win. Lions on three, Three."
"Lions!" The team chanted and pumped their hands.
There were no more words, nothing left to say; they collected brooms and beater bats then filed out of the door.
The wall of noise that collided with their bodies almost had a physical presence.
Harry let out an explosive breath. He bounced on the balls of his feet a few times and looked down at his hands, the tremble was barely noticeable even though it felt like an earthquake.
A hand slid into his, fingers squeezed automatically and Harry looked up into turquoise eyes.
"Alright?" Katie asked quietly.
Harry gave her a confident smile, "Just nerves, will be gone in a minute, you?"
"Ditto, my heart is racing." Katie confided as she chewed her lip.
Oliver and the Weasley twins were airborne already.
Harry mounted his Firebolt and kicked off, he soared up to be level with Oliver and took up his position in the standard flyby formation, the keeper was up front, then the beaters side by side, the three chasers in a rank behind with Harry tucked in at the back as tail end charlie.
He wasn't sure what a tail end charlie was but that was what Oliver had called it.
"Here come the teams," Lee Jordans voice boomed out across the stadium, "Wood, Weasley, Weasley, Spinnet, Bell, Johnson and Potter!"
The cheers seemed so loud to Harry as he whipped across the bleachers, the boos zipped by as they passed over the Slytherin stands then they were over one set of hoops then they looped around the far side.
"The Ravenclaw team is airborne and taking their lap," announced Marcus Turner, "Page, Inglebee, Samuels, Davis, Stretton, Burrow and Chang!"
The flyby was not quite as crisp as the Gyffindors had been to Harry's trained eye. Not as well drilled, exactly as he and Oliver had discussed.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the teams faced off, on either side of Hooch in the middle of the pitch. She cast an intense look at each player in term.
"I want a good clean game, I don't expect much going off your last games but all the same. If I have to call for blatching or what I deem is an unsafe approach it is a professional foul and I will be deducting points. Is that clear?" Madam Hooch spoke loudly enough for the entire stadium to hear.
"Yes ma'am," Oliver agreed.
"Of course," Roger said.
"Very well then, take your places, good luck and may the best team win." Madam Hooch descended to the quidditch chest, took a final look around then released the snitch, the bludgers followed even the sound of them accelerating reverberated with violence.
She remounted her broom and climbed to the chaser's level, quaffle wedged under her arm. Without a further word she flung the quaffle high into the air and the game was on.
"The quaffle toss has been made and the game is on," Lee announced, "Spinnet has snaffled the quaffle from a slow witted Ravenclaw chaser."
"Mr Jordan!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed.
"And a bludger almost took her head off causing her to drop it. Possession Ravenclaw with Burrow, not so slow witted eh Lee?" Called Turner with a barely restrained snigger. "Pass to Stretton who puts on a burst of acceleration and pass to, oh! Intercepted by Bell. She passes to Johnson who sloth rolls to avoid a bludger aimed by Inglebee and drop-passes to Spinnet. That was sharp play."
"Yes it was, come on Girls!" Lee continues enthusiastically. "Spinnet to Potter, who lobs cross field to Bell who enters the scoring zone and is brought up short to avoid another bludger. Quaffle lost, recovered by Davis."
—Quidditch—
The game continued at breakneck pace, for the next half an hour, not a goal scored but five saves made by Oliver and seven from Grant Page, a few he was lucky to make.
"I've got to say," a breathless Turner commented, "this must be a record for the longest that a Hogwarts match has gone without a score. Potter has the quaffle, a bludger has been sent Chang's way again, he is diving below the level of play and throws a pass up between the Weasley twins to be caught by Spinnet, a long pass up to Johnson who is high above the level of play and she glides along, a signal has been given, this might be the first Gryffindor play. Have you seen one yet, Lee?"
"No I don't think so Marcus, they've been playing quite loose for a while now, Johnson dives and the quaffle is with Bell. I didn't even see the pass, drop pass to Spinnet and a change of direction. Blocking flight by a Weasley and- Here's Potter from out of nowhere streaking towards the goal area, Chang hot on his tail. He has the quaffle, Chang impedes her own defending chasers, Potter passes before he enters the zone. Johnson shoots at the left hand hoop, she scores! Ten to zero for Gryffindor!"
The Gryffindor stands erupt in cheers, hoots and hollers, the noise is tumultuous. Boos echo from elsewhere.
"Davis is complaining to the ref that Potter crossed the line but she indicates no, it was a legal play." Turner announces, "Page recovers the quaffle and passes forward to Davis, he's not happy."
Harry smirked and glanced over his shoulder. His smirk dropped away. Chang was within a few metres, she wasn't paying too much attention to the match around her.
Oh well, her loss.
Harry dropped into a vertical dive and powered on. He became a red streak.
"Potter is in free fall!" Lee interrupted Turner's commentary, "Chang is close behind but falling back quickly. Has he seen the snitch?"
"No it must be a feint. Look Chang has pulled out and is desperately searching ahead." Turner said.
Harry's dive had been calculated. He has been diving straight at Page and his rings, it has allowed Katie a shot on goal but her aim had been wayward.
From his new proximity to Page and Stretton he could see the uncertainty and confusion etched on their faces, he could hear the rasp and pant of their out of control breathing.
Time to strike.
Harry streaked towards the flying wedge his chasers had clustered into and blew around them in a sharp circle, kicking his tail out in a drift.
"Air Jordan!" He called and tweaked his aim to fly straight through the middle and snagged the quaffle from under Katie's arm.
"What's this?" Turner exclaimed, "it looks like Potter has called a play to himself. That can't be in the rules, Professor surely?"
"Of course it is Mr Turner," Professor Flitwick squeaked, "as long as-."
He was cut off by an excited yell from Lee.
"Harry has passed to a Weasley twin! What?" Lee squarked. "George has flicked the quaffle on to Fred who has batted it down range to Angelina! I've never seen the like!"
Every Ravenclaw player stopped playing and stared at Madam Hooch and just shrugged and held an arm out.
Play on.
"I say!" Flitwick shouted.
The Ravenclaws realised their folly and took up the chase again but it was far too late.
"Page is defending against four players! Potter has broken off and is diving! Chang is after hi- Gryffindor scores! Bell has bamboozled Page and- Potter has seen the snitch! He's weaving! Under the Slytherin stands! I can't see!" Lee was beside himself with excitement.
Every pair of eyes had tracked him under the bleachers and with bated breath watched as he reappeared above the teachers stand. He hovered and searched, head twitched and jerked like a bird of prey.
He looped a lazy circle across the stadium and took up position high above, not once did he acknowledge the full attention of those present that he commanded.
"The snitch has disappeared and so has the quaffle. Oh there it is. Stretton has picked it up from the grass and play resumes." Lee continued in a calmer voice.
"No it doesn't." Turner interrupted, "Davis has called for a timeout."
"Five minutes." Madam Hooch announced as she descended to the commentary box where she had stowed her thermos.
The Gryffindor team gathered in front of Oliver's hoops and high fived each other.
"Good call Harry. You beat me to calling that by a few seconds, I was trying to get your attention. We've got them on the ropes. Keep the pressure on kids, this could be a big score if we keep playing this well. Any comments?"
"Flash! You scared the shit out of me!" Katie punched him on the arm. The team joined in with Harry's laughter.
"Sorry Bluebell, it had to be quick and brutal. The bludgers have been quiets lads, Get them ticking over and keep Stretton honest. He's been the biggest threat to Ollie's hoops." Harry said.
"You got it boss," George said with a nod and a tugged forelock.
"Oi, he's not the boss yet." Oliver interrupted. "Hooch is back, go for Air Jordan again to confuse them then hit them with the creature series. Dragon, Gorgon, Medusa and finish it off with Clive. I'm enjoying your accuracy girls, keep it quick and sharp. Harry lay off the quaffle and put Chang through her paces for a while. If we keep changing it up we should keep the scoreboard ticking over nicely."
"Time," Madam Hooch called from the middle, the quaffle tucked under her arm.
"The teams have returned to the middle and the quaffle is in play!" Turner began, "Lee, am I right in thinking that there hasn't been a single foul called yet?"
"Not that I've seen Marcus, we've got one hell of a game on our hands here. A good day for professional scouts to be here. So much talent for them to see too. Ravenclaw are on the charge, Davis to Stretton, flung to Burrow and oh! a nasty belt by a bludger brings that promising attack to a rapid end." Lee announced.
"No it didn't. Recovered by Stretton, the Gryffindor chasers have all turned down field. Wood is on his own!" Turner exclaimed.
Strettons arm was cocked to fire but he held on a fraction too long, he had to manoeuvre for a right handed shot. The quaffle was plucked out of the air one handed by Oliver.
A groan rose from a section of stands followed by a round of applause.
—Quidditch—
Hours one and two showed the gulf in talent and fitness, the Gryffindors pulled out play after play, a seemingly never ending production line of inventive ways to bypass a tired and frustrated Ravenclaw defence.
The irresistible combination of fitness and enthusiasm coupled with a very aggressive defensive strategy that seemed to change every few minutes had resulted in a one sided match. This was Oliver Wood's statement of intent to all of Hogwarts, if you wanted to win the trophy this year, you would need more than fast brooms and a few stolen plays.
"That is another foul called by Madam Hooch," a dejected Marcus Turner announced, "a pretty blatant blurting there by captain Davis, as he locked broom handles with Johnson to steer her away from the 'Claw rings." Turner glanced across at Lee and nodded.
"The score stands at two hundred and thirty points to forty. This has been a Gryffindor masterclass of precision flying and implementation of so many imaginative tactics that I have lost count. We are waiting for Bell to remount her broom, running repairs have been required after a close encounter of the bludger kind."
"Timeout!" Davis shouted.
"Five minutes." Madam Hooch announced.
All the players descended for a drink and a sit down.
Down at the Gryffindor player rest station, Harry was feeling ebullient. His quidditch robes were drenched in sweat, and he had drunk an energy potion mere seconds ago which boosted his energy levels to somewhere near normal, a surge of happiness caused a silly grin to grow on his face.
"Do you have an idea on the snitch Harry?" Oliver asked as he rested on a wooden stool.
"I've seen it a few times, Fred, George you've both done a bang up job buzzing Chang. Everytime she started a search pattern thinking I was distracted she got a bludger in her face. Good job." Harry patted George on the shoulder.
"Yes you've done well boys. Everyone has. I want three hundred before you think about catching Harry, go back to seeking, do a couple of flybys on Fleet and keep Chang guessing. I'd say if we should get another fifty points or so and you can end the game."
"You got it." Harry nodded.
"Girls anything?" Oliver asked.
"I think we should mark Burrow closer, he's getting pretty frustrated and it will only take a couple of close calls to get some silly mistakes and fouls out of him." Angelina said.
"Davis called that last timeout because their speed and accuracy have dropped. We should hit them hard and get a couple of quick goals to squash their morale." Alicia added.
All eyes turned to Katie and she gave them a brave smile. To Oliver it seemed a little forced. "I'll be honest guys, I'm feeling the pace. That last bludger winded me and I think it cracked a rib."
Harry slid a hand across her back and she lent onto him.
"You need a rest, you let me know Bluebell. Chang can dodge bludgers for as long as you need." Harry said.
She nodded from her position against his shoulder and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Her teammates watched Katie, concern reflected in each pair of eyes.
Oliver took a deep breath. "Katie, can you continue?"
Katie nodded.
"You're that pale you've gone white." Alicia told her friend.
"I feel sick." Katie admitted holding a hand in front of her mouth.
"Okay," Oliver decided, "you're benched for at least half an hour. Go see Pomfrey and I'll tell Hooch. Right people, change of plans. Catch the snitch as soon as you can, defensive formation, batter the chasers. Complete shutout for the rest of the game."
Grim faces greeted him as he rose and stepped towards Katie and pulled off her stool into a brief hug. Each player copied him then mounted their brooms.
As Harry let go, her knees buckled and if he hadn't caught her she would have sprawled across the dirt. Harry handed his broom to Fred and adjusted his grip to allow him to pick her up in a princess carry, the team moved as one towards the first aid station that Katie had just left.
Angelina hurried ahead and called out to the healer in consternation. "Madam Pomfrey! Katie collapsed!"
This drew the attention of the Healer, the referee, commentators, the Ravenclaws and the spectators above. A cry of dismay arose as they saw the closely grouped team move as one.
Madam Hooch descended to the ground as Madam Pomfrey intercepted them.
"What happened!" she demanded, wand poised.
"We don't know," Oliver answered. "She was with us one minute speaking, the next Harry caught her."
Madam Pomfrey conjured a stretcher and bid Harry place her on it. He was reluctant at first, indecision etched across his features but a nudge from both Alicia and Angelina spurred him to motion.
The group stood silent as Madam Pomfrey guided her away. The crowd above broke into applause and Katie raised a hand in recognition.
"This is happening too often." Harry muttered.
"She'll be alright Harry, Pomfrey knows her stuff. Do you want to tell her we won or not when you see her?" Oliver challenged his seeker.
Harry spent another second staring into the distance then gave his captain a fierce grin. "She'd kill me if we didn't win."
The Ravenclaws had gathered near enough to hear the end of the discussion.
"Oh great," Cho Chang complained, "I'm going from avoiding bludgers to keeping up with Harry again."
"Them's the breaks, Birdie." George said. "You want a head start?"
"Let's resume then." Madam Hooch called.
Thirteen players mounted their brooms and joined her in the air. The bludgers meandering paths straightened as they gained speed. All four beaters kept their heads on a swivel in preparation for the quaffle release.
"Best of luck Katie! Now that Gryffindor has been reduced to six players the game will change," Lee started his commentary, "the bludgers are circling and the quaffle is in play!"
"Wow! The quaffle has been claimed by Potter!" Turner joined in, "God that was quick! Another bludger has been fired towards Chang and she's diving! Pass to Johnson and Potter has pulled up into a search pattern. Johnson to Spinnet, acceleration and a barrel roll to avoid a Ravenclaw driven bludger. Pass to Joh- interception by Stetton, pass to Davis! Johnson is in his space and very close to fouling."
"Turner!" Professor Flitwick interrupted.
"Chang is diving! Potter on her tail!" Lee announced.
Two bludgers were hurled at the descending seekers one at each, the seekers juked and wove to avoid them and in the confusion both lost the snitch.
Side by side they rose up to their previous height and continued scanning them, suddenly Harry dove intent on the Ravenclaw chaser line up. Chang squarked and began after him but pulled out after a seconds chase. Harry continued on and blasted through the formation and curved up towards the Ravenclaw keeper.
"Potter's diving-" Turner began but was overridden when he took a breath.
"Stretton is inside the scoring area!" Lee shouted. "Spinnet cuts across his firing line but he holds his shot for a split second longer! He shoot! He- Saved by Wood! No! That was a very good save by Oliver Wood, he was completely blindsided and saw it late. A good show for the scouts there Ollie!"
Harry could see Oliver shake his head at the commentary. Intense gaze firmly on the quaffle's movements. The Sections of supporters who weren't Gryffindor rose to cheer but ended up in a groan, Harry smirked.
Down on the pitch he could see Katie sitting on a hospital bed, quidditch boots dangling over the side, face raised to the action above her.
Wait.
Harry had seen the snitch. It was hovering behind Cho Chang's broom and his heart dropped. She caught him staring at her. Frantically she searched around her.
For you Katie, he thought and accelerated.
Harry had covered half the distance by the time Chang had seen the snitch. As she reacted the snitch dropped. Propelled directly down by the magic in its wings Chang's fingers brushed the wings as she sloth rolled down to catch it.
The hand that clutched her broom in a death grip must have had sweat on the palms. Her grip broke and she began to fall.
Harry's subsequent actions were only possible as he had been about to pass her, his broom stopped on a sixpence right above her and he grabbed her hand and broom simultaneously lying flat himself. Her terrified gaze turned into confusion as he put the broom back into her hand and her fingers closed.
"Got it?" Harry asked.
Cho nodded and he let go. She hung below her broom like wet laundry, panted twice and let out a sob.
"My God! Cho just fell off her broom!" Turner shouted, suddenly on his feet Lee right beside him. "Potter caught her and put her broom back in her hand! Way to go Harr- shit! He's off!"
"Mr Tu-" Professor Flitwick began, irate.
"Potters after the snitch! The race is on again! The snitch is weaving through the players! Both man and snitch circle Madam Hooch! Ha! They're under the stands!" Lee was joined by everyone at the front of the bleachers and leant down to see Harry disappear below the wood and cloth construct.
"He's out the back!" Turner took over, "Climbing! Rising! The snitch is arching back over the pitch! Chang has rejoined the chase! Yes! Go Cho!"
The snitch snaked through over and under the other players. Neck and neck Harry and Cho flew, the snitch just out of reach. The constant direction changes restricted Harry's speed to barely better than Cho's broom. Inch by inch the gap to the snitches fluttering wings narrowed.
Suddenly the snitch broke for the bleachers again and both seekers had to brake to avoid crashing into wooden beams. Both players hovered, eyes frantically searched the dark recesses before them.
Then the snitch zoomed back between them and both lunged for it. Bodies tangled then fell off their brooms and tumbled the fifteen metres to the ground. Red and blue robes tangled and flapped as they descended, slowed briefly then thumped on to the grass.
The crowd, commentators, referee and every player held their breath. Movement caught the eye and a red gloved fist slowly rose gossamer wings beat against the knuckles.
"Ow."
"Yeah, ow."
Cheers, roars, boo's of the crowd above and the screams of approaching players made Lee Jordan's final announcement difficult to hear.
"Potter catches the snitch! The final score of Gryffindors second game is three hundred and eighty to forty!"
—Quidditch—
The room was dark and cramped but Alicia didn't care. She was enjoying herself and finally receiving the attention and intimacy she had been craving.
"Hmmm," she moaned as Fred kissed down her neck to her collarbone.
"Left a bit," she told him.
Fred adjusted.
Knock knock.
Alicia and Fred paused.
"You're bloody kidding me." Alicia groused. "Who is it?" She demanded.
"It's me," Angelina replied, "can I have my boyfriend back? Yours is in detention."
"What!" Alicia threw herself away from George and bounced against the shelves behind her, something rocked dangerously but didn't fall.
"Listen Allie, I can explain." George said.
Light suddenly burst forth as Angelina yanked the door open.
—Quidditch—
Oliver stood up after awkwardly crawling through the portrait hole. He's taken a nasty fall a day ago and even though Madam Pomfrey had patched him up he was still stiff and sore.
Something zipped past his head and smashed against the wall.
He ducked reflexively.
"What's the-" Oliver got out before another one smashed on the wall even closer.
"Careful, you almost got Ollie." Angelina called.
"Then he shouldn't be there. George Weasley! Keep still! Another one please, Angie." Alicia said uncharacteristically aggressive.
Angelina conjured a chintz tea set from her wingback chair, legs crossed, thoroughly unimpressed.
Alicia reloaded with a sugar bowl and hurled it at her ginger target.
"Where's your good for nothing brother?" Alicia demanded.
"Not bloody here," Oliver heard George mutter.
George stood up and cast a shield that the next porcelain missile shattered against.
"It was an honest mistake Allie, I'm so sorry."
"How on earth can you mistake your GIRLFRIEND with someone else!?" Alicia screamed at him incensed.
"You never noticed befor-" George cut himself off but the damage had been done. He closed his eyes.
Alicia's hands dropped to her side, a sugar bowl fell on to the thick carpet, Angelina stood and stared at him.
Oliver rolled his eyes in exasperation, he shook his head, picked up his bag and left the common room.
T.B.C
—