Author's Notes: You might want to put the Imperial March on in the background, or some other villainous theme. It helps with the atmosphere. I can't believe this chapter's number turned out to be 23… For no particular reason of course… And what's this you ask about the title of the chapter? What rules? There are no rules… Is that something you guys made up? Positively preposterous! Potter Rules? I would never! See, the title of this chapter is:
Chapter 23 - Smile
Somebody shook him. Bloody hell, what wanker woul-
"Ron wake up," said Fred.
Last night. Ginny's promise. Oh no…
"It's Percy," said George.
No, no, no…
"He's been petrified."
Ron let out a shaky breath.
They led him down the stairs, and right in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room was Percy, enthusiastically polishing his prefect badge with an outstretched hand, entirely frozen…
Was it wrong that he felt relieved? Perce wasn't dead, nobody was yet, there was still time, he could still fix everything… Everything was fine. Just fine. He'd fix everything, because… Everything was gonna be fine… Just fine.
"We're going to find the bloody Heir," George vowed.
"And turn him over to Dumbledore," said Fred darkly.
"Let the dementors give him a little kiss," said George.
He'd fix everything. He'd fix…
How?
He wasn't- it wasn't possible anymore. Was she trying to get bloody caught! What was she even thinking, wasn't Ginny supposed to be the smartest Weasley? Wasn't she supposed to be cunning? She'd made an arse of herself in front of the entire school, she'd bloody promised Percy she was gonna do something foul to him, and she'd taken off Fred's ear in the duel. And the next morning Percy was petrified? Anyone with half a bloody brain could figure out she was the Heir for Merlin's sake. The only thing that'd kept her safe so far was that nobody had really seemed to care to look into it except for him and Nev. Until now. And the Twins were nothing short of brilliant when they wanted to be.
He couldn'-
He'd fix everything.
"Err…" Said Ron, scratching his head. He'd said that a little loudly. Quieter, quieter, he needed to be quieter. He didn't want the rest of the house hearing what he had to say. His words were just for The Twins. "It's not like he's dead. Do you really want to make yourselves targets for Perce?"
Fred and George glared at him.
"Percy may be a pinhead," said Fred.
"But he's family," said George.
"You'll help us catch him, won'chya Ron?" Asked Fred.
They wanted him with them? Really? Truly? They wanted his help? After all this time, the Twins finally wanted him? It wasn't a prank right? No, they were serious. Not Charlie, not Lee Jordan, they finally wanted his help! He was finally good enough? He felt very warm insi-
"Err… No," Ron whispered, looking at his big toe, sticking out of his sock. Just great. Normally nobody listened to a word he had to say- not even when he bloody yelled- but now that he'd like some bloody privacy the rest of the Gryffindors strained to hear every word…
It wasn't bloody fair, he'd won third place in the dueling tournament, he should've had at least a night to enjoy it, but instead he'd spent it with Ginny, and she didn't even bloody care, she wouldn't even admit to what she was doing! So why should…
The boggart. Ginny's soulless body.
"Perce was always…" Ginny's soulless body, Ginny's soulless body. "Preening." Ron managed. "Acting like he was Dad, telling me what to do… And so…" Ron faltered despite himself. He couldn't continue. If it hadn't been Ginny, he'd have helped. He knew it somehow. Afterall, just a couple months earlier he'd tried his luck against a death eater. He'd heard Hermione's cries, and he'd… He could remember?
He remembered. Even if he rather wished he hadn't.
He'd come running to help Hermione. And what had he found? She hadn't needed him, she'd had Pettigrew disarmed, she'd lopped off his bloody hand. And for all Ronnie's good intentions, he'd as much as given Pettigrew his wand back. He'd finally found someone who seemed to think well of him for some strange bloody reason, and he'd almost gotten her killed. The truth was, it wasn't the world that was the problem.
It was him.
And so Ron was able to continue with conviction. "It doesn't matter anyways, you know? Even if I did try to help, it wouldn't do any good. I'd just make a mess of things. Just like always."
Fred and George glared at him. They left without a word. Gone. They were gone. He was relieved that they'd finally given up on him. It was what he deserved. For being worthless.
Ron wandered back up to bed. The Gryffindors let him go. Harry and Neville followed. Ron sank into his bed and stared up at the pristine white ceiling. Hogwarts was different from The Burrow. Worse. Without Mum to protect him, he'd been chewed up.
"I…" Harry trailed off. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," said Ron. "It's not like you're The Heir."
"I…" Harry said again. He swallowed and looked out the window. "I'm sorry… I've got to get to the match… If you don't want to watch… I get it."
Quidditch. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. That was today wasn't it? No matter how things seemed, life kept right on going. Percy may have been petrified but it was still Gyrffindor versus Slytherin. The biggest game of the year. Better than Christmas. They had a pretty strong team this year, maybe they'd actually be able to pull out a victory. No matter how bad things were, if Gryffindor beat Slytherin it couldn't be too terrible, right? Ron smiled weakly. "Harry. Go kick Slytherin's arse. For Percy."
Harry didn't seem to hear Ron's encouragement. He shuffled out of the room with his head down. Ron was all alone… Actually, not quite.
Neville put a hand on Ron's shoulder. The pudgy boy was more frightened than Ron had ever seen him.
"I hadn't expected it to be so scary… Being a target. I thought The Heir could only attack muggleborns. I get how Hermione feels now. I used to think she was a… a coward," said Neville. He shivered, pale and sickly, not even able to meet Ron's gaze. "But I can't blame her for how she acts, what she's done, now that I know how it feels to be the," Nev swallowed, far more terrified than Ron had ever seen him. "Hunted."
XOXOXOX
"Yes," Dad pumped his fist as the scarlet stands erupted. Katie Bell had tossed the quaffle past the Slytherin keeper. Of course, Ron wouldn't have fallen for Katie's feint, he'd have made the save. Not that he was upset by Gryffindor scoring, bad keeper play just bothered him was all.
"And there's another goal for Gryffindor," Lee Jordan shouted, his happy voice booming across the pitch. "210-30, Gryffindor!"
Ron had been in the skybox before, and he'd hated it then too. It was a little glass room with a perfect view of the pitch, apart from the rest of the rafters and fans. The family of team members were always invited, which wouldn't have been a problem if all the people Mum and Dad had to impress weren't invited too. Sit quietly Ronnie! Behave Ronnie! You'll get to be in the stands when you're a student Ronnie! Well he was a student now, and… and bloody hell, was he really whinging? Percy had almost been bloody killed, and he was complaining about bloody quidditch seats?
He knew that. Still though…
"Draco," said Lucius Malfoy sweetly. "Why did you not inform me of your teammates' merit? Better to be left off the team than to sully the Malfoy name through association with such rubbish."
"Father," said Draco confidently. "You'll find that some squad members are simply better than others. Flint has forgotten that. Soon, he'll have no choice but to pull the Seeker and when that happens-"
"I'm gonna put on a show," said Ginny, smirking, her feet already up on a table. "Don't worry your pretty little head Lew-Lew, everythings gonna turn out fine. We'll win- I guarantee it. This is gonna be a comeback everyone talks about for ages. And whenever an ickle Griffin gets uppity, all you'll need to say is 21-3… Err… 22-3. Any minute now."
Ron soured. "Too bad we won't all be able to see it."
"Are you talking about ole' Pinhead?" Ginny asked cheerfully, plopping a chocolate frog in her mouth. "He talked such a big game- 'Ginevra Weasley, I shan't allow you to see that blasted Harry Potter.' Ole Pinhead always had a big mouth, boasting about his OWLS, boasting about his badge, and now look at him- petrified. The only shame is that the Heir didn't take the prick out."
Mum and Dad stared at her.
But before they could say anything Hermione burst into the room wearing a dark pair of fashionable spectacles. "Sorry I'm late everyone, but the gifts were quite a bit more challenging to handle than I had anticipated. Here, have a rooster."
And then she thrust a caged rooster in his face. Ron took it awkwardly, as the chicken tried to peck his fingers off, cawing furiously, until Ron shut the blasted thing up with a swat. "Err… Thanks?"
"I'm sure you've already got one," Hermione said hurriedly. Yes, of course, why wouldn't he have a bloody rooster? "But two is better than one, right? That way, you can carry it with you wherever you go. Don't worry about me, I've already got one in the Slytherins Girls Dormitory of course. Ginny, we can share when we go out for classes. Draco, you really ought to have one as well."
"Is this some kind of muggle custom?" Asked Draco. "I think not. A typical power play, more likely. Do you take me for a fool? Well you can take your rooster and shove it up your ars-"
Lucius sighed and put a hand over his face, a slight blush colouring his aristocratic features. "Take the rooster Draco."
Draco glowered. "Yes father." He took the rooster.
"And err… You as well Neville," said Hermione, scowling. "Not that I care of course, but I know how much it would bother your friends if you were to be petrified. Though I can hardly imagine The Heir bothering with someone so pathetic."
Neville reached for the cage, but yelped at the rooster pecked at his hand, and stared at him lazily. Neville looked away nervously and Hermione tittered delightedly.
"You did that on purpose didn't you?" Neville asked.
"It's simply pecking order," Hermione explained. She used her wand to poke the rooster through the cage. "The rooster sees you as beneath it, and I quite agree. Now take the rooster Neville, it's for your own good."
Neville glowered at the rooster. "Well I suppose if you insist… I mean, they'll protect us from The Heir right? But still… At the end of the year I'll be glad to be rid of it. They're awful creatures."
"Awful hardly comes close to describing them my boy," said a brown-haired man standing behind Hermione cheerfully. His clothes were pretty exotic, muggle really- what had Dad called it? A err… Suit? The only thing normal about the man was his bright pink bowtie. "Terrible is a far better adjective. Did you know that that terrible lizard in the cage is the closest living relative of the famous tyrannosaurus rex, known for having the largest teeth in history?"
He was Hermione's Dad wasn't he?
"That's all birds Dan," said a woman sitting beside Lucius Malfoy, rolling her eyes. Ron had seen her yesterday. So she really was Hermione's Mum wasn't she?
"Quite correct Emma," said Hermione's Dad happily. "Does your kind know about dinosaurs? They were large creatures that roamed the earth hundreds of millions of years ago. The only ones left now are the meek creatures known as birds. Hard to believe, right my boy?"
"Err…" said Neville, as the rooster bit him again. "Meek?"
"Hardly," said Lucius Malfoy. "Dinosaur bones are hollow. So are birds. The only way terrestrial creatures could ever get so large is through air sacs, a feature found only in birds. There is evidence of a cataclysmic asteroid impact in Mexico. Geological, fossil, and genetic evidence all points to birds evolving from dinosaurs."
"Fascinating. So your kind knows about science," said Hermione's Dad. "I'd been under the impression that you lot were a bunch of backwards yokels."
"Hardly a mistaken impression, Dan," said Hermione's Mum. "You've read A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot just the same as I have… These people had the brilliant idea to outsource their banks to goblins where they hide their gold in enchanted vaults underground. And this game of quidditch they're so obsessed with is horribly unbalanced. Why does catching the snitch end the game? It's barbaric."
"Our kind has always valued our traditions," said Lucius simply. "The snitch ends the game, the Sorting Hat sorts, and family is sacred."
"I see," said Hermione's Mum, looking like she'd smelled something foul. "A society based upon tradition."
And for just a second Ron was right there with ole Lew-Lew. Who was this woman to criticize quidditch? She'd never been on a broom, she didn't understand how it brought him together with his brothers, how he looked forward to Gryffindor-Slytherin every year. And also what the bloody hell was wrong with Gringotts? But then he remembered that Lucius Malfoy was a wanker who had supported You-Know-Who.
"Well I've raised Hermione to see the value in the indigenous cultures from around the world." Hermione's Dad winked at Hermione, and made a little swish with his finger. "Just do it," he mouthed, whatever that was supposed to mean.
Hermione blushed, and walked stiffly to the window so she could watch the game uninterrupted.
Lucius nodded at Hermione's Dad. "Where are my manners? I am Lucius Malfoy. That likely means nothing to you, but in our world the Malfoys are famous for supporting the most talented witches and wizards of every age. Those on top come and go, but we always remain. And you are Miss Granger's, err… Father, I presume?"
"Stepfather," said Hermione's Dad energetically. "Doctor Dan Granger here. I met my wife a year after she had Hermione with some bloke named Peter Pettigrew. At first I wasn't keen on the idea of being tied down with a daughter, but once she was talking and reading and doing sums… Well, who wouldn't be won over by Hermione?"
Hermione's Mum glared at him.
Hermione watched the quidditch game intently.
Hermione's Dad smiled obliviously. "Isn't that right Emma? Our Hermione is a- what's the word? A half-blood. Like you Dear, isn't that right?"
Hermione finally burst, evidently not as focused on the game as she appeared. "No, I just made the whole thin-"
"Yes," said Hermione's Mum sweetly. "I met Dan while I was going through Oxford, and he was getting his doctorate at the exceptional University of London. He's been an excellent father for Hermione. Just look at all she's accomplished already."
"We are ever so proud of her," said Hermione's Dad fondly, rubbing his daughter's bushy brown hair. "Winning an Order of Merlin."
"Second Class," said Hermione's Mum.
"She's always been like that," Hermione's Dad boasted. "Skipping ahead in school. Always top of her class. Always the best at whatever she sets her mind on, even magic looks like. That Peter Pettigrew bloke must have been some kind of genius, right?"
The skybox had grown quiet. Angelina Johnson scored again, but nobody noticed. Everyone was staring at Hermione's Dad. Except for Hermione. She watched the game with as much focus as she did a lecture.
…What kind of… So… Strange… Lucius Malfoy… Hermione Granger… Everyone just seemed more… more like just normal people, the more he learned about them. He'd always wondered why she'd exaggerated her accomplishments when the truth of her achievements already put her on level with bloody Merlin. Now he finally realized something that he really ought to have known all along: Merlins didn't happen by accident.
Sure she'd lied to his face, used him, but she'd also always tried to include him, and she'd never tried to hog credit or anything like that. And at the end of the day, they were friends, even if she could be a stubborn wanker. It was time for their fight to be over. So he broke the awful silence and changed the bloody subject. "I reck-"
"I reckon it's a good thing," said Ginny happily. "That ole Pinhead's petrified. That way he won't have to see his little sister crush his beloved Gryffindor."
What was wrong with Ginny? Why had she said that? Why? Why couldn't he save her? How could he be friends with Hermione when he couldn't even save his own little sister? Hermione didn't need help from somebody like him. Even if she seemed miserable, he'd only make things worse.
Ron wanted to go talk to Hermione. Give her back her Order of Merlin and just say… What? She'd been the one to win the bloody thing. She was the one who knew what she was doing.
Gryffindor scored goal after goal, it was the blowout of a lifetime, and Ron couldn't even enjoy it. Instead he found himself listening in on two of the biggest berks on the planet.
"...I think the Americans have the right of it," said Hermione's Dad. "They're a few years from breaking apart anyways. There's no point in making a fuss and igniting another war."
"Americans. Such a funny term. They're your brethren across the ocean, while the true Americans are…" Lucius's smile was less than pleasant. "Inconsequential, I'll grant you. But this peace you speak of was always a lie. The Western Powers do not enjoy a rival, even one that put a stopper to their ultimate adversary. But when the time came for them to fight, they packed up their bags and ran back to their electric palaces. Evil exists when good men do nothing."
Hermione's Dad laughed. "That's so cheesy Lew! Did you read that off some gas station stall? Don't tell me you believe in that good and evil nonsense. That's just propaganda politicians use to convince young men to die for them. The truth is there is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to see-"
"What's this?" Lee Jordan asked. "Marcus Flint is calling a timeout. Is he? Yes! A substitution! Slytherin is pulling their Chaser, Graham Montague!"
"Weasley!" Flint barked angrily. "You win. We'll use The Potter Rules that you and Malfoy concocted. Now grab your broom and get your arse on the pitch!"
"Yes Cap'n," Ginny chirped, grabbing her new Nimbus 2000. "I'm gonna be the best decision you ever made."
Ginny gave the family a final wave, as she flew away. "Sorry, but this one is going to hurt. But at least Perce won't have to see Gryffindor blow a lead of 28-3."
"And it looks like we have a Weasley in for Montague," announced Lee Jordan's booming voice. That was a bit surprising. Montague was just a chaser and chasers didn't have that big of an impact on the game. But then again, with a deficit of 250 it did make more sense than replacing the seeker and making a play at the snitch. "A Weasley in Slytherin. Tell me that hearing that doesn't give you chills! It just sounds wrong!"
Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and play resumed. Alicia tossed the quaffle to Katie, who ducked a bludger, shoved off the Slytherin chaser Marcus Flint, and passed it to Angelina Johnson for a- Ginny slammed into Angelina from her blindside, nearly knocking her off her broom.
Ginny raised her hand sheepishly, admitting the foul. "My fault. My fault. I was going for the quaffle and got a little carried away."
Did Ginny have first game jitters? Understandable, but it wasn't like her.
Angelina shook her head, but flew in front of the Slytherin hoops. But she sailed her free shot wide, still rattled by the hit. The Chasers on both teams dove for the ball. Ginny was the first to the quaffle, but passed it to Marcus Flint as soon as she got it, and flew next to Harry as he searched for the snitch. Were they using Ginny as an extra Seeker then? Maybe they were just trying to end the game?
Ginny was doing well, she was keeping up with Harry which was more than Ron could say about Slytherin's official Seeker. That said, something about Harry's flying was off. Normally he flew even faster. Ginny shouldn't have been able to keep up.
Ignoring whatever was wrong with Harry, what was Ginny even trying for? Why was she right on his arse? Was she going for a wronski feint? It made sense theoretically, taking out Harry was probably the only feasible play, but there was no way Ginny could actually pull it off. So what was she even doing?
By all appearances, Ginny was just flying behind him, at least that's what it looked like until Harry tried to turn and nearly broke his back.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Ginny released a fistful of Harry's cloak.
Ginny was saying something to Madam Hooch.
"She's claiming she saw the snitch," said Lee Jordan. "She couldn't have though, right? That's ridiculous, I'm sorry but even if she's a Weasley that's balderdash. That should be a foul! A yellow card at the very least."
Ginny flew by. "Fair enough." She was smiling.
Madam Hooch awarded Gryffindor a free shot at the hoop, but Alicia Spinnet missed the shot. Ron had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Even though the score hadn't changed, the game's momentum had swung. The rest of the Slytherins followed Ginny's lead, and had seemingly forgotten how to fly, clumsily, accidentally, colliding with Gryffindors, nearly knocking them off their brooms. Gryffindor was awarded free shot after free shot. They made some of them, but missed most. Slytherin wasn't scoring much either, but-
"And Bole tries to decapitate Potter- that's the third time! This isn't quidditch. Hooch has got to get these wankers under control!" Said Lee Jordan furiously. "And if she won't, then yes- Fred Weasley that's how you handle a goon!"
George had smashed Bole with his club. One of the Slytherin beaters, Peregrine Derrick, smashed Harry in retaliation, and Fred tagged the wanker with a bludger. Ginny went streaking at Harry, and George lifted his club and… Let her fly right by. Ginny smashed into the still dazed Harry, jarring him off course, and sending him flying through the Hufflepuff Rafters.
Ginny was mouthing something to Fred, and pointing at her teammate Derrick, and then at Harry. Even if Ron couldn't hear, her meaning was clear: You go after us; we go after you.
"Get up Harry!" Lee Jordan screamed. "Slytherins trying to take you out! Don't let those goons win! I apologize to all the children watching, make no mistake, this isn't real quidditch. This is an overmatched squad throwing a tantrum."
Ginny hovered above the stands of yellow and black. They booed. She waved and waited.
A small figure in scarlet and gold rose from the yellow and black. Harry launched himself back onto the pitch, his glasses cracked, his uniform ripped into tatters, blood oozing from an open gash in his arm.
"Potter! Potter! Potter!" Chanted Gryffindor.
Ginny shouted something at Harry.
Harry stared. Then flew right at her. Something glinted in the air! The snitch! It had flown right next to Ginny's ear.
"Potter's caught the- Foul! Foul! Throw her out!"
Ginny had apparently seen the snitch but not Harry- she'd collided with him head on, and dislodged him from his broom, sending him back into the Hufflepuff Rafters. Luckily the boys and girls in yellow caught him, but he'd dropped the snitch. Weird. Ron had watched him in practice. Harry had good hands, he normally caught it even through contact. Maybe he had some first game nerves?
"Get her out of here Hooch! Once is an accident, twice a coincidence, but thrice we've got a pattern! She's dirty! Toss her," Lee Jordan screamed. "Yeah, go get her Angelina!"
A skirmish had erupted as Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet abandoned the quaffle and went after Ginny. They couldn't catch her, but they at least managed to get her off Harry's arse. Of course, a skirmish erupted between them and the Slytherin beaters Lucian Bole and Peregrine Derrick and the girls in scarlet lost to the thugs in green- it wasn't their fault of course, the beaters were the ones who were supposed to provide the Seeker protection. But Fred and George refused to go after Ginny.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle. "Enough! Three shots for Gryffindor! One for Slytherin!" From a technical standpoint, it probably should have been even shots or one more to Slytherin as Gryffindor had technically started the skirmish, but something about the ruling just felt right.
Gryffindor cheered the announcement, and so did Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, all united against Slytherin. The Slytherins rafter were surprising silent. Uncomfortable. Even the slimy Slytherins seemed hesitant to embrace what they were seeing on the pitch.
Ginny flew next to Hooch and said a few words, which must not have been very nice because Hooch awarded another shot to Gryffindor.
And for all that, the score hadn't changed much. 310 Gryffindor to 70 for Slytherin. But if Harry went down then the score didn't even matter (Gryffindor didn't have a viable backup Seeker), because only Slytherin would be able to end the game.
As Gryffindor was shooting its foul shots, Oliver Wood flew next to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder. And Wood wasn't really tall or anything, but next to Harry he seemed absolutely massive, because Harry was the youngest and smallest of the youngest and smallest. It just wasn't right that Slytherin would target him. The school seemed to agree with Ron.
"Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!" Chanted the Gryffindor student section.
Angelina Johnson missed her free shot.
"Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!" Chanted the Hufflepuff student section.
Katie Bell's shot clanked off the side of the hoop.
"Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!" Chanted the Ravenclaw student section.
Alicia Spinnet's shot went straight through the center of the hoop.
"..." Chanted the Slytherin student section, having the decency to remain silent.
Slytherin's Adrian Pucey's free shot sailed wide, but nobody noticed.
Harry was diving for the snitch, flying straight down. When Ron tried a vertical dive, he always ended up pulling back, almost wiping out. Dives were dangerous. According to Charlie, you had to point your body weight straight down, accelerate into the ground, or else you'd end up weightless and out of control.
But even if he was moving at a third the speed he did in practice, Harry was managing it. So was Ginny, she was right behind him, but Ron could see the snitch, only a few meters from Harry's grasp. Closer, closer, almost- and then the snitch swerved parallel to the ground. Harry pulled hard, leveling himself… Right off his broom?
What was wrong with him?
Ginny kept him afloat, with a fistful of his uniform in her grasp. Had she yanked him off his broom or had she saved him? It had all happened so fast, Ron didn't know for sure…
But Ginny didn't let Harry drop. She struggled to keep afloat, and drifted closer and closer to the ground, until she finally released him. Low enough for Harry to survive, high enough for him to still have a few broken bones.
Had she done it on purpose?
"If you've brought your children I apologize. Ginny Weasley, you should be ashamed! That was the most vile, disgraceful, disgusting act I've ever seen on the pitch," Lee Jordan roared. "Red Card! Suspensions! We've got to see this bitch drawn and quartered and- Argh! Lemme go McGonagall! That was bloody bollo-"
Hogwarts exploded. The boos were so loud that the sky box shook like there was an earthquake. Ron had never seen anything like it. Not the gameplay, nor the fan reaction.
Slytherin had done it. They'd knocked out Gryffindor's Seeker. For all the good it would do them. Given the circumstances, Slytherin would have to pull their Seeker as well. That was the rule in quidditch. If one Seeker got knocked out by anything besides a bludger, the other team had to pull their own Seeker as well. That way, teams didn't just target the other teams Seeker.
So for all their dirty play, Slytherin would be left without a Seeker as well.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Since Gryffindor didn't have a replacement for Harry, Slytherin had to pull their… Seeker, Terrance Higgs… And… And slide in…
Ginny Weasley as a replacement. It was legal… Technically.
The boos intensified as Slytherin's sinister plot was revealed. Ginny flew past the skybox with a bright smile as she circled the stadium, gliding around like she owned the place.
"That's your daughter, Arthur?" Asked Lucius Malfoy, with a raised eyebrow. "It seems Draco was right. She is… Inspired."
Dad didn't reply. He just stared past the pitch blankly.
"I don't understand," said Hermione's mum. "Why is this lot so angry? Isn't the point of the game to win? Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that the entire point of the Beaters? To hurt people? What exactly has the little Scottish girl done wrong?"
"It's…" said Dad. "It's just not… That isn't how… It's not how we raised our girl! It's unsportsmanlike! It just isn't how things are done! It isn't…"
"Tradition," Ron murmured.
"But surely the Gryffindors have a backup Seeker?" Asked Hermione's dad. "Why don't they just slide another position over as Slytherin did?"
They did, but Angelina Johnson wasn't much of a Seeker and everyone knew it. Slytherin ignored her, and focused on closing the point gap. It shrank quickly. Part of it was that Slytherin now held a numbers advantage because they were using their Seeker as an extra Chaser, but the much bigger reason was Ginny herself. She flew circles past the Gryffindors, she fit passes around them to Slytherins she couldn't possibly have seen. She feinted passes, shot when Wood bit on them, and passed when he stayed home. She'd been a good Seeker, she'd kept pace with Harry Potter, but as a Chaser she was nothing short of magical. She did things with the quaffle he'd never seen, better with her left hand than anyone he'd ever seen. But Hogwarts didn't cheer for her. Her skill just made her actions from before even more disgusting, because it made them unnecessary. She could have beaten Gryffindor straight up, so why had she resorted to such a dastardly gameplan?
A chant in the Slytherin section grew louder with every Slytherin score. "Ginny! Ginny! Ginny!"
"That's another score for Weasley," said Lee Jordan sullenly. "320-120 Gryffindor."
"Ginny! Ginny! Ginny!" Chanted Draco.
"A no-look behind-the-back assist from Weasley to Flint," said Lee Jordan. "320-150 Gryffindor."
"Ginny! Ginny! Ginny!" Bellowed, Lucius bloody Malfoy, clapping his hands like an overexcited child.
"Weasley scores," Lee Jordan murmured, barely audible. "320-180 Gryffindor."
"GINNY! GINNY! GINNY!" The Slytherins roared, their chant more clear than any Ron could ever recall. It wasn't even that the Slytherins were that loud, it was that the rest of the houses were completely silent.
"And that's it. She caught it," Lee Jordan managed. "330-320… Slytherin. Not that it matters. We all know that in the end Hufflepuff will win The Cup like they always do, so this really doesn't mean anything."
Who cared? They'd lost. They'd been the better team, and they'd blown it.
"Finally, it's over," said Hermione cheerfully, dragging her parents off to the library. "Ronald, would you care to join us?"
Ron grunted. It hurt. After everything he'd been through today, of course Gryffindor had suffered the most humiliating defeat in history. To bloody Slytherin. He didn't know when he'd be over it. 28-3. 28-3. 28-3.
Ginny flew up to the Gryffindor student section, showed off the snitch, and waved them goodbye. Then she touched down on the pitch, and was mauled by the Slytherins who had stormed the field, who held her above them like she was Merlin's gift to magical kind. She was taking pictures with an old, enormously fat, balding man, shaking hands with some frilly ministry woman in pink, and drinking a fire whiskey courtesy of Lucius Malfoy himself.
And the night after petrifying her older brother, Ginny Weasley had the brightest smile Ron had ever seen on her. Because she knew she was right where she belonged.
Slytherin had found itself a champion.
XOXOXOX
The Night Before…
"Persss-ey Weazzz-ley?" Asked the snake. "That name… I remember… Weazzz-ley… Are you ssure massster? That he must be dissspozzzed of?"
"Blood traitor," They heard themselves hiss. It wasn't even a lie really, but still… This was the first time… Would the snake follow orders, or… No other option… Trapped… Useless… Couldn't do anything without help… Stupid! Stupid!
Needed someone… Needed a friend… Couldn't let that pompous prick Percy take everything away! Everyone thought he was horrid, even Hermione, so was it really so wrong to take care of Percy?
…Yes…
It was…
This was wrong.
Mum and Dad would've… Mum and Dad would have never done anything like this… Mum and Dad would have been strong enough to turn themselves in, they were astonished by their level of certainty. Perhaps they had been tricked at first, but one thing was becoming more and more clear. They had never been Lord Voldemort's puppet. They had only pretended to not notice, but ignorance had always been an excuse. The truth was…
I am doing this for myself.
"Hizzz blood issss pure," said the snake. "I will not kill…"
As expected, the snake had refused to murder a pureblood. Just this once, things were going well. It was…
"Then petrify," they heard themself hiss.
And as the basilisk slithered off to do their bidding, they felt a smirk stretch across their features.
Perhaps…
Perhaps it wasn't so bad…
Being the Heir of Slytherin. And a moment later The Heir was in a bed. How had they gotten there? A void in their memory? Ah well, The Heir was used to it by now.
The screams of their housemates interrupted their dreams. Harry Potter awoke with a happy smile.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! This was one of those chapters that I really struggled with. I'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but… I dunno, I feel like it's better to just release it at some point and move to more interesting parts of the story. Still, it's possible that with more time I could've jammed in even more sports cliches. And now onto the reviews!
Cheese12345 - Thanks for all the reviews! Hermione left flying lessons early to check on Ron in the hospital wing. Hermione's boggart is meant to be a little confusing, and then obvious when it's explained in retrospect. I guess I'll give a few clues. One is to think about what the boggart was doing physically, and what that might represent? The other is that Hermione is running from her fear for the majority of this story. The third is that short of death, I would wager that it is the most common fear in modern society, and one of the most relatable aspects of Hermione's character. Lupin does not appear until the end of the last chapter of this fic. Lockhart, Arthur, and Sirius are teaching a newly formed dueling class. Dumbledore is referring to Pettigrew as one of the two greatest wizards of his generation. Pettigrew is probably the second most dangerous character in cannon after Voldemort, as his rat form, magical talent, prudence, and lack of pride allow him to punch well above his magical weight class.
ViviTheFolle - Hermione killed the beetle, which was Rita Skeeter. Crouch definitely didn't modify her memory. Hermione actually did it.
Hermione was able to cast avada kedavra for two reasons. One is that it was on a beetle, and thus required less magic. The other is that avada kedavra is an incredibly easy curse to learn in this fic, and not a display of any great talent. There's no feeling of hatred that has to be conjured, no desire for the other side to die, just say the words, point the wand in the right direction, and there you go. That's why it's an Unforgivable in this fic. Because it's easy. Klyeaezrf is in code of course, and if anyone can decipher it feel free to brag about it in the reviews. It will be revealed how to decipher it near the end of the fic, and what it means will just… fit with the narrative, in the same way that Erised fit in with the narrative in cannon.
Merendinoemiliano - Thanks for the review! If it helps any, Jr escapes from Azkaban in chapter 16, which was the purpose of the scene where Ron overhears Sirius and Arthur talking, as Sr is forced to resign. In the beginning of chapter 17 Hermione is still dealing with Lockhart, but after she leaves him at the French restaurant he is attacked by Jr who couldn't care less about the Heir and only seems to want to teach her mind magic for… Hmm… I don't think I'll say.