Welp, it took a lot longer than expected before I had some free time, I'm very sorry for how long it took to update again, I've been surprisingly busy.
Anway, enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 13
The Quidditch Final
"He—he sent us this," Rachel said, and she held out the letter to Harry, who took it and read it through.
"They can't do this," said Harry. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."
"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," said Hermione, wiping her eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope… Nothing will have changed."
"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work this time, Hermione, Rachel. I'll help."
"Oh, Ron!"
Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck and broke down completely. Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head, looking desperately at Rachel, who was wiping her eyes. Finally, Hermione drew away.
"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers…," she sobbed.
"Oh—well—he was old," said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him. "And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."
The safety measures imposed on the students since Black's second break-in made it impossible for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Rachel to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Their only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.
He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.
"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes Rachel wrote and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em…"
"There's still the appeal!" said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"
They were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively. Rachel scowled at the three of them.
"S'no good, Ron," said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that…"
Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.
"Look at him blubber!"
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.
"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"
Rachel turned and gripped her wand, Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first—
SMACK!
She had slapped Malfoy across the face, and it was a good slap. Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Rachel, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.
"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul—you evil—"
"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.
"Get off, Ron!"
Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.
"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.
"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.
"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"
"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. "We'd better go."
They hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick's classroom.
"You're late, boys—Miss Haney!" said Professor Flitwick reprovingly as Harry opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs—"
Harry, Ron, and Rachel hurried to a desk at the back and opened their bags. Ron looked behind him as Rachel made sure she had a partner (Parvati).
"Where's Hermione gone?"
Harry and Rachel looked around too. Hermione hadn't entered the classroom, which was odd. Rachel thought she'd seen her just before opening the door.
"That's weird," said Rachel, staring at Ron. "Maybe—maybe she went to the bathroom or something? I'll check in a few…"
But Hermione didn't turn up all lesson, and when Rachel checked, the nearest bathroom was empty.
"She could've done with a Cheering Charm on her too," said Ron as the class left for lunch, all grinning broadly—the Cheering Charms had left them with a feeling of great contentment that Rachel loved.
Hermione wasn't at lunch either. By the time they had finished their apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and Harry, Ron, and Rachel had started to get slightly worried.
"You don't think Malfoy did something to her?" Ron said anxiously as they hurried upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower.
They passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password ("Flibbertigibbet"), and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.
Hermione was sitting at a table, fast asleep, her head resting on an open Arithmancy book. They went to sit down on either side of her. Harry prodded her awake.
"Wh—what?" said Hermione, waking with a start and staring wildly around. "Is it time to go? W—which lesson have we got now?
"Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes," said Rachel. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"
"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"
"But how could you forget?" said Harry. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"
"I don't believe it!" Hermione wailed. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!"
"You know what, Hermione?" said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."
"No, I'm not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. "I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry… I'll see you in Divination!"
Hermione joined them at the foot of the ladder to Professor Trelawney's classroom twenty minutes later, looking extremely harassed.
"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!"
Together they climbed the ladder into the dim, stifling tower room, while Rachel assured Hermione that they'd work on it. Glowing on every little table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Rachel sat down together at the same rickety table.
"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby.
"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," Harry muttered back. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands."
Rachel laughed.
"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball.
"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."
Hermione snorted.
"Well, honestly…'the fates have informed her'…who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. Harry and Ron choked back laughs while Rachel grinned at her.
It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard them, as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.
"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes"—Ron began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise—"so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."
And so they began. Rachel got quite bored with it right away, wondering what she did to deserve a torturous hour like this. Hermione kept tutting and Ron was giggling every other minute, which only made Rachel wish the hour was over even faster.
"Seen anything yet?" Harry asked them after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal gazing.
"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," said Ron, pointing. "Someone's spilled their candle."
"I wish I could look at a candle right now," muttered Rachel. "Anything other than this stupid ball."
"This is such a waste of time," Hermione hissed. "I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms—"
Professor Trelawney rustled past.
"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she murmured over the clinking of her bangles.
"I don't need help," Ron whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."
Harry, Hermione, and Rachel burst out laughing.
"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalized. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached their table and peered into their crystal ball.
"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball. It was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving… but what is it?"
"My dear…," Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Harry. "It is here, plainer than ever before… my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer… the Gr—"
"Oh, let me guess, the Grim, perhaps?" said Rachel.
Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Rachel's face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Rachel too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Rachel with unmistakable anger. Rachel kept a straight face.
"She's right," Hermione said. "This is ridiculous. I doubt Harry's going to die tonight, seeing as he's been alive all year even though you keep Seeing this stupid Grim!"
Professor Trelawney turned to look at Hermione now, even angrier.
"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my dears, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane, let alone two."
There was a moment's silence. Then—
"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"
"And I don't blame her," snarled Rachel, putting away her book, too. "This whole class is utter bullcrap!"
And to the whole class's amazement, Hermione and Rachel strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder.
At the bottom, Hermione and Rachel looked at each other, made sure the trapdoor was closed, and then gave silent cheers.
"I can't believe that we just did that," said Rachel breathlessly.
"More time to study and do homework," grinned Hermione.
"And help Hagrid!" said Rachel. "We'll have even more time with the Easter holidays, those are close too…"
But the Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing, and Rachel didn't have much time to help Hagrid and Buckbeak. The third years had never had so much homework. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.
"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"
But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears despite what Rachel said.
Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal, thankfully. When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.
Meanwhile, Harry had daily Quidditch practice to busy himself with. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays, and Rachel was very excited yet nervous.
The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been Seeker.
Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.
Harry had a bad time of it, and Rachel tried her best to save him from any Slytherins that stuck out their legs to try and trip him up. Crabbe and Goyle also popped up many times, she noticed, but they couldn't do anything for Oliver Wood wanted Harry to be accompanied wherever he went so no Slytherins could put him out of action.
The night before the match, the whole Gryffindor common room was boiling with anticipation, and hardly anybody could focus. Even Hermione had put down her books.
"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.
The common room was very noisy. Fred and George Weasley were louder and more exuberant than ever, Oliver Wood was prodding little figures across a model of a Quidditch field, and the three Chasers were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Rachel sat with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, talking down Harry's worries.
"You're going to be fine," Hermione said, looking positively terrified.
"You've got a Firebolt!" said Ron.
"Malfoy can never beat a Firebolt, Harry," said Rachel.
"Yeah…," said Harry.
Oliver Wood stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!" and Harry left, as did the Chasers, the Weasley twins, and Wood himself. Rachel was left with Ron and Hermione, bouncing her leg in nervous excitement.
"He'll be fine, right?" said Hermione anxiously, her face pale.
"Of course," scoffed Rachel. "I don't think Madam Hooch would let any cheating happen…"
But as she left her question hanging, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly would happen the next day.
The following morning, Rachel was down in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione before the Gryffindor team entered. They applauded loudly with the other Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, drowning out the hissing coming from the Slytherin table. Rachel urged Harry to eat lots, and then Oliver Wood hurried off the team to the field, under loud applause again.
Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.
Ron, Hermione, and Rachel headed down to the field with everybody else, sporting the colour red everywhere—on their faces, in their hair, and on their clothes. They took good spots in the stands, and joined the tidal wave of noise as the Gryffindor team walked onto the field.
"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years—"
Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of "boos" from the Slytherin end, which was completely green.
"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill—"
More boos from the Slytherin crowd, but Rachel agreed with Lee. Malfoy was by far the smallest on the team.
"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.
Flint and Wood approached each other and shook hands.
"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"
The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd, and Rachel screamed and cheered, following Harry with her eyes as Malfoy was on his tail.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no—Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field—WHAM!—nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by—Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina—nice swerve around Montague—duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger!—SHE SCORES! TEN—ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the crimson crowd screamed with delight—and then Marcus Flint smashed into her and nearly threw her off her broom. Rachel swore at Flint with Ron, and was very delighted when Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head, smashing his nose into the handle of his broom.
Both Gryffindor and Slytherin got a penalty shot. The crowd became quiet, and Rachel watched with bated breath—
"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY—ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Wood was up next, and Rachel crossed her fingers that he would miss.
"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd. "Superb! Very difficult to pass—very difficult indeed—YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"
"Yes!" screamed Ron, pumping his fist into the air.
"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession—no!—Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field—THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"
One of the Slytherin Chasers swerved in front of Katie and grabbed her head. As a result, Katie dropped the Quaffle.
Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.
"THIRTY—ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING—"
"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way—!"
"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"
Suddenly, Harry sped off toward the Slytherin end of the field, and Malfoy followed him. Rachel grasped for Hermione's hand and clutched it tightly.
A Bludger streaked past Harry's right ear, and then the other Bludger grazed his elbow, and both Slytherin Seekers were zooming toward Harry, their clubs raised.
Rachel cheered in delight when Harry sped up at the last second, causing the two Slytherin Beaters to collide.
"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle—Flint alongside her—poke him in the eye, Angelina!—it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke—oh no—Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save—!"
Flint scored. The Slytherin end erupted into cheers and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.
"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession—"
The game turned dirty very quick. Slytherin Beater Bole hit Alicia with his club, George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation, and both teams were awarded penalties. When the penalties had finished, the score was forty-ten to Gryffindor
Katie scored again. Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom.
Madam Hooch was beside herself.
"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" Rachel could hear her shriek, even from far below. "Gryffindor penalty!"
And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal—seventy-ten.
The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse—Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Rachel didn't dare take her eyes off Harry, who was streaking around the field with Malfoy following him closely.
Harry put on a huge burst of speed and stretched out his hand, but Malfoy grabbed onto the end of the Firebolt. Raging, Rachel made a very rude gesture at Malfoy and cursed him.
"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B—"
Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.
Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. Rachel's throat was raw from screaming.
"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal—Montague scores—" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor…
"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"
The Slytherin team all went to block Angelina, but Harry shot like a bullet at the Slytherins and they scattered with a scream, and Angelina's way was clear.
"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!"
"MALFOY SAW IT! MALFOY SAW THE SNITCH!" screamed Ron in Rachel's and Hermione's ears. Rachel looked around frantically and felt her heart drop when she saw Malfoy diving.
"HARRY!" Rachel screamed. "HARRY, GET IT!"
Harry was diving down as well, and he took both hands off his broom, knocked Malfoy's arm away, and—
"YES!" Rachel and Ron screamed. The stadium exploded when Harry pulled out of his dive with his hand in the air, clutched tightly around the small, golden Snitch.
Ron, Hermione, and Rachel rushed off the stands as the Gryffindor team lowered to the ground. The crowd that was spilling onto the field hoisted the Gryffindor team onto their shoulders. Percy Weasley was jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Hagrid was covered in crimson rosettes. Professor McGonagall was wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag.
The trio fought their way over to their friend, at loss for words, beaming at Harry as he was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood with the giant Quidditch Cup.
This had to be one of the best days in Rachel's life.