Chapter 20: The Mark in the Snow

That Friday, after enduring a long dissection of Charlie Weasley's Quiddich Cup win with Ceelee, Matt met Donnie in the Hufflepuff Common room and they walked to the Charms Room where the Knight's Club meeting was being held. "Hey! You finally made it!" Liam said, slapping Matt on the back. "You picked a good night. Here, come sit in the front." Matt was not thrilled to be shepherded into a seat next to Wycliffe. Though he did take some satisfaction in the indignant looks from Josiah Smith and his friends, but they were impotent to do anything more than grumble amongst themselves given Liam's welcome. Phichit waved from across the room. A spitball hit the back of his head, he turned to see Tip grinning from the back.

"Now then," Liam stood behind Prof. Flitwick's podium, the stool Flitwick used to stand on pushed aside. "I call this second club meeting of the year 2001 to order. Now, I wanted to give an update on one of our former members whom I had, well I wish I could say the pleasure of seeing while I was visiting St. Mungo's - you all know why I was there." A number of heads nodded somberly, Matt could hear a low murmuring of the words: the Carrows. "Yes, the Carrows. While I was there I chanced upon McCraig. You remember him. He was one of the founding members of our club. He had his wand arm and his leg blown from his body by a Carrow. And you know curse wounds cannot be healed. He's able to do simple spells with his remaining hand. He was almost able to show me a levitating charm. You know, the one they teach us as first years. He hasn't adjusted well to his prosthetic leg so he's stuck in a muggle wheel chair for now. He said Rita Skeeter had done an article about what happened with Dorsett. She was writing to plead his case, that he should not be severely punished by the Wizangamot, given what the Carrows had done to his parents, given what their daughters had done. He clearly felt he was protecting the other students by his actions. McCraig said he wished Dorsett had gotten her, that if anyone had seen what he'd seen, they'd agree. How many of you have been hexed by Carrow?" A full three quarters of the room had their hands up. Notably, these were almost exclusively Gryffindors excepting Josiah Smith who thrust his hand to the sky triumphantly. "Or one of her followers?" Everyone else's hands rose. Even Matt inched his hand up. Though it was only a bat bogey hex, and not even a very good one.

"I say Carrow and her squad of junior death eaters are a menace. How long until they graduate into the real thing? They follow her because they know what she's capable of. That as bad as they may be, she's the worst of the lot. She's already nearly killed another student, and that was in her first year!" He continued to rail against Ceelee with every possible invective he could expel, her and the other Slytherins of Death Eater descent - in no unclear way making claims that she and her followers were intent to carry on Voldemort's legacy if they were not stopped. "If we are to rid Hogwarts of the venom of the death eaters we need to get rid of her. I say cut off the head of the snake and the body will die!"

"Yeah!" A few of the boys who had become wrapped up in his speech shouted.

Matt stood up, he was done with this. Donnie grabbed his arm but he just shook his head and jerked it toward the door. He turned to leave. "Hey squib," Wycliffe said. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Yeah, Matt. What's wrong?" He could hear the questioning in Liam's voice.

"I've got a match tomorrow. I'd like to get some rest," Matt said stonily.

"It's not going to be much longer. Come on, stay. We have refreshments."

Matt rounded on him. He was done holding back. "And listen to one more minute of this? No thank you. So Charlie Weasley was nice to her. What's it matter to you? Just because you decided to hate her from day one doesn't mean everyone has to. Maybe the only reason she acts like that is because you guys are always on after her. Did you ever think about that? How many times has she actually attacked anyone who didn't attack her first?"

"I never attacked her," Josiah Smith said, defensively.

"No. You just tried to stun me, a squib. And even then you still waited until my back was turned." Matt was livid. "No really, I'm asking. Who here has ever been hexed by Ceelee Carrow when she wasn't defending herself or someone else?" A few hands tried to rise but slowly retreated back down. "Maybe Ceelee Carrow isn't the problem." He turned in disgust and strode out of the room.

As he was walking quickly down the corridor he heard footsteps running to catch up with him. A hand grasped his arm. "That was amazing!" Donnie said. "I mean, Wycliffe and Card will never let you get away with it, but still. McLaggen was just standing there with his mouth hanging open. You sure told him."

He turned on Donnie. "Is that what they normally talk about at meetings?"

"Well... normally it isn't that bad..." Donnie said, his cheeks reddening. "Sometimes we practice counter-curses and you know... other spells... dueling..."

"Shoshanna was right about it. I'm not going back. And I don't think you should either."

"But... I mean, I can keep an eye on what they say. Maybe keep it from getting that bad again. That's what prefects are supposed to do, right?"

"Badges aren't excuses," Matt said turning from him.

"Matt! Matt!" Matt hear Donnie call as he walked further from him. Donnie let out an exasperated sigh and ran to catch up with him again. "Fine. I won't go anymore. Now then, is it really true that McLaggen's mad that Charlie Weasley was nice to her?"

Matt smirked slightly. "More than that, I think he's jealous."

"Jealous! Why would he be jealous?"

"He's used to being the center of her attention whenever he's around. And now all she can do is talk about Charlie Weasley. She doesn't even acknowledge him when he insults her."

"Wait." Donnie stopped short. "Do you think he actually likes her?"

"I don't know. But I don't think he hates her as much as he likes to think he does."

The next morning dawned still cool, but warmer than what they had been used to. A perfect day for a quidditch match. They met at the pitch after breakfast. Matt gave a nod to Ceelee as they faced off. She gave him a slight salute back before Madam Hooch blew the whistle to start the game. Matt scrambled up the center post, the frost melting under his hands, making the pole slippery.

"And they're off!" Andie Greathouse announced. "They didn't try the same trick twice with O'Connor, but that little bit of hesitation to see if Jenkins would go for it cost them. Jenkins has the quaffle. And there's a back handed pass to Flint. Flint to Nott, back to Flint and there's Aspera with the steal. Aspera to MacHeath and there's the Sulkowski brothers with a punishing dual bludger hit. And now Nott has the quaffle." Matt tensed as Nott hit the ball to the lowest goal. "And Boot's going for it..." There was a collective gasp from the crowd as a bludger hit Matt in the stomach in mid air. He felt himself pushed backward, the air leaving his lungs. The ring! He had to catch it. But he was too far off. His tips hit hard against the top of the ring. He scrabbled at the metal desperately, not able to get a grip as he continued to fly forward. His upper chest slammed into the crossbar where the ring attached to the pole and he grabbed it with his entire body, wrapping painfully around it.

"Foul!" Declan screamed from somewhere far off. He could not tell where. He was capable of sight, but he couldn't comprehend what he perceived. He shook his head.

A whistle blew, somewhere there was shouting he could not understand. "O'Connor! Take it out on the quaffle!" Madam Hooch's voice rang out.

"Matt, are you ok?" he looked to his side and saw Tip hovering beside him, his senses returning to him.

"Yeah. Just a little sore." He managed to push himself up and stood, gripping the side of the ring. The cold of the metal felt good against his bruised chest. He didn't want to know who it would look later. "Get back to looking for the snitch."

"Ok. Looks like Sulkowski has a ten minute penalty. Anyway, snitches or stitches."

"Yeah, that." Matt said as Tip flew off. He was badly winded. He jumped over to the middle pole, catching it sloppily, and began the climb back up. As long as he kept moving he'd be fine. But if he stopped his body would stiffen and then he wouldn't be able to do anything. Between the numbing cold and the adrenaline, he was able to find his place again, blocking four more goals and losing only one to a trick play by Jenkins. It seemed O'Connor had taken Madam Hooch's suggestion to heart. He and Polly easily racked up goal after goal, putting away three for every one Slytherin made, with a speedy flight across the field by Linnea taking them to one hundred and ten points.

"And there's another goal. Fallon just can't keep up!" Andie announced, brushing back her white hair. "Hufflepuff one hundred ten, Slytherin forty. Slytherin's only chance is to get the snitch. But will they be able to? Walker's already proven he'll do just about anything to get it first."

Matt peered up at the sky, watching the two seekers circle each other. Suddenly, without any warning, Tip plunged over a hundred feet. Not in any directed manner, but as though his broom had suddenly decided to stop working. Had he seen something? No, he was only circling. Or was he? Without even thinking he blocked an easy attempt on the central goal where he stood. He wondered... his eyes scanned the crowd. There, standing near the entrance of the pitch next to the bushy black hulk that was Hagrid, he saw a stocky red haired man in a red and gold scarf, but... yes, he could make out a green and silver pin. Charlie Weasley had made it in time.

Tip was still circling low, clearly scanning for something he had seen. Two bludgers screamed through the air at him. He swerved to sideswipe the one and dodge the other. But it was enough to break his line of sight. There was a loud cheer from Slytherin. Matt looked up in time to see Ceelee diving. Tip's head snapped up to see her too. He flattened himself against the broom and bolted off in the direction Ceelee was diving toward. It was clear he did not see the snitch, but that didn't matter, he was still closer. Ceelee twisted in the air, banking in another direction. Tip turned hard to the right, the tail of his broom accidentally sending a bludger flying at Linnea who snapped back just in time to avoid having her nose smashed. Ceelee steepened her dive, and leaned hard to the side, suddenly she was spinning like a maple seed. But why? Spinning would just cause her to fall slower.

Reg Jenkins, never one to pass up an opportunity, scored while Matt was watching. His two friends were barreling towards the same point where a little gold light flickered. Matt glanced at Charlie who was watching closely, hand tight around his broomstick. The snitch, not content to stay still and be caught flitted toward Matt's goal post. Suddenly, he saw Flint coming from below toward his second highest goal ring. He dove, adding a twisting motion to emulate Ceelee, he gripped the hoop and swung through with such force the quaffle flew across the field and right into Fallon's head. He spun around the hoop twice before he was able to slow himself and perch on the top. How could he have forgotten? The twist slowed descent by conserving gravitational energy. Which meant there would be more energy for Ceelee to use once she pulled out of her dive.

Sure enough, the next moment that was exactly what she did, flat against her broom she came screaming out of her spinning dive. Matt saw Charlie pump his fist in the air in celebration. She was neck and neck with Tip. The snitch flitted up, right into Tip's line of flight, as if it were begging him to catch it. Tip was reaching for the snitch, just a few more feet. Suddenly, Ceelee ducked down, allowing the remaining stored energy to lift her, and executed a perfect barrel roll around Tip, snatching the snitch out of thin air.

It took a moment for everyone to realize what had happened. Then Ceelee landed, holding the snitch triumphantly in the air. "And Carrow has caught the snitch! What a heartbreaker for Walker. So close. So close," Andie announced over the screams of the Slytherins. Green sparks exploded in the air. "Final score: 160 to 200. This is Slytherin's second win, but the chase for the cup is still anyone's game."

Tip hit the ground with a hard landing. Though he was too far away to hear, Matt could tell he was cursing up a storm. Ceelee walked over to him and offer him a hand to shake. Tip just stared at it. Then he screwed up his face and gripped her hand, shaking it. Matt could read Tip mouthing "Good race." Matt glanced again to Charlie Weasley, who simply smiled, turned, and walked away with Hagrid at his side. Matt wondered if Ceelee had even known he was there.

Matt took his time in the showers and changing. In the mirror he could see the large red T where his chest had hit the cross bar and, below that, the shape of the bludger on his right side. He was glad to cover both with his rugby shirt. Declan exhorted them that they not worry, it wasn't over yet. Slytherin was only barely ahead. If Ravenclaw beat them it was almost assured Hufflepuff would win so long as Tip could get the snitch before Creevey. Which Tip assured him he would do no matter what the cost.

"Just try not to get yourself killed," Declan said.

Tip rolled his eyes. "I'll try." He whispered out of the side of his mouth to Matt, "But you have to admit, it'd be a heckuva way to go." This was followed by Declan's dissection of why Ravenclaw would slaughter Slytherin, who might have a few clever plays and a good seeker, but lacked good chasers beyond Jenkins himself, and Fallon was not much to talk about as a keeper.

Matt lingered as the rest of the team filtered out. "Come on," Tip said. "They're still having a party in the common room."

"I'll catch up," Matt said, slowly putting on his sock and tying the laces of his trainers.

"Suit yourself. I'll try to save you a pumpkin pasty."

Matt waited till they were all gone, then made his way over to the Slytherin tent. He wanted to congratulate Ceelee. There was the sound of jubilation coming from within. Nott and the Sulkowskis were leading them in a rousing, if unimaginative and tuneless, song to Reg's great leadership. Reg's shadow was standing on his broom, striking a heroic pose. He could see, silhouetted near the back of the tent, Ceelee's shadow. Perhaps if he crept around he could get her attention without the others noticing. He had no desire to have to explain to all of Slytherin why he was there. Ceelee would probably hex his mouth off before he could even get the words out.

Careful, so as not to make a sound, he snuck behind the tent when he happened on a sight that caused his jaw to drop. There, standing wrapped tightly in each other's arms, green quidditch robed arms tangled in red and gold scarf, lips locked together, were Phichit and Darius Flint. Darius stopped for a moment, gazing at the other boy, when suddenly his eyes went wide. He pushed Phichit away with a loud curse. Phichit turned and saw Matt. "Don't tell my parents!" he cried.

"I gotta go," Flint said and he quickly ran off, back into the tent.

Phichit looked deflated. Matt wasn't sure what to say. "When did that?" He finally managed before remembering Izzy's griping comment. He nodded in understanding. "So that was the person you met in the hospital. But I thought he beat you up?"

"Yeah, part of his detention was to bring me my meals. And, I guess, well, I got to know him. I mean, I was kind of a jerk about his mum. Nobody was surprised as we were that it happened."

"I might argue that," Matt said.

"Yeah, well, anyway, don't tell anyone, especially not my parents. They probably wouldn't be too keen on the idea of their only son being with a... well, another guy. Let alone the son of Death Eaters. I mean, he's not like that, but you know how people are."

How Phichit was until recently, Matt thought. "You know, maybe they'd surprise you. Ever since Rita Skeeter wrote that expose on Dumbledore, people have been more accepting."

"My parents always wanted me to be like Dumbledore," Phichit smirked, "just not like this. Darius is sure his dad wouldn't be any better about it, not so bad since he's in Azkaban, but he's pretty sure his brother would kill him if he found out. Frankly, I'm a bit surprised you're not freaking out. I mean you're not... are you?"

"I don't think so," Matt answered. Phichit looked a little deflated. "But, I'm a gymnast and ballet dancer, it's not exactly uncommon. I've had loads of friends who were gay. It's not a big deal."

"It is for us. Hey, what are you doing here anyway?"

"Well, I'm not really sure I should tell you..."

"Come on, you know my secret so you know I'll keep yours."

"Alright," Matt took a deep breath. "I wanted to congratulate Ceelee."

"Wait... What? Carrow? Don't tell me you two are an item? And right under McLaggen's nose! That does explain why you went off yesterday. But I thought you had a crush on Bridget."

"No! It's not like that. I mean I do have the... How did you know I liked Bridget?"

"Everyone knows. You aren't exactly discreet about it. But a lot of guys like her, so it's not really a surprise. So you aren't dating Carrow, then?"

"Nah. But she is one of my best mates."

"Get out! With the squib? Since when?"

"Since... well, since the train ride, pretty much."

"That long? I would have never guessed. I guess my secret is safe with you."

"Let's get some lunch, it doesn't look like I'll be able to talk to her any time soon." The shadow of Ceelee had been hoisted up on a levitating chair.

"Yeah." Phichit fixed Matt with a look. "Thanks Matt."

"For what? Hey, there's Holly." He pointed to where Holly was walking aimlessly in the snow, some distance away, near the whomping willow. "Let's see if she wants to join us."

It had been difficult to persuade Holly to come back with them, despite the fact her almost translucent skin was blue from the cold. When they asked her what she was doing she simply said, "I don't know." When Matt asked her how long she had been outside she answered the same, "I don't know." Phichit looked at him worriedly. Whatever was wrong with Holly was clearly worsening. But she seemed to return to herself with a bowl of steaming soup in front of her as they all sat chatting at the end of the Ravenclaw table with Bridget and Jill who had been discussing the match. The Slytherins were absent, probably in their common room, celebrating.

"Poor Walker," Jill said, "he must've been crushed."

"He'll be okay. He's a never ending fountain of confidence. Probably for the best if he loses every once in a while," Matt replied.

"Do you think it's true Charlie Weasley taught her that move? That's the rumor, that he gave her lessons."

"Did he?" Phichit asked, clearly more interested in the answer than keeping Matt's secret.

Matt shrugged and stuck his fork in his chicken marsala. "I mean it's possible. But I couldn't say for sure."

"They were spending a lot of time together," Bridget said. "But he was only around for two days. I just figured maybe she was really into dragons. I had forgotten he was a seeker until that rumor started going around."

She's really into Weasleys, Matt thought to himself. He supposed no one else had noticed Charlie watching the match.

"That was really dirty the way they had Owen Sulkowski hit you with a bludger like that. I mean you could've really been hurt," Jill said.

"So it was Owen? I can't tell those two apart," Matt said, with a smile. He didn't want to admit how sore he was.

The doors to the great hall flew open and Prof. Sinestra burst in, out of breath. "Minerva! Minerva!" she shouted between breaths.

The headmistress stood with a look of great concern. "What is it, Aurora?"

"It's the Dark Mark! In the snow! I was setting up the telescopes when I saw it!"

"Where?"

"By the Forbidden Forest!"

"In the snow, you say?"

"Yes. Drawn in the snow."

"Where there any footprints?"

"I didn't see any"

"That is strange. Students, go to your houses," McGonagal ordered, calmly. "It's probably someone's idea of a prank, but I'd rather not take any chances until we've investigated this thoroughly."

"Probably Carrow and her followers celebrating," Wycliffe called out. "It's the Dark Mark, right? Only someone who was loyal to You Know Who would do that."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Wycliffe, we are not here to make baseless accusations. Now, if you are quite finished, please return to your house this instant."

Phichit looked over at Matt as they shuffled out of the hall. "You have to admit, it is pretty suspicious."

"Maybe, but we were just there. When would they have had the time to do something like that?"

"Look, I don't know. I mean there's a lot of them. It might not have taken long."

"Do you think Flint would do that?" Matt asked him quietly enough the others around them couldn't hear.

Phichit shuffled him toward the Hufflepuff House corridor where they wouldn't be overheard. "No. He would never. I mean he... I know him."

"Exactly, and I know Ceelee wouldn't either. Something's going on here."

"Do you think it could be a set up by McLaggen and his friends? He hates her, right? He knows she'd be the first one suspected, might even get her expelled."

"No. No Gryffindor would use the Dark Mark, even to get Slytherin in trouble. There's one thing that bothers me. Why was it in the snow and not the air? No one could see it unless they were... flying over the school... I've gotta go. Whatever you do, don't leave your house until they say it's safe."

"What? What is it?" Phichit called, but Matt was already too far gone. He needed to talk to Debbie.