THE DREAM FINALLY REALISED
"Take a look at this.," Hermione said, holding out the letter.
Natasha took it. The parchment was damp, and enormous teardrops had smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very difficult to read.
Dear Natasha, Hermione, Simran and Ron,
We lost.
I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed.
Beaky has enjoyed London.
I won't forget all the help you gave us.
Hagrid
"They can't do this," said Natasha. "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. "We will work harder this time. We promised Hagrid that we are going to help him, but we failed him by not working hard."
"Yeah. He will have our full support if he is going for an appeal.", Simran said with determination.
The safety measures imposed on the students since Black's second break-in made it impossible for Natasha, Ron, Simran and Hermione 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 and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me. 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!"
"We are going to put even more of a bigger effort this time. We will win in the appeal for sure.", Natasha said.
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.
"S'no good, guys," 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!"
Natasha stared at Malfoy in disbelief. His excuses the last year did not make her forgive him for this. Simran and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione got there first - SMACK!
She had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster. Malfoy staggered. Natasha, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermione raised her hand again.
"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul - you evil -"
"Hermione!" said Simran weakly, and she tried to grab her hand as she swung it back. Natasha was smiling about this as she had done the same thing to Draco the last year for calling Hermione a bad thing.
"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!", Simran said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.
"That was bloody brilliant.", Ron said with a smile. "But I say that he's not worth any of our time."
"Natasha, 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. Me hitting Malfoy would have been for nothing."
"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!" said Professor Flitwick reprovingly as they opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs -"
The three of them hurried to a desk at the back and opened their bags. Ron looked behind her.
"Where's Hermione gone?"
Natasha looked around too. Hermione hadn't entered the classroom, yet Natasha knew she had been right next to her when she had opened the door.
"That's weird," said Natasha, staring at the other two. "Maybe - maybe she went to the bathroom or something?"
"But, she would have told us, wouldn't she?", Simran asked. "and its not like her to be late for a class."
But Hermione didn't turn up all lesson.
"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.
"Yeah. The sheer number of classes she attending is making her get exhausted.", Simran agreed.
"Do you have any idea, how she is attending all the classes?", Ron asked Natasha.
"I have absolutely no idea.", Natasha said shaking her head.
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 the three of them 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.
"If that is the case, I am going to hex that idiot to oblivion.", Natasha said angrily.
"You have to wait in line.", Simran said. "I would be doing it first."
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. Natasha 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 Simran. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"
"I have Arithmancy.", Natasha said informing Hermione.
"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"
"But how could you forget?" said Natasha. "You were with us while we were climbing the stairs."
"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!"
"How did you even not notice that, you were not with us the whole time?", Simran asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I-I have absolutely no idea.", Hermione stammered.
"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."
"Yeah, Hermione. Too many subjects are making you go mad.", Simran agreed.
"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 Natasha as she was going to her Arithmancy classroom. Natasha saw that, Hermione had a very angry look on her face. She looked had the exact same look as she had before punching Malfoy. Natasha somehow knew that, she must have somehow attended her divination class and something must have happened there that made her really angry.
"So, what had happened during your divination class that really pissed you off?", Natasha asked Hermione.
Hermione looked at her with a shocked expression and asked, "H-how?"
"Oh come on Hermione. It does not take a genius to figure out that, you have somehow been attending both the classes simultaneously.", Natasha said. "I am not going to ask you how, as you told that you are not allowed to share with anyone."
"Its Trelawney. That idiot lady keeps on predicting your death.", Hermione said with disgust.
"What is so new in that? You told that, she kept doing that in every class?", Natasha said.
"I reached my breaking point, we were doing crystal gazing today, and she made a separate ball for you. When she looked at the ball, she said that she saw the grim again.", Hermione said. "That is when I thought enough is enough and left the class."
"What do you mean, left the class?", Natasha asked.
"I am thinking of dropping the class altogether. I don't think I can stand that fraud any longer.", Hermione said.
"That is a very good thing that you did, Hermione.", Natasha said with a smile. "Now, your workload will be reduced."
"Yes.", Hermione said with a smile as they entered inside.
The arithmancy class seemed to cheer Hermione up, as they were discussing about the theorem that Hermione and Natasha had studied. The same theorem that, Cedric had thought her. Hermione and Natasha answered all the questions that the Professor asked. The professor was impressed by their answers and awarded Gryffindor house number of points for that.
Then after the Arithmancy lesson, the two of them met up with Ron and Hermione. Natasha and Hermione saw that, they were actually holding hands while walking which caused both the girls to giggle.
"There you are!", Ron called. "Why did you run out of divination class for?"
"You know very well, why I did that Ron. She kept on predicting Natasha's death. I just couldn't handle that shit anymore.", Hermione said.
"I don't blame her. She really was irritating.", Simran agreed.
"Not you too, Sim. Are you also thinking of quitting?", Ron asked horrified.
"Nah. I think I will stay.", Simran said.
"Think about it, Hermione. Many of her predictions has come true. She had even predicted that, one of us will leave forever around easter.", said Ron.
"That is a really nonsense prediction if you ask me.", Natasha said. Ron just shook his head and they all returned to the common room where they all just sat and started discussing about the previous night.
"You said you saw Peter Pettigrew on the map, and that is why you went to investigate.", Hermione asked and Natasha nodded.
"But, how is that even possible? Peter Pettigrew is already dead!", Simran said.
"That was my initial thought too.", Natasha agreed.
"Maybe the map is malfunctioning.", Ron said. "Every magical thing is bound to make errors, you know."
"Maybe. But the thing is that, Fred and George never mentioned about any anamolies or mistakes in this.", Natasha said.
"Maybe they just didn't see or notice.", Ron said.
"Maybe.", Natasha said thoughtfully.
The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. 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. Natasha and Simran were also in a relatively bad state as they also had taken three subjects.
Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal. 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.
Natasha, meanwhile, had to fit in her homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. This was making her nearly as bad as Hermione. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Natasha, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.
"So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up," Wood told Natasha constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Natasha, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, Haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're -"
"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Natasha yelled. She was getting pressure from all sides, and it was nearly completely tiring her out. Once she even had the crazy thought of leaving Quidditch due to the sheer pressure.
The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley had been Seeker. The enmity between Gryffindors and Slytherins were at its highest point ever. Malfoy was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Hogsmeade telling the housemates about how haunted the place was and how he narrowly escaped the ghosts in there. Natasha hadn't forgotten the berating Draco had given about Hagrid but it was the matter of Buckbeak that made her most determined to beat Malfoy in front of the entire school.
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.
Natasha was having a particularly bad time of it. She couldn't walk to class without Slytherin girls of Pansy's gang sticking out their legs and trying to trip her up; Pansy and Bullstrode kept popping up wherever she went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw her surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Natasha should be accompanied everywhere she went, in case the Slytherins tried to put her out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Natasha to get to classes on time because she was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Natasha was more concerned for her Firebolt's safety than her own. When she wasn't flying it, she locked it securely in her trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there.
All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match
"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.
"I know. Too much noise in here.", Natasha said. "Even in the dormitory, its noicy."
There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George Weasley were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Natasha was sitting with Ron, Simran and Hermione, removed from the center of things, trying not to think about the next day, because every time she did, she had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of her stomach.
"You're going to be fine," Hermione told her, though she looked positively terrified.
"You are going to show the Slytherins who's the boss.", Simran said. "The only way that they might win is to, give a wish to lord Venkateshwara that, if they win they will shave their heads as an offering."
"Lord who?", Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.
"That's a god in Hindu mythology that, we believe if we pray he will grant our wishes.", Simran said.
Parvati heard that and said, "I don't think there is any Indian in the Slytherin side."
"That is a really good thing.", Natasha said sarcastically.
"Cheer up, Natasha. You've got a Firebolt!" said Ron.
"Yeah ..." said Natasha, her stomach writhing.
It came as a relief when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"
Natasha slept badly. First she dreamed that she had overslept, and that Wood was yelling, "Where were you? We had to use Neville instead!" Then she dreamed that the Slytherin team arrived for the match riding dragons. She was flying at breakneck speed, trying to avoid a spurt of flames from a players steed's mouth, when she realized she had forgotten her Firebolt. She fell through the air and woke with a start.
It was a few seconds before Natasha remembered that the match hadn't taken place yet, that she was safe in bed, and that the Slytherin team definitely wouldn't be allowed to play on dragons. She was feeling very thirsty. Quietly as she could, she got out of her four-poster and went to pour himself some water from the silver jug beneath the window.
The grounds were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent-looking. It looked as though the conditions for the match would be perfect.
Natasha set down her goblet and was about to turn back to her bed when something caught her eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn.
Natasha dashed to her bedside table, snatched up her glasses, and put them on, then hurried back to the window.
She peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute's frantic searching, spotted it. It was skirting the edge of the forest now...It wasn't the Grim at all ... it was a cat ... Natasha clutched the window ledge in relief as she recognized the bottlebrush tail. It was only Crookshanks...
Or was it only Crookshanks? Natasha squinted, pressing her nose flat against the glass. Crookshanks seemed to have come to a halt. Natasha was sure she could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees too.
And just then, it emerged - a gigantic, shaggy black dog, moving stealthily across the lawn, Crookshanks trotting at its side. Natasha stared. What did this mean? Cats were supposed to be mortal enemies to dogs. Natasha knew that, it was not normal cat behaviour. She just shrugged it off and went back to sleep.
Natasha and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. Natasha saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Natasha noticed that Malfoy looked even paler than usual.
Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then she 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.
"Good luck, Natasha!" called Cedric, and he came to her and kissed her cheek when no body was seeing. Natasha felt herself blushing.
"Okay - no wind to speak of - sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it - ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kickoff -"
Wood paced the field, staring around with the team behind him. Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spilling onto the lawn.
"Locker rooms," said Wood tersely.
None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. Natasha wondered if they were feeling like she was: as though she'd eaten something extremely wriggly for breakfast. In what seemed like no time at all, Wood was saying, "Okay, it's time, let's go -"
They walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Half of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP". Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile even Some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were cheering for Slytherin as well. The whole school was divided in half in the matter.
"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.
"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. Natasha, however, thought Lee had a point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person On the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.
"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.
Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.
"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three...two...one..."
The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. Natasha felt her hair fly back off her forehead; her nerves left her in the thrill of the flight; she glanced around, saw Draco on her tail, and sped off in search of the Snitch.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinner 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!¨C SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight
"OUCH!"
Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.
"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"
A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.
"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"
"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.
"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Natasha turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Flint, still bleeding freely, fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.
"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass - very difficult indeed - YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"
Relieved, Natasha zoomed away, gazing around for the Snitch, but still making sure she caught every word of Lee's commentary. It was essential that she hold Malfoy off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty points up.
"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!"
Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart-wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but 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!"
Natasha felt a huge jolt of excitement. She had seen the Snitch - it was shimmering at the foot of one of the Gryffindor goal posts - but she mustn't catch it yet - and if Malfoy saw it.
Faking a look of sudden concentration, Natasha pulled her Firebolt around and sped off toward the Slytherin end - it worked. Draco went haring after her, clearly thinking Natasha had seen the Snitch there...
WHOOSH.
One of the Bludgers came streaking past Natasha's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again...
WHOOSH.
The second Bludger grazed Natasha's elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.
Natasha had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward her, clubs raised - She turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.
"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 -!"
But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, 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 -"
It was turning into the dirtiest game Natasha had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.
The Snitch had disappeared again. Malfoy was still keeping close to Natasha as he soared over the match, looking around for it once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead -
Katie scored. 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, completely winded.
Madam Hooch was beside herself -
"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "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 Natasha caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Natasha could almost feel hundreds of eyes following her as he soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Malfoy speeding along behind her.
And then she saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above her.
Natasha put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in her ears; she stretched out her hand, but suddenly, the Firebolt was slowing down -
Horrified, she looked around. Flint had thrown himself forward, grabbed hold of the Firebolt's tail, and was pulling it back. He had done it because, Draco was very much behind her.
"You -"
Natasha was angry enough to hit Filch, but couldn't reach - Malfoy was panting with the effort of holding onto the Firebolt, but his eyes were sparkling maliciously. She had achieved what he'd wanted to do - the Snitch had disappeared again.
"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Flint was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Thankfully, the snitch had disappeared before Malfoy could catch it.
"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 Flint'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. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Natasha, were being spurred on to greater heights.
"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal - Montague scores -" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor..."
Natasha was now marking Malfoy so closely their knees kept hitting each other. Natasha wasn't going to let Malfoy anywhere near the Snitch.
"Get out of it, Natasha! I know what Flint did was wrong." Malfoy yelled in frustration as he tried to turn and found Natasha blocking him. Natasha just raised her eyebrow. She couldn't believe that, Draco would ever accept his mistake during a quidditch game.
"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"
Natasha looked around. Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper - they were all going to block her - Natasha wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low she was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, she shot toward the Slytherins.
"AAAAAAARRRGH!"
They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina's way was clear.
"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!"
Natasha, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field.
And then she saw something to make her heart stand still. Malfoy was diving, a look of triumph on his face - there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer -
Natasha urged the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was miles ahead -
"Go! Go! Go!" Natasha urged her broom. She was gaining on Draco - Natasha flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at her - she was at Malfoy's ankles - she was level -
Natasha threw himself forward, took both hands off her broom. She knocked Draco's arm out of the way and -
"YES!"
She pulled out of her dive, her hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Natasha soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in her ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in her fist, beating its wings hopelessly against her fingers.
Then Wood was speeding toward her, half-blinded by tears and gave her a big handshake. Natasha felt two large thumps as Angelina's and Alicia's hit them; then Fred's George's, and Katie's voices, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.
Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Natasha had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on her. Then she, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, she saw Hagrid, Plastered with crimson rosettes - "Yeh beat 'em, Natasha, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!"
There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Natasha, were Ron, Simran and Hermione. Words failed them. They simply beamed as Natasha was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.
If only there had been a Dementor around. As a sobbing Wood passed Natasha the Cup, as she lifted it into the air, Natasha felt she could have produced the world's best Patronus.