A/N: I own nothing!
I couldn't resist putting a quidditch chapter, so here's the quidditch chapter!
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After the Earl's visit, everything became a blur to Clio. September soon ended and October quickly passed in a flurry of brightly colored leaves and before she knew it, it was November seventh. The past month and a half had been eventful to say the least. Particularly when Umbridge began to inspect classes. Despite her attempts, most of the teachers didn't allow her to cow them or irritate them. Professor McGonagall had even shut her up for an entire class but Clio's absolute favorite was when Umbridge had inspected Lulubell's class. The tale of that had passed through the school in less than an hour after it had occurred. Lulubell had easily made Umbridge (and by extension, the Minister) look like an inept idiot when the High Inquisitor attempted to discredit her and make her seem unfit by trying to goad an angry response out of her. The Noah of Lust had remained calm and collected throughout the entire questioning, going so far as to point out that the curriculum provided to her by the Ministry was three years behind the standard for the rest of the world and cited 'experiences from her time as a French Auror' to prove to the woman that the world wasn't as sweet and safe as the Ministry wanted the children to believe. Then she told Umbridge that she was 'acting like a child for believing in those ridiculous notions and judging others on the basis of what they were rather than who they were'. Umbridge became the butt of quite a few jokes after that. Clio's lips quirked into a slight smile at the memory before she returned to her light breakfast. Today was the first quidditch match of the school year, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Quidditch was also the only non-class related activity she enjoyed and it was the only form of relief she had from her intense training schedule. At least her fiancé had talked Lulubell into allowing her to continue to play, saying that she needed a break from training every now and then. However, Clio was not impressed by their new Keeper. Ron Weasley wasn't the best Keeper but he had been the best of those who had shown up. She'd need to catch the snitch quickly before Slytherin scored too many points. She didn't have much faith in the red head at the moment.
"This match is going to be intense." said Hermione.
"I know." replied Clio "And the Slytherin quidditch team attacking ours only proves it."
"At least they weren't stupid enough to attack you." said Hermione.
"Yeah." said Clio as she adjusted the magic suppressing bracelets she was currently wearing "Their parents warned them not to as they fear the wrath of my fiancé." After her elemental abilities had been revealed, she had agreed to wear the bracelets as the condition for her remaining on the quidditch team. She wouldn't be able to access her magic while wearing them, so that she wouldn't have an 'unfair advantage'. These bracelets had been provided to her by the ICW (after Adam had looked them over of course) and she gave them to Lulubell to keep them safe when not using them. Finishing off her meal, Clio stood and gave Hermione a reassuring smile before heading out of the Great Hall, waving to Luna who called out a 'good luck' to her while wearing a rather ridiculous lion head hat. The frosty grass crunched under her feet as she hurried down the sloping lawns towards the stadium. There was no wind at all and the sky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would be good without the drawback of direct sunlight in the eyes. Perfect weather for Quidditch. Angelina had changed already and was talking to the rest of the team when she entered and she had just finished changing into her uniform when Ron came running in. Clio pointedly ignored Ron as he fumbled with his uniform until someone took pity on him and began to help him. The team then sat down to listen to the pre-match talk while the babble of voices outside grew steadily louder as the crowd came pouring out of the castle towards the pitch.
"Ok, I've only just found out the final line-up for Slytherin," said Angelina, consulting a piece of parchment "Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with the usual gorillas, rather than anyone who can fly particularly well. They're two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don't know much about them..."
"They're Malfoy's lackeys." said Clio.
"Well, they don't look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from the other," said Angelina, pocketing her parchment "But then again, I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way on to the pitch without signposts."
"Crabbe and Goyle are of the same mould." Clio assured her. They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators stands. Some people were singing, though Clio could not make out the words. She didn't feel nervous at all. This was her game, her quidditch pitch. This was the only place should could be reckless and crazy without getting yelled at (unless she did something that was spectacularly stupid). Ron, however, was clutching his stomach and staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his complexion pale grey. Poor sap. Clio could only wonder if that was how she had looked before her first game.
"It's time," said Angelina in a hushed voice, looking at her watch "C'mon everyone and good luck." The team rose, shouldered their brooms and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight, a roar of sound greeted them in which Clio could still hear singing, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles. The Slytherin team was standing waiting for them. They were wearing silver crown-shaped badges that she noted read, Weasley is our King. They were taking a jab at Ron but Clio couldn't bring herself to care. As far as she was concerned, her and Ron were through. The new Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Montague, was built along the same lines as Dudley Dursley with massive forearms like hairy hams. Behind him lurked Crabbe and Goyle, almost as large, blinking stupidly in the sunlight, swinging their new Beaters' bats. Malfoy stood to one side, the sunlight gleaming on his white-blond head. He caught Clio's eye and smirked, tapping the crown-shaped badge on his chest. Her response was to merely roll her eyes in annoyance.
"Captains, shake hands," ordered the referee, Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reached each other. Clio could tell that Montague was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she did not wince.
"Mount your brooms..." said Madam Hooch before she placed her whistle in her mouth and blew. The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upwards. Clio zoomed higher, dodged a bludger, and then set off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a glint of gold while on the other side of the stadium, she could see Draco Malfoy was doing exactly the same. She could feel her blood begin to rush as the game started and she kept her eyes peeled for the snitch while simultaneously watching the rest of the game, a skill she had long since mastered. As usual, Lee Jordan was was doing commentary under Professor McGonagall's keen watch and it rang through the stadium and Clio listened as hard as she could through the wind whistling in her ears and the din of the crowd, all yelling and booing and singing.
"- dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger - close call, Alicia - and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?' And as Lee paused to listen, the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:
'Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley will make sure we win
Weasley is our King.'
"- and Alicia passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted and as Clio swerved to avoid a bludger, she knew Lee was trying to drown out the words of the song "Come on now, Angelina - looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! - SHE SHOOTS - SHE - aah . . ." Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zig-zagging in between Alicia and Katie; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Ron.
'Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King.' Clio couldn't help herself: abandoning her search for the Snitch for a brief moment, she wheeled around to watch Ron, a lone figure at the far end of the pitch, hovering before the three goal hoops while the massive Warrington pelted towards him.
"- and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead -" A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:
'Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring . . .'
"- so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team - come on, Ron!" But the scream of delight came from the Slytherins' end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them straight through Ron's central hoop.
"Slytherin score!" came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin - bad luck, Ron." Clio narrowed her eyes at the dirty tactic the Slytherin's were using but there was little she could or would do. Ron was on his own. Clio sighed heavily as she started circling the pitch again, staring around, trying to ignore the chorus now thundering through the stadium. There was no sign of the Snitch anywhere she looked and Malfoy was still circling the stadium just as she was. They passed one another midway around the pitch, going in opposite directions, and Clio heard Malfoy singing along with his fellow Slytherins which made her eye twitch in annoyance. She zoomed around the end of the stadium behind the Slytherin goal hoops, keeping her eyes peeled for a flash of gold while trying to ignore the annoying song. As she sped past the Slytherin Keeper, she heard Bletchley singing along with the crowd below and she gritted her teeth. That song was starting to grate on her nerves and if her magic wasn't currently being suppressed, she would've been tempted to conjure a gust of wind to knock the Slytherins off of their brooms. Suddenly, there was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins. Clio didn't even need to look to see that Slytherin had scored yet again but twenty-nil was nothing, there was still time for Gryffindor to catch up or catch the Snitch. A few goals and they would be in the lead as usual, Clio assured herself, as she bobbed and wove through the other players in pursuit of something shiny that turned out to be Montague's watch strap. But then Ron let in two more goals and an edge of panic started to grow on Clio's desire to find the Snitch. If she could just get it soon and finish the game quickly then they could still win.
"- and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on now, Angelina - GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle . . ." Clio could hear Luna's ludicrous lion hat roaring amidst the Gryffindor cheers and felt heartened as she doubled her efforts. Clio ducked a bludger that Crabbe had sent rocketing in her direction and resumed her scouring of the pitch for the Snitch, keeping one eye on Malfoy in case he showed signs of having spotted it but Malfoy, like her, was continuing to soar around the stadium, searching fruitlessly... But then Clio saw it at last: the tiny fluttering Golden Snitch was hovering feet from the ground at the Slytherin end of the pitch.
She dove...
In a matter of seconds, Malfoy was streaking out of the sky on Clio's left, a green and silver blur lying flat on his broom... The Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goal hoops and scooted off towards the other side of the stands; its change of direction suited Malfoy, who was nearer; Clio pulled her Firebolt around, she and Malfoy were now neck and neck.. Feet from the ground, Clio lifted her right hand from her broom, stretching towards the Snitch... to her right, Malfoy's arm extended too, was reaching, groping... It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds... Clio's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball. Malfoy's fingernails scrabbled the back of her hand hopelessly before Clio pulled her broom upwards, holding the struggling ball in her hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval... They were saved, it didn't matter that Ron had let in those goals, nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won.
WHAM.
A bludger hit Clio squarely in the small of the back and she flew forwards off her broom. Luckily she was only five or six feet above the ground, having dove so low to catch the Snitch, but she was winded all the same as she landed flat on her back on the frozen pitch. She heard Madam Hooch's shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands that compounded of catcalls, angry yells, and jeering, a thud, then Angelina's frantic voice.
"Are you all right? Clio, are you alright?!"
"Course I am." said Clio grimly, taking her hand and allowing her to pull her to her feet "Takes alot more than a bludger to put me out of commission." Madam Hooch was zooming towards one of the Slytherin players above him, though she couldn't see who it was from this angle.
"It was that thug Crabbe," said Angelina angrily "He whacked the bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch... but we won, Clio, we won!" Clio heard a snort from behind her and turned around, still holding the Snitch tightly in her hand: Draco Malfoy had landed close by. White-faced with fury, he was still managing to sneer.
"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Clio "I've never seen a worse Keeper . . . but then he was born in a bin . . . did you like my lyrics, Potter?"
"Unfortunately," said Clio "I prefer not to lower myself to your level, Malfoy. Therefore, I choose to completely ignored your petty little song and the fact that you're currently baiting me." She then turned away to meet the rest of the team, who were now landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph; all except Ron, who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and seemed to be making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone. Malfoy, not happy that he was being ignored, continued.
"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called as Katie and Alicia hugged Clio "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see -"
"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelina, casting Malfoy a disgusted look.
"- we couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know -" continued Malfoy. Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Clio's hand, they stiffened, looking round at Malfoy.
"Leave it!" said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little -"
"- but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" said Malfoy, sneering "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay." Clio grabbed hold of George, holding him with surprising strength for her small frame. Meanwhile, it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia, and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly.
"Fred, George, leave it." said Clio, lacing her voice with authority using a subtle wandless, wordless spell her fiancé had taught her "He's a sore loser and he's only trying to rile you up. Don't sink to his level. You'll be no better than him if you let him get to you." Clio looked around for Madam Hooch but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal bludger attack.
"Perhaps," said Malfoy, leering as he backed away "You can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it." Clio stiffened at the jab at her mother and the air around her seemed to get icy cold but she kept her grip on George.
"Unlike you, Malfoy," said Clio icily with a look on her face befitting of an ice queen "I at least have the decency to keep my mouth shut when I lose, rather than attempt to bait my opponents with petty insults and barbs. The way you're acting isn't befitting of an heir of a Noble House, Malfoy. So I suggest you hold you tongue, lest your father find out from those of higher station than your family."
"You wouldn't be so confident if you weren't betrothed to the Lord of the House of Noah." Malfoy hissed as he backed away before taking off towards the safety of his team. Once Malfoy was a safe distance away, Clio let George go.
"Just ignore him," said Clio "He isn't even worth being payed attention to." George huffed slightly before going over to his brother. Clio placed a hand on the small of her aching back and decided to have Madam Pomfrey look it over, just to be sure nothing was wrong.