Chapter 14

Felix Felicis

KIARA

I had Herbology first thing the following morning. Sian and I had been unable to tell Chris and Chrissie about our lesson with Crighton over breakfast for fear of being overheard, and also the fact that Chris was swept up with Dena, but we filled them in as the four of us walked across the vegetable patch towards the greenhouses. The weekend's brutal wind had died out at last; the weird mist had returned and it took a little longer than usual to find the correct greenhouse.

"Wow, scary thought, the girl She-You-Know," said Chrissie quietly, as we took our places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps that formed that term's project, and we began pulling on our protective gloves. "But I still don't get why Ma's showing you all this. I mean, it's really interesting and everything, but what's the point?"

"Dunno," I said, inserting a gum shield. "But she says it's really important and it'll help me survive."

"I think it's fascinating," said Sian earnestly. "It makes absolute sense to know as much about Zira as possible. How else will we find out her weaknesses? What do you think, Rickers?"

Chris thought hard for a moment, then said, "Well, I think it's kind of creepy, but if Ma thinks it's important, then who are we to question her judgement?"

"So how was Beadu's latest party?" I asked him thickly through the gum shield.

"Oh, it was quite fun, really," said Chris, now putting on protective goggles. "I mean, she drones on about famous ex-pupils a bit, and she absolutely fawns on MacGuire because he's so well-connected, but she gave us some really nice food and she introduced us to Glen Johnson."

"Glen Johnson?" said Chrissie, her eyes widening. "The Glen Johnson? Captain of Lancashire?"

"Yeah," said Chris. "Personally, I thought he was a bit full of himself, but - "

"Quite enough talk over here, dudes!" said Spud briskly, bustling over and looking stern. "You're lagging behind, everyone else has started and Nikita's already got her first pod!"

We looked around; sure enough, there sat Nikita with a bloody lip and several nasty scratches along the side of her face, but clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit.

"OK, Professor, we're starting now!" said Chrissie, adding quietly, when he had turned away again, "Should've used Muffliato, Kiara."

"No, we shouldn't!" said Sian at once, looking as she always did, intensely cross at the thought of the Half-Blood Princess and her spells. "Well, come on ... we'd better get going ..."

She gave Chris, Chrissie and I an apprehensive look; we all took deep breaths and then dived at the gnarled stump between us.

It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramble-like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Sian's hair and Chrissie beat it back with a pair of secateurs; I succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all the tentacle-like branches; Sian plunged her arm bravely into this hole, which closed like a trap around her elbow; Chris, Chrissie and I tugged and wrenched at the vines, forcing the hole to open again and Sian snatched her arm free, clutching in her fingers a pod just like Nikita's. At once, the prickly vines shot back inside and the gnarled stump sat there looking like an innocently dead lump of wood.

"You know, I don't think I'll be having any of these in my garden when I've got my own place," said Chrissie, pushing her goggles up on to her forehead and wiping sweat from her face.

"Pass me a bowl," said Sian, holding the pulsating pod at arm's length; I handed over one and she dropped the pod into it with a disgusted look on her face.

"Don't be squeamish, squeeze it out, dudes, they're best when fresh!" called Spud.

"Anyway," said Chris, continuing our interrupted conversation as though a lump of wood had not just attacked us, "Beadu's going to have a Christmas party, Kiara, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because she actually asked me to check your free evenings, so she could be sure to have it on a night you can come."

I groaned. Chrissie, meanwhile, who was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up and squashing it as hard as she could, said angrily, "And this is another party just for Beadu's favourites, is it?"

"I'm afraid so, Chrissie," said Chris. "Just for the Spider Club."

The pod flew out from under Chrissie's fingers and hit the greenhouse glass, rebounding on to the back of Spud's head and knocking his hat off. I went to retrieve the pod; when I got back, Sian was watching Chris and Chrissie warily, for they were in the middle of an intense argument, and I heard Chris say, "Look, I didn't come up with the name "Spider Club" - "

" "Spider Club"," repeated Chrissie with a sneer worthy of Malty. "It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you take Dena with you, then Beadu can make you King and Queen Spider - "

"We're allowed to bring guests - "

"We are?" Sian interrupted excitedly, perking up at this notion, but Chrissie's expression was far from happy at this news.

"Oh, fantastic! Just fantastic! As usual, I'm the one who's been left out! Why am I not surprised?" said Chrissie sarcastically, throwing her hands in the air.

Sian looked slightly hurt by her sister's attitude, as she said, "Actually, I was going to say that the next time I saw Beadu, I was going to ask her whether I could bring you ..."

I suddenly wished the pod had flown a little further, so that I need not have been sitting there with the three of them. Unnoticed by any, I seized the bowl that contained the pod and I began to try and open it by the noisiest and most energetic means I could think of; unfortunately, I could still hear every word of their conversation.

"You were going to ask me, Sian?" said Chrissie, in a completely different tone.

"Yes," said Sian, angry now. "But now that I know what you think, I'll write to Kopa and ask him to come instead!"

There was a pause, while I continued to pound the resilient pod with a trowel. The pause stretched on for longer than necessary, to the point where it was becoming uncomfortable to bear, until I missed the pod, hit the bowl and it shattered.

"Reparo!" I said hastily, poking the pieces with my wand, and the bowl sprang back together again. The crash, however, appeared to have awoken Chris, Sian and Chrissie to my presence. Sian looked flustered, and immediately started fussing about for her copy of Flesh-Eating Trees of the World to find out the correct way to juice Snargaluff pods; Chrissie, on the other hand, looked sheepish and kept her head down, as though ashamed of herself - and Chris, well, he just looked annoyed.

"Hand that over, Kiara," said Sian hurriedly, "it says we're supposed to puncture them with something sharp ..."

I pushed her the pod in the bowl, and Chris, Chrissie and I snapped our goggles back over our eyes and dived, once more, for the stump.

I suppose I wasn't surprised - well ... Chris and Chrissie arguing, that I was surprised about, for in all the years I had known them, they had never argued - for they were siblings, after all, and siblings fight all the time. I knew that Sian and Chrissie drove each other crazy every hour of the day that it had become a normal thing that I didn't notice any more. But for the three of them to fall out with each other, that was different. They couldn't split up - we couldn't. It had always been the four of us, standing tall together ... but if our group fell apart because of Sian and Chrissie ... somehow, the thought filled me with dread.

"Gotcha!" yelled Chrissie, pulling a second pod from the stump just as Sian managed to burst the first one open, so that the bowl was full of tubers wriggling like pale green worms.

The rest of the lesson passed without further mention of Beadu's party. Although I watched me three friends more closely over the next few days, Chris, Sian and Chrissie did not seem any different except that they were a little politer to each other than usual. I supposed that I would just have to wait to see what happened under the influence of Butterbeer in Beadu's dimly lit room on the night of the party. In the meantime, however, I had more pressing worries.

The a few days later at breakfast, I received a reply from my father.

My dearest Kiara,

Your mother and I are well, but we were shocked to hear about Mona stealing Pumbaa's old things - well, ours now - your mother in particular; you know how much Pumbaa meant to her. You should have seen her, screaming and shouting all over the place. I had to work extra hard to convince her to settle down, for that amount of stress could not have been good for the baby, and after I told her that I would speak to Crighton about it, she listened to me.

Now, about your friend, Keith Ball. Your mother and I were shocked to read about what had happened to him in your last letter, sweetheart. We could hardly believe it. We're glad to hear that you're safe, of course, but of all the places for someone to get cursed, and the fact that it was somewhere close to Dragon Mort at school, it's unbelievable! It's fortunate that you got help when you did, Kiara. Please keep your mother and I updated on Keith's progress and whether he's all right.

Now, on to the Malty girl. I think you're looking too far into this, Kiara, as does your mother. If Professor Darbus says that the Malty girl was in detention with her, then who are you to argue with that? I know you think she was involved in this somehow, Kiara, but don't you think it could be possible that you want her to be involved because you hate her that much? No matter what you think, I want you to drop this obsession that I think you've started with this girl, thinking that she's involved in some evil stuff (even though that is kind of true, because of her family being Love Destroyers and all).

Your mother and I will be in touch again soon.

All our love,

Daddy and Mum

I understood why my parents were worried about me, but I was so convinced that Malty had joined the Love Destroyers that I was going to blatantly ignore what my father had said in his letter. Now back to the story.

Keith Ball was still in St Mungo's Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that my promising Lion-Heart team I had been training so carefully since September was one Chaser short. I had kept putting off replacing Keith in the hope that he would return, but our opening match against Snake-Eyes was looming and I finally had to accept that he would not be back in time to play.

I did not think I could stand another full-house tryout with a sinking feeling that had little to do with Quidditch, I cornered Dena Wright after Transfiguration one day, who had Chris on her arm. Most of the class had already left, although several twittering yellow birds were still zooming around the room, all of Sian's creation; none of us apart from Sian, of course, had succeeded in conjuring so much as a feather from thin air.

"Are you still interested in playing Chaser, Dena?"

"Wha - ?" Yeah, of course!" said Dena excitedly. Over Dena's shoulder I saw Zara Finn slamming her books into her bag, looking sour. One of the reasons why I would have preferred not to ask Dena to play was that I knew Zara would not like it. On the other hand, I had to do what was best for the team, and Dena had out-flown Zara at the tryouts.

"Well then, you're in," I said. "There's a practice tonight, seven o'clock."

"Right," said Dena. "Cheers, Kiara! Blimey, I can't believe it!"

"Are you sure about this, Kiara?" said Chris, looking at me questioningly, while looking thrilled for Dena, which made my stomach drop.

"Er, yeah - yeah, absolutely. She was one of the best at the tryouts, and she'll be great on the team seeing as Keith's going to be out of action for a while," I said, smiling, whilst trying not to let Chris see that I was currently dying inside. He and Zara then left the room together, leaving Zara and I alone in a rather uncomfortable moment together, made no easier when a bird dropping landed on Zara's head as one of Sian's canaries whizzed over us.

Zara was not the only person disgruntled by the choice of Keith's substitute. There was much muttering in the common room about the fact that I had chosen three of my classmates for the team. As I had endured much worse mutterings than this in my school career, I was not particularly bothered, but all the same, the pressure was increasing to provide a win in the upcoming match against Snake-Eyes. If Lion-Heart won, I knew that the whole house would forget that they had criticised me and swear that they had always known it was a great team. If we lost ... well, I thought wryly, I had still endured worse mutterings ...

I had no reason to regret my choice once I saw Dena fly that evening; she worked well with Chris and Danny. The Beaters, Peet and Cartwright, were getting better all the time. The only problem was Chrissie.

I had known all along that Chrissie was an inconsistent player who suffered from nerves and a lack of confidence, and unfortunately, the looming prospect of the opening game of the season seemed to have brought out all her old insecurities. After letting in half a dozen goals, most of them scored by Chris, her technique became wilder and wilder, until she finally punched an oncoming Danny Roberts in the mouth.

"It was an accident, I'm sorry, Danny, really sorry!" Chrissie shouted after him as he zigzagged back to the ground dripping blood everywhere. "I just - "

"Panicked," Chris said angrily, landing next to Danny and examining his fat lip. "You know, Chrissie, you can be a real moron sometimes! I mean, look at the state of him!"

"I can fix that," I said, landing beside the two boys, pointing my wand at Danny's mouth and saying, "Episkey". "And Chris, don't call Chrissie a moron, you're not the captain of this team - "

"Well, you seemed too busy to call her a moron and I thought someone should - "

I bit back a laugh.

"In the air, everyone, let's go ..."

Overall it was one of the worst practices we had had all term, though I did not feel that honesty was the best policy when we were that close to the match.

"Good work, everyone, I think we'll flatten Snake-Eyes," I said bracingly, and the Chasers and Beaters left the changing room looking reasonably happy with themselves.

"I played like a sack of dragon dung," said Chrissie in a hollow voice when the door had swung shut behind Chris.

"No you didn't," I said firmly. "You're the best Keeper I tried out, Chrissie. Your only problem is nerves."

I kept up a countless flow of encouragement all the way back to the castle, and by the time we reached the second floor Chrissie was looking marginally more cheerful. When I pushed open the tapestry to take our usual shortcut up to Lion-Heart Tower, however, we found ourselves looking at Chris and Dena, who were locked in a close embrace and were kissing fiercely as if glued together.

When I saw them, I felt like I had no insides at all, for I felt like they had dropped right out of my body. But as soon as I felt them come back, if felt as though they had turned themselves into led, as the sudden desire to pull Dena from Chris and push her down the stairs overwhelmed me. Wrestling with this sudden madness, I heard Chrissie's voice as though from a great distance away.

"Oi!"

Chris and Dena broke apart and looked around.

"What?" said Chris.

"I don't want to find my own brother snogging people in public!"

"This was a deserted corridor 'til you came butting in!" said Chris.

Dena was looking embarrassed. She was giggling nervously as she shot me a shifty grin that I did not return, as the urge to resist pushing Dena down the stairs was becoming all the harder to resist all the times she stood there.

"Er ... c'mon, Chris," said Dena, "let's go back to the common room ..."

"You go!" said Chris. "I want a word with my dear sister!"

Dena left, looking as though she was not sorry to depart the scene.

"Right," said Chris, glaring at Chrissie, "let's get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do with them, Chrissie - "

"Yeah, it is!" said Chrissie, just as angrily. "D'you think that Sian or I or anyone else in our family want to hear people saying our brother's a - "

"A what?" shouted Chris, drawing his wand. "A what, Chrissie?"

"She doesn't mean anything, Chris - " I said automatically, though privately agreeing with Chrissie.

"Oh yes she does!" he said, firing up at me. "Just because she's never snogged anyone in her life, just because the best kiss she's ever had is from our Uncle Paul - "

"Shut your mouth!" bellowed Chrissie, bypassing red and turning maroon.

"No, I will not!" yelled Chris, beside himself. "I've seen you with Ferdinand, hoping he'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see him, it's pathetic! If you went out a bit and get a bit of snogging done yourself you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!"

Chrissie had pulled out her wand too; I stepped swiftly between them.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Chrissie roared, trying to get a clear shot of Chris around me, as I was standing protectively in front of him with my arms outstretched. "Just because I don't do it in public - !"

Chris snorted derisively, trying to push me out of the way.

"Been kissing Piggledon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Uncle Paul under your pillow?"

"You - "

A streak of orange light flew under my left arm and missed Chris by inches; I pushed Chrissie up against the wall.

"Don't be stupid - "

"Kiara's snogged Khan Chan!" shouted Chris, beside himself. "And Sian's snogged Kopa, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Chrissie, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"

And with that, he stormed away. I quickly let go of Chrissie; the look on her face was murderous. We both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs Robbs, Mr Match's cat, appeared round the corner, which broke the tension.

"C'mon," I said, as the sound of Match's shuffling feet reached our ears.

We hurried up the stairs and along a seventh-floor corridor. "Oi, out of the way!" Chrissie barked at a small boy who jumped in fright and dropped a bottle of toad-spawn. I hardly noticed the sound of shattering glass; I felt disorientated, dizzy; I thought that being struck by lightning must have felt something like this. It's just because he's Chrissie's brother, I told myself. You just didn't like seeing him kissing Dena because he's Chrissie's brother ...

But unbidden into my mind came an image of that same deserted corridor with Chris kissing me instead ... his scent overwhelming me ... the image of his fingers caressing my face and back, and becoming entangled in my hair made my heart fly ... until I saw Chrissie ripping open the tapestry curtain and drawing her wand on me, shouting things like "betrayal of trust" ... "supposed to be my friend" ...

I was brought out of my rather interesting thoughts by Chrissie, who said, "Dilligrout," darkly to the Fat Lord, and we climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.

Neither of us mentioned Chris again; indeed, we barely spoke to each other for the rest of the evening and we got into bed in silence, both of us absorbed in our own thoughts.

I lay awake for a long time that night, looking up at the canopy if my four poster, trying to convince myself that my feelings for Chris were entirely sisterly. We had lived, had we not, like brother and sister all summer, playing Quidditch, teasing Chrissie and having a laugh about Sam and Ferdinand? I had known Chris for years ... he had always been part of our group ... so it was natural that I should feel protective ... natural that I should want to look out for him ... want to rip Dena limb from limb for kissing him ... no ... I would have to control that particular sisterly feeling ...

Chrissie moaned in her sleep.

He's Chrissie's brother, I told myself firmly. Chrissie's brother. He's out of bounds. I would not risk my friendship with Chrissie for anything. I punched my pillow into a more comfortable shape and waited for sleep to come, trying my utmost not to allow my thoughts to stray anywhere near Chris.

I awoke the next morning feeling slightly dazed and confused by a series of dreams in which Chrissie had chased me with a Beater's bat, but by midday I would have happily exchanged the dream Chrissie for the real one, who was not only cold-shouldering Chris (who remained by Dena's side all day) and Dena, but also treating a hurt and bewildered Sian with an icy, sneering indifference. What was more, Chrissie seemed to have become, overnight, as touchy and ready to lash out as the average Shudder-Ended Crab. I spent the day attempting to keep the peace between Sian and Chrissie with no success: finally, Sian departed for bed in high dudgeon and Chrissie stalked off not that long after Sian, and swearing angrily at several frightened first-years for looking at her as she went.

To my dismay, Chrissie's new aggression did not wear off over the next few days. Worse still, it coincided with an even deeper dip in her Keeper skills, which made her still more aggressive, so that during the final Quidditch practice before Saturday's match, she failed to save every single goal the Chasers aimed at her, but bellowed at everybody so much that Danny Roberts slapped her across the face.

Chrissie looked shocked for a second, but quickly became angry again.

"What did you do that for?" Chrissie yelled.

"You started it!" Danny yelled back. "Shouting at us all just because you have issues! Who do you think you are?"

"Danny's right, Chrissie, so why don't you shut up and leave us all alone?" shouted Peet, who was about two-thirds Chrissie's height, though admittedly carrying a heavy bat.

"ENOUGH!" I bellowed, for I had seen Chris glowering in Chrissie's direction and, remembering his reputation as an accomplished caster of the Bat-Bogey Hex, I soared over to intervene before things got out of hand. "Peet, go and pack up the Bludgers. Danny, I know you meant well, but please try to control yourself in the future. Chrissie ..." I waited until the rest of the team were out of earshot before saying it, "you're my best mate, but carry on treating the rest of the team like this and I'm going to have to kick you off the team."

I really thought for a moment that Chrissie was going might hit me, but then something much worse happened: Chrissie seemed to sag on her broom; all the fight went out of her and she said, "I resign. I'm pathetic."

"You're not pathetic and you're not resigning!" I said fiercely, seizing Chrissie by the front of her robes. "You can save anything when you're on form, it's a mental problem you've got!"

"You calling me mental?"

"Yeah, maybe I am!"

We glared at each other for a moment, then Chrissie shook her head wearily.

"I know you haven't got any time to find another Keeper, so I'll play tomorrow, but if we lose, and we will, I'm taking myself off the team."

Nothing I said made any difference. I tried boosting Chrissie's confidence all through dinner, but Chrissie was too busy being grumpy and surly with Sian to notice. I persisted in the common room that evening, but my assertion that the whole team would be devastated if Chrissie left was somewhat undermined by the fact that the rest of the team was sitting in a huddle in a distant corner, clearly muttering about Chrissie and casting her nasty looks. Finally, I tired getting angry again in the hope of provoking Chrissie into a defiant, and hopefully goal-saving, attitude, but this strategy did not appear to work any better than encouragement; Chrissie went to bed as dejected and hopeless as ever.

I lay awake for a very long time in the darkness that night. I did not want to lose the upcoming match; not only was it my first as Captain, but I was determined to beat Dani Malty at Quidditch even if I could not yet prove my suspicions about her. Yet if Chrissie had played as she had done in the last few practices, our chances of winning were very slim ...

If only there was something I could do to make Chrissie pull herself together ... make her play at the top of her form ... something that would ensure that Chrissie had a really good day ...

And the answer came to me in one, sudden, glorious stroke of inspiration.

Breakfast on the morning of the match was the usual excitable affair; the Snake-Eyes hissed and booed loudly as every member of my Lion-Heart team entered the Great Hall. I glanced at the ceiling and saw a clear, pale blue sky; a good omen.

The Lion-Heart table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Chrissie and I approached. I grinned and waved; Chrissie grimaced weakly and shook her head.

"Cheer up, Chrissie!" called Larry. "I know you'll be brilliant!"

"Larry's right, Chrissie! You'll be fine!" said Ben, sending an annoyed look at Larry, who kept his gaze focused on Chrissie.

Chrissie ignored them both.

"Tea?" I asked her. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

"Anything," said Chrissie glumly, taking a moody bite of toast.

A few minutes later Sian, who had become so tired of her sister's recent unpleasant behaviour that she had not come down to breakfast with Chrissie and I, paused on her way up the table.

"How are you both feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Chrissie's head.

"Fine," I said, concentrating on handing Chrissie a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Chrissie. Drink up."

Chrissie had just raised her glass to her lips when Sian spoke sharply.

"Don't drink that, Chrissie!"

Chrissie and I looked up at her.

"Why not?" said Chrissie.

Sian was staring at me as though she could not believe her eyes.

"You just put something in that drink."

"Excuse me?" I said.

"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into my sister's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, stowing the little bottle hastily in my pocket.

"Chrissie, I warn you, don't drink it!" Sian said again, alarmed, but Chrissie picked up the glass, drained it in one and said, "Stop bossing me about, Sian."

She looked scandalised. Bending low so that only I could hear her she said, "You should be expelled for that. I'd never believed it of you, Kiara!"

"Hark who's talking," I whispered back. "Confunded anyone lately?"

Sian stood up and looked at Chrissie, hurt. "You know what, Chrissie?" she said. "Over these past few days, I've seen you become this ... person, who's so different from the sister I know. You've lost yourself, Chrissie ... and I don't know who you are any more."

And with that, Sian stormed away from the table. Chrissie, I noticed, didn't seem fazed by her departure; but as I looked at the doors, I saw Sian standing there, looking at us (well, Chrissie really), and seeing Chrissie not looking at her hurt her more than she showed, I think, as she turned on her heel and left the Hall.

I was sad that Sian and Chrissie's sisterly relationship had broken, but all the same, Sian had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was. I then looked round at Chrissie, who was smacking her lips.

"Nearly time," I said blithely.

The frosty grass crunched underfoot as we strode down to the stadium.

"Pretty lucky the weather's this good, eh?" I asked Chrissie.

"Yeah," said Chrissie, who was pale and sick-looking.

Chris and Danny were already wearing their Quidditch robes and were waiting in the changing room.

"Conditions look ideal," said Chris, ignoring Chrissie. "And guess what? That Snake-Eyes Chaser, Vela - she took a Bludger to the head yesterday during their practice, and she's too sore to play! And even better than that - Malty's gone off sick, too!"

"What?" I said, wheeling round to stare at him. "She's ill? What's wrong with her?"

"No idea, but it's great for us," said Chris brightly. "They're playing Hackett instead; she's a fifth-year, and from what Beth and Kestrel have told me about her, she's an idiot."

I smiled vaguely back, but as I put on my scarlet robes my mind was far from Quidditch. Malty had once before claimed she could not play due to injury, but on that occasion she had made sure the whole match was rescheduled for a time that suited the Snake-Eyes better. I wondered why she was now happy to let a substitute go on? Was she really ill, or was she faking it?

"Fishy, isn't it?" I said in an undertone to Chrissie. "Malty not playing?"

"Lucky, I call it," said Chrissie, looking slightly more animated. "And Vela off too, she's their best goal-scorer, I didn't fancy - hey!" she said suddenly, freezing halfway through pulling on her Keeper's gloves and staring at me.

"What?"

"I ... you ... " Chrissie had dropped her voice; she looked both scared and excited. "My drink ... my pumpkin juice ... you didn't ... ?"

I raised my eyebrows, but said nothing except, "We'll be starting in about five minutes, you'd better get your boots on."

We walked out on to the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Badger-Stripes and Raven-Wings had taken sides, too; amidst all the yelling and clapping, I could distinctly hear the roar of Lincoln Lovedream's famous lion-topped hat.

I stepped up to Sir Turner, the referee, who was standing ready to release the balls from the crate.

"Captains, shake hands," he said, and I had my hand crushed by the new Snake-Eyes Captain, Wacello. "Mount your brooms. On my whistle ... three ... two ... one ... "

The whistle sounded, and myself and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and we were away.

I soared around the perimeter of the grounds looking for the Snitch and keeping one eye on Hackett, who was zigzagging far below me. Then a voice that was jarringly different from the usual commentator's started up.

"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Pride-Lander's put together this year. Many thought, given Christina Dawson's patchy performance as Keeper last year, that she might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help ..."

These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Snake-Eyes end of the pitch. I craned round on my broom to look towards the commentator's podium. A tall, skinny girl with an upturned nose was standing there, talking into the magical megaphone that had once been Leah Jones'' I recognised Zhi Smith, a Badger-Stripes player whom I heartily disliked.

"Oh, and here comes Snake-Eyes' first attempt at goal, it's Wacello streaking down the pitch and - "

My stomach turned over.

" - Dawson saves it, well, she's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose ... "

"That's right, Smith, she is," I muttered, grinning to myself, as I dived amongst the Chasers with my eyes searching all around for some hint of the elusive Snitch.

With half an hour of the game gone, Lion-Heart were leading sixty points to zero, Chrissie having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of her gloves, and Chris having scored four of Lion-Heart's six goals. This effectively stopped Zhi wondering loudly whether Chrissie and her adopted brother were only there because I liked them, and she started on Peet and Cartwright instead.

"Of course, Cartwright isn't really the usual build for a Beater," said Zhi loftily, "they've generally got a bit more muscle - "

"Hit a Bludger at her!" I called to Cartwright as I zoomed past, but Cartwright, grinning broadly, chose to aim the next Bludger at Hackett instead, who was just passing me in the opposite direction. I was pleased to hear the dull thunk that meant the Bludger had found its mark.

It seemed as though Lion-Heart could do no wrong. Again and again we scored, and again and again at the other end of the pitch, Chrissie saved goals with apparent ease. She was actually smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favourite Dawson is our Queen, she pretended to conduct them from on high.

"Think she's something special today, doesn't she?" said a snide voice, and I was nearly knocked off my broom as Hackett collided with me hard an deliberately. "Your blood-traitor pal ..."

Sir Turner's back was turned, and though Lion-Hearts below shouted in anger, by the time he looked round Hackett had already sped off. My shoulder aching, I raced after her, determined to ram her back ...

"And I think Hackett of Snake-Eyes' seen the Snitch!" said Zhi Smith through her megaphone. "Yes, she's certainly seen something Pride-Lander hasn't!"

Smith really was an idiot, I thought, hadn't she noticed us collide? But next moment, my stomach seemed to drop out of the sky - Smith was right and I was wrong: Hackett had not sped upwards at random; she had spotted what I had not: the Snitch was speeding along high above us, glinting brightly against the clear blue sky.

I accelerated; the wind was whistling in my ears so that it drowned all the sound of Smith's commentary or the crowd, but Hackett was still ahead of me, and Lion-Heart was only a hundred points up; if Hackett got there first Lion-Heart had lost ... and now Hackett was only feet from it, her hand outstretched ...

"Oi, Hackett!" I yelled in desperation. "How much did Malty pay you to come instead of her?"

I did not know what made me say it, but Hackett did a double take; she fumbled the Snitch, let it slip through her fingers and shot right past it: I made a great swipe for the tiny fluttering ball and caught it.

"YES!" I yelled: wheeling round, I hurtled back towards the ground, the Snitch held high in my hand. As the crowd realised what had happened, a great shout went up that almost drowned the sound of the whistle that signalled the end of the game.

"Chris, where're you going?" I yelled, as I found myself trapped in the midst of a mass mid-air hug with the rest of the team, but Chris sped on right past us until, with an almighty crash, he collided with the commentator's podium. As the crowd shrieked and laughed, myself and the rest of the Lion-Heart team landed beside the wreckage of wood under which Zhi was feebly stirring; I then heard Chris saying blithely to Professor Darbus, "Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry."

Laughing, I broke free from the rest of the team and hugged Chris, but I let go quickly. Avoiding his gaze as a blush started to creep up my cheeks, I hugged a cheering Chrissie instead as, all enmity forgotten, myself and the rest of the Lion-Heart team left the pitch arm in arm, punching the air and waving to our supporters.

The atmosphere in the changing room was jubilant.

"Party up in the common room, Zara said!" yelled Dena exuberantly. "C'mon, Chris, Danny!"

Chrissie and I were the last two in the changing room. We were just about to leave when Sian entered. She was twisting her Lion-Heart scarf in her hand and looked upset but determined.

"I want a word with you, Kiara." She took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Beadu, it's illegal."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Chrissie.

"What are you two talking about?" I asked, turning away to hang up my robes so that neither of them would see me grinning.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!" said Sian shrilly. "You spiked Chrissie's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"

"No, I didn't," I said, turning back to face them both.

"Yes you did, Kiara, and that's why everything went right, there were Snake-Eyes players missing and Chrissie saved everything!"

"I didn't put it in!" I said, now grinning broadly. I slipped my hand inside my jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Sian had seen that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. "I wanted Chrissie to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." I looked at Chrissie. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."

I pocketed the potion again.

"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" Chrissie said, astounded. "But the weather's good ... and Vela couldn't play ... I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?"

I shook my head. Chrissie gaped at me for a moment, then rounded on Sian, imitating her voice.

"You added Felix Felicis to Chrissie's juice this morning and that's why she saved everything! See! I can save everything without your help, Sian!"

"I never said you couldn't - Chrissie, you thought you'd been given it, too!"

But Chrissie had already strode past her out of the door with her broomstick over her shoulder.

"Er," I said into the sudden silence; I had not expected my plan to backfire like this, "shall ... shall we go up to the party, then?"

"You go!" said Sian, blinking back tears. "I'm sick of Chrissie at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done ..."

And she stormed out of the changing room, too.

I walked slowly back up the grounds towards the castle through the crowd, many of them shouting congratulations at me as I passed, but I felt a great sense of let down; I had been sure that if Chrissie won the match, she and Sian would be friends again immediately. I did not see how I could explain to Sian that what she had done to Chrissie was that she had got a boyfriend before her sister, even though no one can force love to happen.

I could not see Sian at the Lion-Heart celebration party, which was in full swing when I arrived. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted my appearance and I was soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating me. What with trying to shake off the McCreevy sisters, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis, and the large group of boys that encircled me, getting a bit too close for comfort and some of them trying to touch me, it was some time before I could try and find Chrissie. At last, I extricated myself from Ronnie Vaughn, who was hinting heavily that he would like to go to Beadu's Christmas party with me. As I was ducking towards the drinks table I walked straight into Chris, Lucifer circling his heels.

"Looking for Chrissie?" he asked, smirking. "She's over there, the filthy hypocrite."

I looked into the corner he was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Chrissie wrapped so closely around Larry Brown it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.

"It looks like she's eating his face, doesn't it?" said Chris dispassionately. "But I suppose she's got to refine her technique somehow. Good game, Kiara."

He patted me on the arm; I felt a tingle all the way down my arm, not to mention the unfamiliar sensation of butterflies fluttering in my stomach, but then he walked off to help himself to more Butterbeer, Lucifer right behind him, and the moment was broken.

I turned away from Chrissie, who did not look like surfacing soon, to see Sian glaring at Chrissie and shaking her head (there's a reason for this, which will be explained in the next chapter, and no, it's not for the reason you think), but then she whipped her head round as a black haired, yellow-skinned boy stormed across the room and left through the portrait hole. Sian remained where she was for a few moments before following him.

I darted forwards, sidestepped Ronnie Vaughn again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lord. The corridor outside seemed to be deserted.

"Sian? Ben?"

I found them in the first unlocked classroom I tried. They were sitting on the teacher's desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling their heads, which Sian had already just conjured out of mid-air, and which Ben, despite his saddened look, was staring at quite wondrously. I also could not help admiring her spellwork at a time like this.

"Oh, hello, Kiara," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practicing."

"Yeah ... they're - er - really good ..." I said.

I had no idea what to say to Ben. I knew that Sian had seen her sister, and was very much against the relationship she and Larry were currently in, but as for Ben, he and I had never really spoken, and just as I was wondering whether there was any chance he had not noticed Chrissie, that he had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, he said, in a gloomy voice, "Chrissie seems to be enjoying the celebrations."

"Er ... does she?" I said.

Sian snorted. Ben said, "Don't pretend you didn't see her. She wasn't exactly hiding it, was - "

The door behind us burst open. To my horror, Chrissie came in, giggling, pulling Larry by the hand.

"Oh," she said, drawing up short at the sight of Sian, Ben and I.

"Oops!" said Larry, and he backed out of the room, chortling. The door swung shut behind him.

There was a horrible swelling, billowing silence. Ben glared down at his feet, whilst Sian glared at Chrissie, who refused to look at either of them, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness, "Hi, Kiara! Wondered where you'd got to!"

Sian and Ben both slid off the desk at the same time. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around both their heads so that they looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.

"You shouldn't leave Larry waiting outside," Sian said quietly. "He'll wonder where you've gone."

She put her arm back around Ben, and they walked together slowly and erectly. I glanced at Chrissie, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.

"Oppugno!" came a shriek from the doorway.

I spun round to see Sian pointing her wand at Chrissie, her expression wild; the little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets towards Chrissie, who yelped and covered her face with her hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.

"Gerremoffme!" she yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Sian wrenched open the door and disappeared through it, pulling Ben with her.