The news of Buckbeak's imminent execution sent waves of disappointment through the already weary staff. Even Severus, who had initially supported Malfoy's case, could be found consoling Hagrid over a flagon of ale or helping Hermione as she worked towards the appeal. Evidently he felt that the death penalty was somewhat unwarranted.
Amelia's mood was greatly improved by Hermione's renewed friendship with the boys. The shock of the board's decision appeared to have healed the wounds in their relationship and Amelia or Remus would often find the three of them working on the appeal in the Library, late into the night.
Ron had taken over responsibility for the 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.
Her concern for the newly fledged friendship between Severus and Remus had apparently been unfounded, though she was still slightly appalled by her lover's ability to lie. He had spent his life in hiding, she supposed, but still.
Severus was touched that Remus had chosen to reveal the map to him – although the werewolf had assured him that Harry would have had no idea how to read it and still believed that it was an insulting parchment. He also, truthfully, assured his new friend that he'd still thought it was locked in Filch's filing cabinets until the moment he saw it and had told Severus the story of how it had eventually been captured at the end of their seventh year.
Severus agreed not to tell anyone about the map, and to take a shift watching for Black every so often.
The weather, for the first time in months, was finally beginning to improve, which further proved to lighten her mood. There were tight green buds on the trees outside the castle and in the tiny garden on her windowsill, furled and full of promise. Amelia could feel the growing world begin to breathe again and it refreshed her.
0o0o0o0
Hermione appeared out of the blue one evening, upset and excitable.
"I missed Charms," she blurted out, before she'd even sat down.
Remus was out with Poppy, Filius and Professor Dockrill (a somewhat worrying prospect, given her colleagues' sense of humour and talk of a Viking drinking game), so she'd looked forward to a quiet evening, mostly involving tea, chocolate and a good book. Apparently this was not to be.
"I fell asleep," Hermione said.
Amelia frowned; her cousin seemed constantly exhausted these days.
"Well that's not so bad, I'm sure Filius will understand," she began, reasonably.
"I've already seen him. He was very kind about it, but he said I'd missed Cheering Charms, and that they might come up in the exam."
"I'll give you a hand with that if you'd like," Amelia offered. Hermione looked grateful.
"Thanks Mel. That's not all I'm worried about though."
"Oh?"
"I dropped Divination today."
Amelia gave her cousin a long look.
"How exactly did you break the news to Sybill?" she asked, carefully.
"Erm…" Hermione looked uncomfortable, so Amelia attempted her stern look. Her cousin winced and continued, "well, we moved on from palmistry to crystal balls. It's like staring into fog – yet another pointless exercise I might add."
Amelia nodded, "It seems some people have the sight and others don't… I'm not wholly certain which side of that division Sybill falls on," she added. Hermione smirked.
"Ron found it all very funny, and Harry wasn't helping either. I kept thinking – I could be catching up with Cheering Charms. Then Professor Trelawny offered to help…" Hermione trailed off and bit her lip.
"… And?"
"… and Ron said he didn't need any help as it was obvious that it meant there was going to be a lot of fog tonight."
Amelia snorted.
"Me and Harry burst out laughing, so she came over saying we were 'disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations'" she trilled, in a passable impression of the hapless seer. "Or some such rot, and of course she started in about Harry and the Grim again, and I… I lost my temper."
Amelia, having been on the receiving end of Hermione's fierce temper before, gave her a hard look.
"What did you say to her?"
"Only that the Grim was ridiculous – she is a teacher, after all."
Amelia relaxed, saving Hermione's reputation as a goody-two-shoes wouldn't be as difficult as she'd feared.
"Then she said I'd never be able to succeed in Divination as I was so very 'Mundane'."
Amelia tutted; trust Sybill to let her anger get the better of her.
"Needless to say I was upset, not that it's that big a deal – I hate Divination – so I stormed out. And I'm not going back!" The young witch added, with defiance.
Amelia waved her off.
"I wasn't suggesting you did. You will have to speak with Minerva about it though."
Hermione looked dismayed.
"But I was so rude!"
"True, but Minerva's no great fan of Sybill either. I'll go with you if you like."
"Thanks Mel!" Hermione said, with feeling. "I was just so worked up about work, and Hagrid's appeal, and Malfoy, and missing class that I just snapped."
"Malfoy?"
Hermione didn't quite meet her cousin's eyes.
"Um…"
Amelia sighed.
"Alright, tell me cousin to cousin. The teacher in me will go for a proverbial cup of tea."
Hermione looked at her, as if weighing up the pros and cons of discussing the morning's events.
"It was after Care of Magical Creatures," she began, slowly. "Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were taking the piss out of Hagrid because he was upset, so…"
"So…?"
"So… I hit him. Hard. Ron tried to stop me –"
"Brave lad."
"But I was too angry, so I pulled out my wand and they ran off."
Amelia was unable to stop the smirk that was spreading across her features.
"I'd have hit the little bastard too. You shouldn't have tried to hex him though – not that you could have done anything permanent – but you'd have been in so much trouble. Foolish, young grasshopper," she said, pulling her cousin into a hug. "Now, Cheering Charms…"
0o0o0o0
"She punched him?"
"Really hard."
"Wow. Go Hermione!"
Amelia and Remus were wandering the halls that night, taking their turn to patrol along with Pomona.
"It's about time someone taught that little oik some manners," the older witch said, bracingly. "I heard about her performance in Divination, too – I suppose she's alright? That much work would make anyone crack."
Remus nodded, recalling his own obsession with schoolwork.
"I think she'll be ok," said Amelia. "I think her patience is wearing a little thin these days is all."
"And she's got the boys back," added Remus.
"Yes," said Pomona. "Coping with things is ever so much easier when you're not alone."
Privately, Amelia reflected that the last few years would have been nearly impossible without her cousin.
Remus glanced at his lover; he knew that he could manage alone – it was all he'd done for the past twelve years – but this odd, fiery young woman seemed to chase the darkness away. Glancing up at him, Amelia smiled and his heart sang.
No matter what else happened this year, letting Dumbledore talk him into teaching here was the best idea he'd ever had.
0o0o0o0
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 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.
It seemed to Remus that Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole of Gryffindor house took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry to get to classes on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. He also appeared to be much more concerned for his Firebolt's safety than his own. When he wasn't flying it, he locked it securely in his trunk, and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break-times to check that it was still there.
As usual, Amelia, Remus and Severus walked down to the pitch together, looking for all the world that the electricity of the match wasn't preventing a certain level of professionalism amongst the staff. They knew differently, however: although Quidditch wasn't really their thing, Severus and Minerva had almost come to blows a few evenings previous over whose was the better team.
The other teachers of course were maintaining outwardly neutral, but no-one wanted to see Slytherin win again. Pomona was once again keeping book and there had been a flurry of visits to and from the Greenhouses in the past week; dinner conversations often seemed to turn to odds at the top table.
On the day itself Remus dug out his old school scarf (in Gryffindor colours of course) and Amelia had proudly produced a freshly knitted version herself. It came as no surprise that Snape had also found his school scarf; as they walked down to the pitch amongst the chattering throng of students, they felt suddenly that they were a part of it once more. When they settled in the stands, Amelia was astonished to encounter a prickle of house pride. They booed and cheered along with the rest as the teams came out onto the pitch to a tidal wave of noise.
0o0
Three quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them or brandishing banners with slogans such as 'GO GRYFFINDOR!' and 'LIONS FOR THE CUP!'. Behind the Slytherin goalposts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittering on their flags.
Harry scanned the staff box; Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like his housemates, and a very grim smile. Sat beside him, much to Harry's amusement were Professor Lupin and Hermione's cousin, both cheerfully sporting red and gold scarves and beaming down at him.
"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 side 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, lead by captain Flint. He's made some changes in the line-up and seems to be going for size rather than skill –"
More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Amelia, 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 hands 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. They watched Harry speed off immediately in search of the Snitch, Malfoy hot on his tail.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Alicia! Argh no – Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the pitch – 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 round Montague – duck Angelina, that's a Bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Angelina punched the air as she soared round the end of the pitch; 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!"
Behind her, Amelia heard Filius squeaking obscenities at the Slytherin captain, and she realised that Remus was growling, very gently, under his breath; she stood on his foot.
Next moment, Fred Weasley had chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed in into the handle of his broom and began to bleed. Amelia hissed her displeasure, Gryffindor or not.
"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them. Penalty for Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty 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!"
All eyes were on Flint as he, still bleeding freely, flew forwards 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!"
"Gryffindor in possession, no Slytherin in position – no! – Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the pitch – 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.
Amelia realised that she had her fingers in her mouth and quickly removed them as 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 Keeper.
"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!"
Amelia couldn't help agreeing with him.
Suddenly, Harry pulled around and shot towards the Slytherin end, Malfoy hot on his tail once more – out of nowhere, two Bludgers streaked past him – it looked like the two Beaters for the Slytherin team, Derrick and Bole, were going to take him out simply by crashing into him and whacking him until he fell out of the sky. At the last second, Harry shot upwards at high speed, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.
Amelia was suddenly on her feet and punching the air. "That'll learn you, you scummy bastards!" she shouted, her words lost by the roar of the crowd, most of which agreed with her.
"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan, as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from one another, 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 towards the Gryffindor goalposts, come on, now, Wood, save -!"
But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, Snape was on his feet 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 match Amelia had ever seen – including several of her Uncle's rugby union matches. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherin 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.
Lupin, Snape and Amelia had taken their seats again, just in time to watch Katie score – fifty-ten to Gryffindor. Fred and George were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred 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.
Amelia wondered aloud whether it should be possible to send off people who were acting like shits.
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 were screaming themselves hoarse – Gryffindor were sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Almost all eyes were on Harry now – including those of the Slytherins, though they were glaring – and he was still soaring high above the game with Malfoy trailing behind him.
He must have seen it, because suddenly he shot upwards – but Malfoy grabbed the end of his broom and held on, dragging him down.
"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two-Thousand and One.
"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY CHEATING BASTARDS!"
Minerva didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her fist in Malfoy's direction; her hat had fallen off, and she, too, was shouting furiously.
Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry that she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team were losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.
"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal – Montague scores –" Lee groaned into the megaphone. "Seventy – twenty to Gryffindor…"
Harry was now marking Malfoy so closely that they looked like one player from the stands.
"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on Angelina, COME ON!"
Suddenly, every Slytherin player apart from Malfoy, even the Keeper, was streaking down the pitch towards her – if they all hit her at once they were going to kill her – even Snape was on his feet beside his friends screaming for them to stop – when out of nowhere Harry shot through them and scattered the players, saving Angelina from a painful block.
Snape grabbed Amelia's arm and pointed, at the other end of the pitch Malfoy was streaking triumphantly down towards the Snitch – Harry turned to follow him – he was gaining on Malfoy… Harry flattened himself against his broom as Bole hit a Bludger at him… he was at Malfoy's ankles… he was level –
Harry took both hands off his broom as the boys fought to reach forwards –
Around her the stadium exploded as he pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air! They'd done it! After ten years, Gryffindor had taken the Cup from Slytherin! She was vaguely aware of Snape beside her with his head in his hands as Remus grabbed her and kissed her, looking wild and shocking them both. Behind her Filius and Poppy were doing a weird kind of victory dance while Pomona and Professor Dockrill high-fived and roared their approval.
The Gryffindor team were streaking towards Harry and together they descended, a tangled mass of red and gold. Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the pitch to meet them. Hagrid was below them, plastered with crimson rosettes – Percy Weasley was jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Minerva was sobbing harder than Wood, wiping her eyes on a massive scarlet flag – Severus, still looking crushed, was shaking her hand before she pulled him into an unexpected hug. Amelia saw Ron and Hermione in the crowd, beaming at Harry and simply shaking their heads in happiness.
When the team got to the stands, where Dumbledore was waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup, they looked as if they would burst with happiness. Remus still had a tight hold of her, and she laughed along with him, only the tiniest prickle of sadness present in her lover's mind.
For the first time, she heard another's thoughts – and wholeheartedly agreed with them – as Harry raised the Cup, happy as he was, Remus thought: James should have been here.