Quidditch Finals

Quidditch Fields – 17th of August

"Perhaps I should become a professional Quidditch player myself – at least for a few years. You know, dear Astoria, fame is a fleeting thing and the career of a Quidditch star is a short one. Later I naturally would work with my father and prepare myself for the only position that's suitable for someone like me: A gentleman and politician."

Draco was walking with Astoria and Daphne a few steps ahead of their parents, behaving like he owned the whole place. While the younger girl hung on his every word, her older sister had a wicked grin plastered on her face and was only waiting for a fit occasion to spoil his moment.

"Aren't gentleman and politician quite the diametric contrast, dear Draco?" She said, uttering the word 'dear' with a sugary sweet voice that was in sharp contrast to her expression.

"Behave," Astoria glared at her before she turned back towards her boyfriend, conspicuous adoration on her face. "I'm dead certain that you would be …"

"A laughing stock," Daphne tried to be helpful, her face now only showing her honest desire to assist.

"Daphne Aurelia Greengrass," her mother's voice told her that she wasn't in overmuch trouble and thus the censuring "behave" prompted her only to bow her head lightly in agreement, not to apologize in any way towards the git she despised.

Roxanne Greengrass, following the teenagers with a very silent Narcissa Malfoy at her side, had to suppress a smile. She had at least to try to enforce a ladylike behavior from her daughter and while little badinages and small insults weren't unusual between members of pureblood families, you had to limit them to the private area. In the open, with hundreds of other wizards and witches around, a unified front was more appropriate. Luckily Cyrus and Lucius kept their distance so far, and were out of hearing range. Otherwise Cyrus would certainly have scolded his daughter – only to impress his 'friend' Lucius with his firm hand. Such a scolding would only have caused an impolite reaction from Daphne and within minutes they would have a full-blown debate at hand with insults flying around like candies at a carnival. And Narcissa seemed quite content to see her son put down a notch or two.

After the engagement of their kids the two women had renewed their loose school time friendship. Both intelligent, talented and well-educated, both in an unwelcome marriage and living a life they wouldn't have chosen, both trying to find a compromise for their children between the future they deserved and the wishes of their fathers.

On most days Roxanne enjoyed the sharp tongue of her daughter. Somehow she saw this trait as a proof of Daphne being a real Pinegrew unlike her younger sister who had been way too much of a Malfoy fan girl – to both father and son – in the past for her mother's taste. But today it was Quidditch time and every Pinegrew woman considered it serious business. Her mother had been a splendid chaser, she had been a – to her regret, not very talented but at least excited – keeper and her daughter could have been a fabulous beater with her keen eye and that killer instinct she showed on the field. But unfortunately Marcus Flint, the current Slytherin team captain, had shown no interest in using the talents of the Slytherin girls and only invited boys to the team, several of them not very talented aside from their fondness for cheating.

The fantasy to build an all-girl-team had been one of the few themes Daphne, Tracey, Pansy and Millicent had been able to be on agreeable terms instead of their normal bitchy behavior among themselves. Roxanne noticed the change in her daughter's posture and for a few moments struggled about intervening or allowing her to say what certainly was on Daphne's lips now. She knew her daughter well enough to predict the direction of her thoughts after some more minutes of Draco blubbering about his prowess as a Seeker. With a very small sigh, which not surprisingly raised a smirk on Narcissa's face, Roxanne decided to lean back – at least for the moment.

"You do know, Draco-honey: professional teams don't allow someone to buy a position like our house team. You have to earn it and show at least a modicum of talent."

Roxanne hastily looked down and bit on her lower lip to suppress a giggle. On Daphne's last birthday there had been a match between the boys and girls. Tracey, Millicent and the Ravenclaw Lisa Turpin had been a stunning Chaser trio despite the dirty tricks of the older Slytherin boys. And while Daphne showed an utter glee about her harassment of Draco with deathly accurate bludgers, Pansy perfected the all-girl-win with an acrobatic fetch of the snitch. Naturally the boys wriggled themselves out of the situation with excuses about 'gentleman-behavior' and 'letting-the-girls-win'. But nobody believed them. That Marcus Flint afterwards still adhered to his no-girl-team-policy came as no surprise.

"You have no idea," Draco growled, ignoring Astoria who tried to soothe him by rubbing his arm. "The world isn't that easy and wonderful. You have to understand the reality and adapt."

"Or you could try to change it."

"Girlish nonsense as could be expected from you," Draco snarled in her direction. This prompted one of the few frowns from Astoria the girl only showed if someone dared to insult her sister. Daphne was a bit weird sometimes in her eyes, but she was still her beloved older sister. Even for Draco there were limits to his allowed behavior. And he was just scratching those limits.

Instead of the furious reproach her mother anticipated Daphne relaxed and smiled. But it was this type of smile that preceded another one of her biting remarks: "If your father has enough money for a few more brooms you could certainly be accepted by the Chudley Canons. They at least would be in your talent league and you could secure their current ranking for years to come."

With a crimson face Draco turned his back to Daphne and ignored her furthermore. Roxanne tried hard to glower at her victorious looking daughter but failed miserably. That Daphne despised the Chudley Canons was no secret to her, even if the reasons were unclear. Yes, it was a clear lack of taste to have orange as the color of choice but that wasn't a reason to hate the team. And that they hadn't been able to do better – being on the last position in the league for years – was more a reason for pity than hate.

.

"Wait," Narcissa whispered as she stopped Roxanne from following their husbands onto the tribune. Lucius Malfoy, being an ardent and first and foremost paying supporter of Minister Fudge had been invited to the Minister's loge. He in turn offered the Greengrass, as the family of his son's fiancée, to watch the game from this exalted place. Roxanne would have liked to avoid the all-too-blond man but had accepted in the end. At least Narcissa would be there and while Mrs. Malfoy – in Roxanne's opinion – was too lenient towards her husband, Roxanne still liked her dry sense of humor.

Cyrus stepped at Lucius' side and relished the moment of attention from Minister Fudge and his Bulgarian colleague. The men had hardly time to introduce their children before they started a new round of speaking about 'very important and manly businesses'.

"Lucius told me to leave after the game," Narcissa started, a concerned expression visible on her beautiful face. "He organized a portkey so we can leave at 1800."

Roxanne got very serious now too, the relaxed humor whisked away she had sensed for the last hour. Nodding she agreed: "It has been the same with Cyrus. Yesterday, after his return from Malfoy Manor, he gave me this ticket and the strict command not to miss the port."

Both women stared at their husband in shared suspicion. "They're up to something," Narcissa commented.

"Certainly they're following some dumb plan from your husband. No offense, Cissy," Roxanne added with a not very honest apology.

"None taken," Narcissa responded, her eyes not leaving Lucius. "Nott, Crabbe and Goyle have been with them, too." Crabbe and Goyle senior, while not as stupid as their sons, had never been the brightest purebloods around and always been single-minded in their servitude to Malfoy.

Roxanne sighed: "I hate to do that but we should follow their wishes – this time. I only hope they're not planning something all too rash or dangerous."

"Perhaps we should hope so," Narcissa tried not very hard to sound humorous. "This way we could be widows tomorrow and start to raise our kids properly."

Roxanne gasped and struggled for words. Thinking about it she knew that in a way Narcissa was right. While she had been able – in agreement with her husband – to raise Daphne mostly as she wanted and was quite content with the result, the same could not be said about Astoria. And Draco certainly could use a firm hand too; otherwise he would end a cruel and spoiled brat – crueler and more spoiled than he was now. But to hope for her husband's death …

"What?" Narcissa asked with a soft smile. "Have you never pondered about poisoning your fabulous husband's brandy? Or wished to excavate your deceased father and strangle him for arranging your marriage to this poor excuse of a man? No offense, Roxy."

"None taken," Roxanne answered with an exhausted sigh. "And to answer your question: Yes, I did. I'm often angry with my father and would love to hand out a scolding or two. But I don't hate him – anymore. He did it with good reason. With 'him' on the rise my father only wanted to protect his family and – rightfully – thought that Cyrus would be able to offer that protection without being too much of a burden to me." Narcissa's look softened and she nodded understandingly as Roxanne continued: "And it wasn't only his fault. I could have said no. I hadn't even the excuse of my parents threatening me with disinheritance. My mother would have never allowed that to happen. But I was eighteen and frightened and after the double murder of the Prewett twins his arguments seemed so reasonable, the dangers of not taking sides too great and 'his' power overwhelming."

"Yes," Narcissa agreed. "Who would have expected to see a baby kill him two years later?"

Cyrus Greengrass, glancing towards his wife whom he missed at his side and wanted to impress with his good connections, paled as he noticed that sweet and dangerous smile on Roxanne's face. He had learned quite early that – while she allowed him to play the head of the house in the pureblood society – it was in his best interest not to push her too hard and allow her some freedom. And just now she looked quite agitated and dangerous to him.

"But sometimes …" Roxanne started after a few minutes of silence.

"How life would be without our precious lords and masters," Narcissa continued with an equally wicked smile. Lucius, following Cyrus eyes to their wives, was a better actor and able to hide his reaction. He shortly nodded towards Narcissa before he turned back to Minister Fudge, showing every one that he was in charge of his family.

"Sometimes a girl is allowed to dream."

.

Just as Roxanne and Narcissa decided to follow their better halves into the loge, a cloud of chatter announced the arrival of another group of spectators. A perceived score of red-heads was nearing, Harry walking towards the stairs wedged between two Weasleys who seemed to be twins, a bushy brown-head Roxanne recognized from the painting in Daphne's room following fast behind.

"Mrs. Malfoy, Mrs. Greengrass," the greetings of Arthur and Molly were more or less polite, but in Molly's case accompanied by an angry glare towards Roxanne. Every single Weasley shot a curious glance towards her, some of them nodding friendly, others – like the sole girl – copying the angry glare of her mother. The last Weasley, the eldest son – with the dragon tooth earring and the long hair looking quite handsome for a Weasley – shortly stopped and bowed slightly with a smile on his face in front of the ladies before he followed his family.

"One minute," Harry told the youngest Weasley brother before he led Hermione towards his godmother. A bit hesitantly he remembered the lessons in House Pinegrew, tried to follow Bill's example and bowed slightly towards Narcissa which prompted a raised eyebrow in her case and an agreeing smile from Roxanne.

"Hello Harry, I hope you enjoy the afternoon so far. And this certainly is the remarkable Miss Granger."

Hermione blushed and nervously glanced towards Narcissa Malfoy. Certainly Draco's mother wouldn't be impressed to have a Mudblood around. "I'll leave you for a moment and have an eye on our little ones," Narcissa declared. While she could have meant their children, Roxanne assumed that Narcissa also spoke about their husbands.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger," Narcissa Malfoy nodded towards the teenagers and while her tone wasn't overly friendly she also didn't show the expected disgust. She even stopped for a moment to look intensely in Hermione's face and there could have been the tiniest of smiles on her lips. But perhaps that was only imagination on Hermione's part.

"Yes, it's fantastic. There is so much to see. Ron bought a Viktor Krum action toy and the twins made a bet about Viktor catching the snitch. I hope they'll win. They could use the money for their joke article shop. I bought three of these" he pointed towards the omniocular he wore around his neck "for Ron, Hermione and me." He stepped aside to allow Roxanne a good look on the girl at his side: "And yes, this is my very best friend Hermione Granger, brightest witch of Hogwarts and the reason I haven't been expelled – so far."

Hermione punched his arm, blushing furiously. Roxanne smiled at the teenagers, thinking about how to progress. She wanted to warn them. A plan of Lucius, containing not only him but Cyrus and those others prats too, could only mean trouble and doubtless trouble for Muggleborn as they were they most favorite slandering theme in those senseless Malfoy-monologues.

"It is good behavior to be generous towards your friends, especially if you have the funds and you regard their pride. You know that not everyone is very good at accepting gifts?" It was hardly a secret that the most distinctive characteristics of the Weasleys were their lack of money and their proudness. After Harry's nod Roxanne continued: "By the way: Should you ever need money, don't hesitate to ask me. I know you'll have enough if you reach the age of seventeen but I assume your inheritance isn't under your full control in the moment."

"No, Hogwarts is paid but apart from that I only have a small monthly allowance. But it has been quite enough so far." In this moment Harry – who rarely thought about money – realized that he had no idea about the amount of money he would inherit coming of age in three years or who was – if anyone – was in charge of the fortune in the meantime. He didn't want to tell her that the small allowance came from Minerva's own pocket, he didn't want her pity.

"Good," Roxanne smiled. "And I heard you already have an excellent broom – a Firebolt, yes? In my opinion a broom is the most important property of a wizard or witch after his wand. Books you can borrow, a place to live you can rent but a respectable wizard has to own the best broom he can afford."

For a moment Harry hesitated, wondering if Roxanne knew that it had been Sirius who bestowed him the Firebolt. As far as he knew Sirius and Roxanne had only a very short conversation. Until his visit she even didn't know the truth behind the events of the last year. This enthusiasm about flying was a new side of her character and a side he liked very much. For a moment he wondered how the other Pinegrew ladies would think about flying.

"That's exactly my thought," he answered with a broad smile, before he turned towards Hermione: "But Hermione doesn't share this opinion. She doesn't like flying in the least. She even made her exam in the first year with a written assignment instead of a flying test."

Roxanne gaped at the girl: "Really?"

Hermione studied the ground very intensely, her ears blushing, the theme of her disgust about flying not very pleasant to her, and nodded slightly.

"I see," Roxanne addressed Harry again, allowing the girl to relax. "So Hermione is your best friend. And she has been helping you with your school work so far. Am I correct?" Harry nodded. "Then you certainly know your duty for the next months, Harry?"

A bit confused Harry stared back before his face lightened: "Show her how to fly?" Hermione tensed and Harry noticed that Roxanne didn't nod. So what could she expect from him? He grinned: "Show Hermione the error of her ways and get her to love flying? Show her the beauty of flying?" Weird – how often had he thought about means to return the favor, to do something for Hermione like she had for him. The point of flying had never crossed his mind.

This time Roxanne nodded. "Perhaps you can invite her to Pinegrew Manor for a few days. I'm sure Agatha would love to help you with 'your duty'. If you'd like that, Hermione?"

Hermione wasn't so certain about her excitement to fly and the question was still open if Harry would go back to Pinegrew Manor after this week anyway. But she had hoped to get to know this woman and her family who could be very important for Harry's future. And Lady Greengrass seemed to be nice enough. A bit hesitantly she answered: "I would love to."

As they ascended to the loge a few minutes later Roxanne had still not been able to speak about the dangers of staying the night at the Quidditch fields.

.

In the loge Lucius Malfoy apparently had started something he called 'polite insulting'. It consisted of compliments that were formulated and worded in a way to be offending but left room for the excuse of being a simple misunderstanding. He targeted Arthur Weasley and had help from a far less talented Cyrus. While Arthur resisted the temptation and stayed calm, the face of Molly Weasley was beet red with anger.

A few steps away Draco and Daphne were in a glaring contest with Ron and Ginny. Percy tried to distract the Minister from the 'childish behavior' of his younger siblings, Bill and Charlie ignored everybody and concentrated on the Quidditch Field below and the twins watched the spectacle with open amusement.

"I should have known that your family of blood traitors would find a way to spoil this afternoon with that disgusting smell of yours. Others would hope that you'd find at least this once the energy to wash and dress somewhat acceptable. Oh, pardon – you don't have something acceptable in your locker," Draco sniggered.

To see Daphne siding with Draco and even ignoring those remarks which normally would cause her to hex the boy was a great surprise to Roxanne. Her daughter death-glared at Ron and he reciprocated the expression without answering directly to his nemesis Draco.

"Obviously we aren't disgusting enough not to start ogling us," Ron responded with an ugly smirk. Startled Roxanne noticed the small blush on her daughter's cheeks and the hasty glance she send towards one of the twins.

"What do you mean," Draco asked, oblivious to Daphne's reaction.

Ginny on the other side broke a wicked grin: "Seems the ice princess has still a hopeless crush on one of the blood traitors."

"What?" Draco grabbed Daphne's arm and turned her around. "Tell me that they're wrong. You can't have feelings for one of these …" Draco made a distracted gesture, struggling for an appropriate description.

Daphne broke free from Draco's grip and spitted into the faces of Ginny and Ron who seemed quite content with the progress of the discussion: "Shut up! You made it quite clear last year how you're thinking about … mingling with snakes." Without waiting for a response – her open anger and frustration prompting Ginny to practically beam with joy – Daphne left the group and walked away to her sister. Draco – confused by that news – followed a few seconds later.

Ron gave Ginny a high-five and watched the Slytherins walk away beaten – at least until the iron hands of the twins grabbed their necks and pulled them towards the edge of the loge.

"What was this about?" George's angry glare started to trouble his younger siblings but apparently they still hoped to get the twins' approval.

Very smug Ginny started to explain: "You remember how Daphne had been a recurrent customer to you and your joke articles last year? The reason hadn't been her interest in the articles but" She made a small pause, her grin broadening again: "But her interest in Fred." Ginny pointed towards her brother and both twins looked up only to see Daphne watch them and hastily avert their eyes with pink ear tips.

"The snake had a crush on you," Ron endorsed. "Naturally we told her that you aren't interested in her and that she should get lost." Apparently he expected to get praise from his brother.

A few steps away Harry was listening. As he tried to move forward Hermione stopped him and shook her head slightly. "Allow them to clarify this among themselves," she whispered. After a moment he nodded and relaxed again. At least he now knew another reason for Daphne's aversion. To have a crush on somebody and be turned away – and knowing Ron and Ginny and their hate towards Slytherins it had certainly not been in a polite way – was certainly not a very pleasant experience. Perhaps Daphne assumed that Harry would share Ron's feelings about Slytherins and 'mingling with snakes'. It was wrong, but she couldn't know this. That he felt a knot in his stomach thinking about Daphne's crush on Fred, was a weird feeling.

"Are you crazy?" Fred bellowed. He repeated a lot quieter: "Are you crazy? She is intelligent, beautiful and has a wicked sense of humor, certainly not the worst features for a girlfriend. Yes, I have no interest in her but the reason is Angelina Johnson, not the fact that the ice princess belongs to Slytherin."

"Whom we date and whom we chuck out," George added, "would be our decision and our decision alone."

Fred scolded very angry: "It is completely wrong to hurt somebody like this." Whispering low enough that Harry was unable to understand it Fred continued: "How would you feel should someone tell you to get lost and not to harass Harry anymore? That he would never have any interest in you?"

Ginny's face paled and she fought with her tears, but she still struggled, trying hard not to look overly in Harry's direction: "This is different. She is a snake. You can't date her."

"If this is your opinion," George rebuked his little sister, "than you're no better than Draco."

.

The mood was quite beaten afterwards. Daphne stayed silent and ignored Draco's glaring. The twins had made sure that their seats were as much apart from their younger siblings as possible. Unbeknownst to Ron and Ginny one reason of the twins' mood was their disappointment about not being able to prank the Slytherins. After hearing about Harry's 'new family' they had decided the evening before to prank the Greengrass girls and assess their reaction. Poor reaction = poor family, in their opinion. Only someone able to endure their pranks with good humor would be appropriate company. But with this death-glare contest between all participants they had to delay their little plan, delay but not forget.

"I knew it," Roxanne mumbled with a low voice "I should have stayed away from the loge."

Only Lucius, Cyrus and the Minister seemed to have a good time and commented the game with much enthusiasm and a very small amount of expertise. For the most of guests in the loge it was a relief when Viktor Krum caught the snitch and ended the game. After a quiet exchange with Cyrus Roxanne ushered her girls towards the exit. They would have another hour for shopping memorabilia before it was time for the portkey. But she still had something to do.

"Have a nice week," Harry looked up and gave Roxanne a smile. Surprised by her action he allowed her to hug him, feeling that she put something in his pocket before she turned away. It seemed to be a piece of paper but Harry decided to wait a while before he had a look at it. With most of the Weasleys grumbling about someone – the twins and Ginny about each other, the parents about Malfoy and Percy about his family – he was able to read the note a few minutes later.

Be careful. And watch out for Ms. Granger.

There could be some fools running rampant tonight, planning troubles for any Muggleborn.

Slightly pale he showed Hermione the note, but hastily put it away when Ron noticed something and neared. "Was a great game, Ron, wasn't it?" His mind focused on the weird message, Harry tried his best to distract his mate and show a happy face. What could happen tonight? That much was clear: He wouldn't leave Hermione's side for a single minute. And he certainly had some questions to ask next week.