Chapter 34: Tara
October 9, 2002
Buffy left Willow in her suite and went to Dumbledore's office with a smile on her face.
"Buffy," he said. "I take it from the smile that everything went all right?"
"It did," Buffy said. "The glamour is gone and she looks like herself again."
"May I ask, do you know how it happened?"
"Willow saw me sitting looking out the window last night. Harry and Dawn's scars hurt yesterday. I was thinking and worrying about them," Buffy admitted. "Willow knew of course how I felt about her. And she thought by giving me what I wanted that she could make things better or maybe distract me. I don't know. But after sleeping with me. She woke up with the glamour already in place. Then just a little bit ago she realized herself what was going on as she started to finally grieve. I also think she is also finally ready to love again."
"Then your task is done," Dumbledore said.
"I want to give it some time," Buffy said. "But I think it may be."
At half-past seven that evening Dawn, Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the Gryffindor common room. They met Buffy and Willow on the way.
Dawn was the first to notice that her sister and Willow were holding hands. "Does this mean?" she asked.
"Yes," Buffy said. "Willow finally has started the process. It's going to take time but she's ready. So where are we heading?"
"Room of Requirement," Harry said. "We spread the word around to everyone to meet us at eight o'clock."
They made their way up to the seventh floor.
"Hold it," said Harry warningly, unfolding the piece of parchment at the top of the last staircase, tapping it with his wand, and muttering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
A map of Hogwarts appeared upon the blank surface of the parchment.
Tiny black moving dots, labeled with names, showed where various people were.
"Filch is on the second floor," said Harry, holding the map close to his eyes and scanning it closely, "and Mrs. Norris is on the fourth."
"And Umbridge?" said Hermione anxiously.
"In her office," said Harry, pointing. "Okay, let's go."
They hurried along the corridor to the place Dobby had described to Harry, a stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet.
"Okay," said Harry quietly, while a moth-eaten troll paused in his relentless clubbing of the would-be ballet teacher to watch. "Dobby said to walk past this bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what we need."
They did so, turning sharply at the window just beyond the blank stretch of wall, then at the man-size vase on its other side.
"Harry," said Dawn sharply, as they wheeled around after their third walk past.
A highly polished door had appeared in the wall. Harry reached out, seized the brass handle, pulled open the door, and led the way into a spacious room lit with flickering torches like those that illuminated the dungeons eight floors below.
The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors.
"These will be good when we're practicing Stunning," said Ron enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with his foot.
"And just look at these books!" said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. "A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions… The Dark Arts Outsmarted… Self-Defensive Spellwork… wow… This is wonderful, there's everything we need here!"
And without further ado she slid Jinxes for the Jinxed from its shelf, sank onto the nearest cushion, and began to read.
There was a gentle knock on the door. Harry looked around; Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Dean had arrived.
"Whoa," said Dean, staring around, impressed. "What is this place?"
Harry began to explain, but before he had finished more people had arrived, and he had to start all over again. By the time eight o'clock arrived, every cushion was occupied. Harry moved across to the door and turned the key protruding from the lock; it clicked in a satisfyingly loud way and everybody fell silent. Hermione carefully marked her page of Jinxes for the Jinxed and set the book aside.
"Well," said Buffy. "This is the place we've found for practices, and you found it okay—"
"It's fantastic!" said Cho, and several people murmured their agreement.
"It's bizarre," said Fred, frowning around at it. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then…"
"Hey, Professor, what's this stuff?" asked Dean from the rear of the room, indicating the Sneakoscopes and the Foe-Glass.
"Uhm, Harry?" Buffy said. She had actually been wondering that herself since she had only seen one before and had been in Harry's trunk.
"Dark Detectors," said Harry, stepping between the cushions to reach them. "Basically, they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled…"
"Alright," Buffy said. "Since I had to cancel my lessons for personal reasons today. I took some time with Willow and we have worked out some lessons." She noticed a raised hand. "Yes, Hermione?"
"I think we ought to have a name," Hermione said brightly, her hand still in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"
"Good point," Buffy said. "After all teams and clubs in both the wizarding and muggle words do have names. Any suggestions?"
"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully.
"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.
"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."
"The Defense Association?" said Cho. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"
"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"
"It is," Buffy said. "Okay let's have a vote. All in favor of the D.A.?" She saw Hermione kneeling up on her cushion to count.
"That's a majority, Buffy—motion passed!"
"Alright then," Buffy said as Hermione pinned the parchment with the names of everyone on the wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY across the top in large letters.
"Now," Buffy said. "We're going to alternate. One day we will do wizarding spells, the next muggle self-defense such as learning to use a sword or a knife or just simple hand to hand. Then the next will be wiccan spells, which is where Willow and Dawn will come in. Willow will explain and Dawn will demonstrate those. Now we'll start with something easy. Expelliarmus, I know some of you may think it's not going to help you with say Voldemort. But anything that gives you the chance to defend yourself and run away is better than nothing. Now if everyone will divide into pairs we'll start."
Everybody got to their feet at once and divided up.
Predictably, Neville was left partnerless.
"You can practice with me," Buffy told him. "Now—on the count of three, then—one, two, three—"
The room was suddenly full of shouts of "Expelliarmus!": Wands flew in all directions, missed spells hit books on shelves and sent them flying into the air. Buffy could have easily dodged Neville's spell but she had decided it would be better for him to actually see that he could disarm someone.
"You didn't try," Neville whispered.
"No, I didn't," Buffy said as she used a summoning charm and retrieved her wand. "I'm letting you get in some practice. I could have disarmed you faster than you could blink. Remember I'm a Slayer. That would have been unfair to you."
Glancing around she thought she had been right to suggest that they practice the basics first; there was a lot of shoddy spellwork going on; many people were not succeeding in disarming their opponents at all, but merely causing them to jump backward a few paces or wince as the feeble spell whooshed over them.
"Expelliarmus!" said Neville, and for the second time Buffy's wand flew out of her hand.
"You're doing good, Neville," Buffy said encouragingly.
Neville smiled gleefully. "Thanks, Professor."
"Neville, why don't you take turns to practice with Dawn and Ginny for a couple of minutes so I can walk around and see how the rest are doing?"
Neville nodded as she moved off into the middle of the room.
Buffy frowned when she saw something very odd was happening to Zacharias Smith; every time he opened his mouth to disarm Anthony Goldstein, his own wand would fly out of his hand, yet Anthony did not seem to be making a sound.
Buffy looked around and saw Fred and George were several feet from Smith and taking it in turns to point their wands at his back.
"Fred, George," Buffy said with a shake of her head.
"Sorry, Buffy," said George hastily. "Couldn't resist…"
Buffy walked around the other pairs, trying to correct those who were doing the spell wrong. Ernie Macmillan was flourishing his wand unnecessarily, giving his partner time to get in under his guard; the Creevey brothers were enthusiastic but erratic and mainly responsible for all the books leaping off the shelves around them. Luna Lovegood was similarly patchy, occasionally sending Justin Finch-Fletchley's wand spinning out of his hand, at other times merely causing his hair to stand on end.
Buffy saw that Willow had paired with Harry and was letting him disarm her. She could tell her girlfriend was still somewhat afraid of using too much magic. Especially after what had happened earlier that day.
"Okay, stop!" Buffy said as she let out a loud whistle to get everyone's attention. "It's not a bad start so far. Harry why don't you practice with Neville. I'll practice with Willow."
Harry looked at his sister and then nodded in understanding at the unspoken reason Buffy was switching partners.
"Okay," Buffy said. "Go again." She turned toward Willow. "You too, Will. I know how you feel about using magic right now, but if you want to move past that fear you have to start trusting yourself with it."
Willow let out a sigh and nodded. "Expelliarmious! I mean, Expellimellius! I—oh, sorry, Buffy!"
Buffy's sleeve had caught fire; she extinguished it with her own wand. "It's okay, Willow. Pronunciation is key here. Say it with me. Expelliarmus."
"Expelliarmus," Willow echoed.
"Good," Buffy said. "Again."
"Expelliarmus!" Willow shouted and this time Buffy's wand went flying. She smiled at her friend.
"That's good, Will," Buffy said as she retrieved her wand.
"Hey, Buffy," Hermione called from the other end of the room, "have you checked the time?"
Buffy frowned and looked down at her watch—it was already ten past nine, which meant the students needed to get back to their common rooms immediately or risk being caught and punished by Filch for being out-of-bounds.
Buffy whistled to get everyone's attention and they all stopped shouting, "Expelliarmus!"
"You all did good today," said Buffy. "But I forgot to check my watch. We're a few minutes past our time. I will see you all here, same time, next week."
"Sooner!" said Dean Thomas eagerly and many people nodded in agreement.
"First of all, there is other things that take up some of that time," Buffy said. "Such as Quidditch. And those of you on the Quidditch teams do need to practice. So, it can't be sooner, I apologize. So, we're going to stick to one day a week. So, we'll meet on Wednesdays. Next week will be self-defense. We'll start with a sword. Harry can you make sure everyone gets out of here safely."
Harry nodded as he pulled out the Marauder's Map again and checked it carefully for signs of teachers on the seventh floor. He let them all leave in threes and fours, watching their tiny dots anxiously to see that they returned safely to their dormitories: the Hufflepuffs to the basement corridor that also led to the kitchens, the Ravenclaws to a tower on the west side of the castle, and the Gryffindors along the corridor to the seventh floor and the Fat Lady's portrait.
"That was really, really good, Buffy," said Hermione, when finally, it was just her, Dawn, Ginny, Willow, Buffy, Harry, and Ron left.
"Yeah, it was!" said Ron enthusiastically.
"Good night," Buffy said. "Willow and I will be staying behind. I'm going to practice some more with her."
Ginny, Dawn, Harry, Ron and Hermione all nodded in understanding as they exited out into the corridor.
"Now, Will," Buffy said as she turned back toward her friend. She leaned in and kissed the redhead. "You did good."
"I'm still not sure about this, Buffy," Willow said. "I'm not talking about being in love with you. That I am sure about, finally and completely sure about. But the magic, that I'm not."
"I know," Buffy admitted. "That's why I had Harry switch partners. One more time."
Willow looked at Buffy and hesitantly. She raised her wand and pointed it at Buffy. "Expelliarmus!" She watched as her friend's wand went flying.
"Good," Buffy said as she retrieved her wand. "Bed time."
"My favorite," Willow said as Buffy blushed. "Come here, baby."
Buffy and Willow walked out of the Room of Requirement and headed back to the suite holding each other's hand.
October 12, 2002
The rest of the week after the Dumbledore's Army lesson had gone by quick and as soon as Saturday arrived Buffy, Willow and Dawn portaled to Sunnydale. Buffy and Willow had left Dawn with Xander while they went to the cemetery. They walked among the headstones, talking about where their newfound relationship might take them.
As they approached the grave, they had been heading for Buffy hung back. She knew Willow had to do this on her own.
Willow made her way to Tara's grave. She put stones on the headstone, mindful of her Jewish heritage, and said, "Hey. It's me."
Wistfully she traced the lettering:
Tara Maclay
Oct. 16, 1980—July 4, 2002
"Can You Just Be Kissing Me Now?" (A/N)
"Yes, that's Buffy. She thought it would be a good idea that I do this by myself," Willow said as she knelt down next to the grave. "I miss you, Tara. I lost myself for a bit, but I've slowly been rediscovering myself. Buffy's been helping with that. I'm in love with her, Tara. But I'm also still in I love with you, that will never change. You know I feel so blessed to have been loved by not one but two of the most beautiful women I have ever known. Don't get me wrong, no one will ever replace you, Tara. But with Buffy's help I've learned I can love again and I know that's what you would want. You wouldn't want me pining for you for the rest of my life. I know that you would want me to find love again and I think I have finally with Buffy."
"I'm happy for you, Willow."
Buffy and Willow looked around startled at the voice. They saw Tara floating not far away.
"T-Tara?" Willow stuttered as she could clearly see that Tara was a ghost.
"I came to say goodbye, Will. I'm happy that you are moving on that you not pining for me. I was let down so that I could give you a gift."
Tara floated over to Willow and placed a ghostly hand on Willow's shoulder.
As Buffy watched she saw that Willow's hair and eyes went white.
Tara floated away a moment later as Willow smiled at her. "Thank you, Tara," she said.
"Take good care of our girl, Buffy."
"I will," Buffy said as Tara faded from view. She walked over to Willow and pulled the redhead up. "What did she do?"
"Showed me our future," Willow said.
October 19, 2002
The following Saturday after their trip to Sunnydale Buffy tore through her closet for something to wear. She had asked Willow to go on a date with her at the Three Broomsticks pub in Hogsmeade. She had even got special permission from Dumbledore since Willow was still officially a student for Willow to leave the castle on a non-Hogsmeade weekend.
"Too dressy." Buffy said, tossing the red slip dress to the side. "Hmm, screams, "I'm a slut."" She frowned as she threw the black leather skirt on the bed. "Short, sweet, nah, not sexy enough." Buffy continued to pull outfit after outfit out the closet before deciding on a simple black short-sleeved dress. She pulled the dress on over her head and shimmied into it before pulling on her trademark knee-high black boots and fluffing her hair a bit. She chose a nice shade of lipstick, a perfect kissing color.
Willow sat at the pub, silently waiting for Buffy.
"Sorry." Buffy said as she approached the table. "Unscheduled counseling session. A third-year student wanted dating advice."
"That's alright," Willow said staring into Buffy's eyes. "You look beautiful."
"You too." Buffy smiled.
Willow smiled.
"Madam Rosmerta," Buffy said as Madam Rosmerta came over to their table. "What do you recommend for a first date?"
"I know just the thing," Madam Rosmerta said as she hurried off.
Buffy's tension and nerves dissolved as the night went on. Nervous giggling turned into outright laughter as she and Willow talked. As they left the pub, Willow took her hand.
"How about I walk you home," Willow said as she kissed Buffy's hand softly.
"Okay." Buffy melted.
Willow and Buffy enjoyed the walk back to and through the castle to their suite. Once inside the sitting room Willow turned on Buffy and smiled.
"I had a great time," Willow said.
"Me too." Buffy said softly and she leaned in and gently kissed Willow.
November 2, 2002
As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, the Dumbledore's Army lessons were put on hold because Angelina insisted on almost daily practices.
During one practice, Dawn had been told to take Ron's place to practice being Keeper. She had hung one-handed from her broom and kicked the Quaffle so hard away from the goal hoop that it soared the length of the pitch and through the center hoop at the other end.
After that Dawn began to worry. She had rushed to Buffy after the practice and asked what it felt like to be the Slayer. Buffy had wondered why Dawn was asking and had been filled in on the kick.
Buffy had looked at her sister for a long few moment wondering if Faith's near death at the hospital earlier in the summer might have triggered a new Slayer being called and if it had she wondered if that new Slayer was Dawn.
October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly gray, the mountains around Hogwarts became snowcapped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons.
The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. When Hermione awoke, she looked around at Dawn's bed and saw her sitting bolt upright, her arms around her knees, staring fixedly into space.
"Dawn?" Hermione said as she got out of bed. That was when she saw it, Dawn was glowing. She rushed over to her friend and tried to calm Dawn down. When the glow finally disappeared, she asked. "Nervous?"
"A little," Dawn said. "I know I'm not likely playing today. But at the same time, I'm like what if I am. Can I do it?"
"Of course, you can, Dawn," Hermione answered.
When Hermione and Dawn reached the Great Hall, they found it was filling up fast, the talk louder and the mood more exuberant than usual. They joined their friends, Buffy and Willow at the Gryffindor table.
"I must've been mental to do this," Ron said in a croaky whisper. "Mental."
"Don't be thick," said Harry firmly, passing him a choice of cereals. "You're going to be fine. It's normal to be nervous."
Hermione leaned over to Harry and whispered in his ear. He looked toward his sister and then nodded.
"I'm rubbish," croaked Ron. "Dawn's better than I am, you saw how she saved that quaffle. I can't play to save my life. What was I thinking?"
"Ron," Willow said as she smiled at the redheaded boy. "You will do great."
"Willow's right," Buffy agreed. "You have nothing to worry about."
"Hello," said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. Luna Lovegood had drifted over from the Ravenclaw table. "I'm supporting Gryffindor." She pointed unnecessarily at her hat. "Look what it does…" She reached up and tapped the hat with her wand. It opened its mouth wide and gave an extremely realistic roar that made everyone in the vicinity jump.
"It's good, isn't it?" said Luna happily. "I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway… good luck, Ronald!" She drifted away.
They had not quite recovered from the shock of Luna's hat before Angelina came hurrying toward them, accompanied by Katie and Alicia. "When you're ready," she said, "we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions and change."
"We'll be there in a bit," Harry assured her. "Ron's just got to have some breakfast."
"Who's playing?" Dawn asked.
"Sorry, Dawn," Angelina said knowing Dawn was inquiring about herself. "Not this time. I promise you will get your chance before the end of the year. I just want to get you in some Chaser and Beater training first."
They rose from the table, Hermione got up too, and taking Dawn and Harry's arm, she drew them to one side. "Don't let Ron see what's on those Slytherins' badges," she whispered urgently.
The twins looked questioningly at her, but she shook her head warningly; Ron had just ambled over to them, looking lost and desperate.
"Good luck, Ron," said Hermione. "And you, Harry—"
They walked back across the Great Hall. Ron seemed too distracted to notice much around him, but Dawn cast a curious glance at the crown-shaped badges as they passed the Slytherin table, and she made out the words etched onto them:
With an unpleasant feeling that this could mean nothing good, Dawn nudged Harry and they hurried Ron across the entrance hall, down the stone steps, and out into the icy air.
The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down the sloping lawns toward the stadium. There was no wind at all and the sky was a uniform pearly white.
When they arrived, Angelina had changed already and was talking to the rest of the team when they entered. Dawn, Harry and Ron pulled on their robes (Ron attempted to do his up back-to-front for several minutes before Alicia took pity on him and went to help) and 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 toward the pitch.
"Okay, I've only just found out the final lineup for Slytherin," said Angelina, consulting a piece of parchment. "Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left now, 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—"
"We do," said Dawn, Harry and Ron together.
"Well, they don't look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from another," said Angelina, pocketing her parchment, "but then I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way onto the pitch without signposts."
"Crabbe and Goyle are in the same mold," Harry assured her.
They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators' stands now.
"It's time," said Angelina in a hushed voice, looking at her watch. "C'mon everyone… good luck. Dawn, I'm glad to see you brought your broom even though you aren't playing today. I want you to hover on your broom, out of the way and just watch. I think on a broom you will have a better vantage point to see what we're doing and learn from it."
"Okay," Dawn said.
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.
The Slytherin team were standing waiting for them. They too were wearing those silver crown-shaped badges.
"Captains shake hands," ordered Madam Hooch,
"Professor," Montague said. "They have one extra person."
Madam Hooch looked and saw Dawn who smiled.
"I'm not playing today," Dawn explained. "Angelina wants me hovering out of the way above the match so I can learn some as I watch."
"Alright," Madam Hooch said. "As long as you remain out of the way." She looked back at Angelina and Montague. "Shake hands."
Angelina and Montague reached each other and it looked like Montague was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she did not wince. "Mount your brooms…"
Dawn mounted hers before the rest of the Gryffindor team and soared up above the stands up where she was sure she would be out of the way. From this vantage point she should be able to see everything she hoped.
Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew. The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward.
Dawn saw Ron streak off toward the goal hoops. She saw Harry soar toward her but stopped a few feet below.
"Good vantage point," Harry said approvingly. He then set off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a glint of gold; on the other side of the stadium, Draco Malfoy was doing exactly the same.
"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me—"
"JORDAN!" yelled Professor McGonagall.
"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest—and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's—ouch—been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe… Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and—nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away—"
Lee Jordan's commentary rang through the stadium and Dawn listened as best as she could. Though the wind at her altitude was making it difficult.
"—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 Harry swerved, his insides boiling at what he had just heard, he knew Lee was trying to drown out the sound of the singing. "Come on now, Angelina—looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat!—SHE SHOOTS—SHE—aaaah…"
Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zigzagging 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.
Dawn dove and circled the pitch on the outside of the stands. As she passed Ron she said. "Ignore them. They're trying to throw you off your game," she said before soaring back up out of the way.
"—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 Slytherin 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…"
The Slytherins sang even louder:
WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN…
Dawn soared around outside of the stands again toward Madam Hooch. "Is that allowed, the singing I mean. Their distracting Ron."
"Ms. Potter," Madam Hooch replied without taking her eyes off the match. "The vantage point you had was a good place to be. You need to remain there or I will have to ask you to land and take a seat in the stands."
"Okay," Dawn said with a sigh as she soared back up.
"—and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch—" cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,
WEASLEY IS OUR KING…
"Harry, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" screamed Angelina, soaring past him to keep up with Katie. "GET GOING!"
Harry had been stationary in midair for more than a minute, watching the progress of the match without sparing a thought for the whereabouts of the Snitch; he went into a dive and started circling the pitch again, staring around, trying to ignore the chorus now thundering through the stadium:
WEASLEY IS OUR KING,
WEASLEY IS OUR KING…
WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN…
"—and it's Warrington again," bellowed Lee, "who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Spinnet, come on now Angelina, you can take him—turns out you can't—but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell—er—drops it too—so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he's off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!"
Harry zoomed around the end of the stadium behind the Slytherin goal hoops.
"—and Pucey's dodged Alicia again, and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!"
Dawn groaned as she watched Ron miss again. Sadly, that would not be the last goal Ron let through as he didn't stop the next two.
"—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…"
Dawn felt worry in the pit of her stomach as she watched Harry duck a Bludger that Crabbe had sent rocketing in his direction.
"—Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey—Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good—I mean bad—Bell's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possession again…"
WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN—
Dawn blinked there was the Snitch five feet in front of her and there came Harry and Malfoy. Dawn soared away quickly to avoid a mid-air collision. No sooner had she moved then the Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goal hoops and scooted off toward the other side of the stands; its change of direction suited Malfoy, who was nearer. Harry pulled his Firebolt around, he and Malfoy were now neck and neck…
Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching toward the Snitch… to his right, Malfoy's arm extended too, reaching, groping…
It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds—Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball—Malfoy's fingernails scrabbled the back of Harry's hand hopelessly—Harry pulled his broom upward, holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval…
They were saved, it did not matter that Ron had let in those goals,
nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won—
WHAM!
A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forward off his broom.
Dawn's eyes went wide. Harry was several feet off the ground. She soared forward. She knew she wasn't going to reach Harry before he hit the ground. She watched as he landed on his back. Dawn heard Madam Hooch's shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands compounded of catcalls, angry yells and jeering, then a thud as she reached the ground and hopped off.
"Are you all right?" Dawn asked. She noticed that Angelina wasn't far behind her. She waved off the Gryffindor Captain trying to tell her she had it in hand.
"'Course I am, Dawnie," said Harry grimly, taking her hand and allowing her to pull him to his feet.
Madam Hooch was zooming toward one of the Slytherin players above them, though they could not see who it was at this angle.
"It was Crabbe," said Dawn angrily. "He whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch!"
Harry and Dawn heard a snort from behind them and turned around: 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 Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper… but then he was born in a bin… Did you two like my lyrics?"
Dawn and Harry did not answer; they 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 was making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone.
"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called, as Katie and Alicia hugged Harry. "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.
"I'm so tempted to jink him right now," Dawn admitted.
"—we couldn't fit in useless loser either—for his father, you know—"
Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand they stiffened, looking around 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, Potters?" 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—"
Dawn and Harry grabbed hold of George; meanwhile it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia, and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly.
"Where is Buffy?" Dawn asked as she looked around.
"With Madam Hooch," Harry said having spotted their sister. Both Madam Hooch and Buffy were berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack.
"Or 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—"
Dawn watched as Harry released George. She struggled to hold George by herself before George managed to free himself and take off after Harry going straight at Malfoy.
"Harry!" Dawn yelled. "NO!" Behind her she heard Angelina yelling at both Harry and George.
With no time to draw out his wand, Harry drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy's stomach.
Dawn watched as her brother and George hit Malfoy time and again, could hear Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around her.
"IMPEDIMENTA!" yelled Buffy who had her wand out and pointed at Harry who was knocked over backward by the force of the spell.
"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch as she and Buffy came up to them.
Harry leapt to his feet again and everyone saw Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background.
"I've never seen behavior like it," Madam Hooch said. She looked at Buffy who was their head of house. "Your office?"
Buffy nodded. "Harry, George, my office! Now!"
Harry and George marched off the pitch, both panting, neither saying a word to each other as Buffy followed them. The howling and jeering of the crowd grew fainter and fainter until they reached the entrance hall, where they could hear nothing except the sound of their own footsteps.
Author's Note: The line put on Tara's tombstone is what Tara said to Willow when they got back together in the episode before Tara's death.