November 1945
Ro stood beneath the stands around the Quidditch pitch, her arms crossed over her chest and a look of displeasure on her face. It was the morning of the first Quidditch match of the season, Slytherin against Gryffindor, as well as her first match with the Captaincy of the new House Team. She'd been awake since 7 am and was already in her Quidditch Uniform, having crept out of the dormitory down to the changing rooms to survey the pitch without disturbing Minerva or Poppy.
It had been only four weeks since the Tryouts for the Gryffindor Team had taken place, as Professor Dippet had been insistent that the Captains all waited for the new Flying Instructor to arrive before holding the Tryouts. Ro had been infuriated at the time, venting her frustrations to anyone who would listen about how their chances of winning the match decreased with every potential practise they lost out on. In mid October the Flying Instructor finally arrived and the Tryouts were given the go ahead, and when Ro made her way down to the pitch that morning there was a very familiar face waiting for her.
It turned out that their new Flying Instructor was none other than Marilyn Douglas, Gryffindor's old Seeker who had been in her seventh year when Ro was no more than a firstie. Ro was surprised to see her, having expected her to have gone on and played Quidditch professionally. But Marilyn had explained that she decided to train as a referee instead, and had taken the Hogwarts position without a second thought when she saw it advertised.
The Tryouts had gone very well in Ro's opinion. She had been generally pleased with the players who tried out for the Keeper and Chaser positions that Fleamont Potter and Alastor Moody's departures had left vacant. In the end she chose Cleatus Weasley for the Keeper position, remembering Minerva telling her how Alastor had recommended him for the position. Picking a third Chaser was more difficult as they would have to be able to work in a unit with Minerva and Larry; after much deliberation she settled on Anthea Newton, one of the old reserves and a good friend of Nancy Campbell's. Their final couple of practises before the match had been fantastic, and until now she hadn't been too worried about taking on Slytherin.
A lightning bolt flashed overhead, making Ro jump and swear softly under her breath. She hadn't been too worried about the match until she'd woken up to discover a torrential downpour outside her window. She had no idea how long she'd been stood beneath the stands, but in that time the weather had only worsened from a heavy rainfall into a full blown thunderstorm.
Something tapped Ro on the shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts, and she turned to see Poppy stood by her side. Her Gryffindor scarf was flapping wildly in the wind; Godric nestled into the top pocket of her duffel coat rather than perched in his usual spot on her shoulder. "I brought you this," she said, passing Ro a piece of cold toast, "you missed breakfast and we didn't know where you were. Minerva went with Larry into the changing room."
"Thanks," Ro smiled, suddenly feeling guilty about leaving without telling anyone where she'd gone.
After a pause, in which Ro quickly devoured her toast, Poppy said in an anxious voice "Are you sure this is a good idea? You'll catch your deaths out there with the weather like this. I'm sure everyone would understand if you asked for the match to be resched-"
Ro broke in roughly, cutting Poppy off mid-word. "We're playing. I won't become known as the Captain who fled from her first match."
Poppy sighed quietly but didn't say anything, seeming to recognise when she was beaten. When Ernest and Cleatus emerged from the changing rooms, Poppy touched Ro's hand tentatively to catch her attention again. "I should go up to the stands now, but I'll see you after the match. Good luck."
Ro nodded, forcing a smile. "I'll be careful, don't worry about me," she said, answering Poppy's unasked question. Poppy didn't return her smile before running off towards the staircase to the spectator stands.
Once Poppy had disappeared from sight, Ro went into the changing rooms where she'd left her broomstick. She ran her hand over the handle upon picking it up, pausing over the elegantly written 'Ro's Rocket' as she did so. Although she missed her old Silver Arrow, still in pieces beneath her bed, there were still times when she couldn't believe a broom as beautiful as the Rocket could belong to her. The acceleration was breathtaking and it would turn with the slightest change in position; Larry had joked a few times that it seemed to obey her thoughts rather than her actions. She had certainly put it through its paces during their practises and had no doubts that it would still handle well despite the gale, though she couldn't help her reluctance to expose it to the elements for the first time. Laughing at herself, she left the now empty changing rooms to join her team under the stands.
"Morning," Nancy greeted her cheerfully, though Anthea at her side looked more nervous. "How're you feeling?"
"I don't like this storm." Ro admitted, glancing back outside where the wind had picked up considerably. "But we're still playing."
Nancy nodded firmly, lending Ro reassurance. With Fleamont's graduation she had expected Nancy to be awarded Captaincy of the team, now being the oldest player, so it meant a lot to have her support and agreement. "As long as we're not out there for long, we'll be fine."
A shrill whistle sounding in the distance silenced the chatter among the team. Ro took a deep breath, knowing they had just under a minute before they'd be out there on the pitch. "Right then. I'll lead on, then I want Minerva and Larry either side of me with Anthea just behind. Nancy and Ernest go behind Anthea, and Cleatus bring up the rear. Got all that?"
There were a few murmurs of "Yes Captain!" as the team organised themselves into formation. Ro nodded once they were sorted, before falling into place at the head of her team.
They marched- or squelched- out onto the pitch to the cheers of the crowd, oddly muted behind the wailing wind. "Here are the Gryffindor Team, lead by new Captain Rolanda Hooch," shouted Maggie Jordan over the commentary; she'd auditioned for the position of commentator after Filius Flitwick graduated. "Some of you might remember back when Erika Hooch Captained the Gryffindor Team; if Rolanda's anything like her sister then we've got a cracking match coming up."
"Captains, shake hands," ordered Marilyn- or Madame Douglas now, Ro reminded herself. Slytherin's new Captain, Neil Lament, was a lanky fifth year boy who looked nowhere near as intimidating as the previous Captain Nott. Ro smirked inwardly at his mildly nervous expression when brown eyes met piercing yellow, and she gripped his hand firmly when she shook it. Then she mounted the Rocket, the balls were released, and they were off.
If the storm had felt bad on the ground, it was even worse once the players were airborne. Ro could hardly see the other crimson-clad players, let alone the Snitch, through the grey rain as she flew around the stadium. Not long into the game she had to swerve violently to avoid a Bludger that turned out to have been hit by one of her own Beaters; a short while later she saw Ernest mouth 'sorry' in her direction. The rain was so forceful that she could feel it trickling down beneath her goggles, Minerva had used the Impervius charm to make them repel water but that didn't stop the rain dripping into her eyes. Every layer of her uniform was soaked through, she could hardly feel her numb fingers within her sodden gloves, and her drenched hair was plastered to her head.
Even the commentary was inaudible now with the howling of the wind in her ears, so she had absolutely no idea how the Chasers were getting on beneath her. A clap of thunder made her jump so badly she almost lost her balance, gripping the rain-soaked handle of her Rocket hard to stay aboard. Poppy had been right about the dangers of the storm- if they didn't get the game finished as soon as possible, someone was going to get seriously injured. And knowing her previous record, it was probably going to be her.
A massive blur zooming past nearly unseated her again, though her screeched swearing was lost to the wind. Ro could just about make out a number seven written in silver on a green uniform, meaning it was Owle Bullock who had just flashed by. Suddenly concerned that he had managed to spot the Snitch, she leaned forward to soar fast behind him. The Rocket's unbeatable acceleration meant she was level with Bullock within a minute, but she could feel the wind dragging her sideways as she flew. In normal conditions it would beat Bullock's Comet 180 without a problem, but Bullock's heavier bulk meant that he was being affected by the gale much less than Ro was.
Ro's attention was captured when she spotted the faintest golden glimmer in the distance, hovering about 30 feet over the stands. It was clear that Bullock had seen it at the same time as her, as he put on a surprising burst of speed that left her struggling to catch up. The wind had picked up again, battering her and the Rocket to the point that she could barely fly in a straight line.
Dread filled her heart as Bullock neared the Snitch, one hand off his broom handle to reach out for it. Ro gritted her teeth and launched herself forward, but she couldn't see any way she'd be able to get to it before him. They were 10 feet away... 5 feet away... a groan escaped her lips as she recognised her imminent defeat.
A sharp blast of wind interrupted Ro's despair, catching her completely by surprise. She let out an involuntary yelp as she barrelled into Bullock, her arms flailing in a failed attempt to stabilise herself. Something collided with her fingers and she grabbed it desperately in the hope it might stop her falling, but the Rocket was slipping out from between her legs. Expecting a long fall before she hit the mud below, it came as a shock when she slammed into something wooden mere seconds later.
Every breath of air had been thrust out of Ro's lungs with the collision. Gasping like a fish out of water, it was a moment or two before she finally opened her eyes to try and work out what she'd hit. Her vision was swimming, but she could just about make out the forms of several people peering down on her. Suddenly she became aware that someone was calling her name, and the faces above her swam into focus. Professor Dumbledore's unmistakeable beard became recognisable first, then steel-grey hair of Professor Merrythought and Professor Aurelius' freckled face.
"Can you hear me, Rolanda?" That was Professor Merrythought, easing her wrist beneath Ro's shoulder to gently help her sit up. Professor Aurelius had hold of Ro's left arm and was gently flexing her elbow; she went to snatch it back before remembering that Professor Aurelius had previously been a Mediwitch.
"Mhmm," Ro nodded, still feeling a little dazed as she pulled off her goggles and felt her fringe flop into her eyes. "Wha' happ'nd?"
It was Professor Dumbledore who answered, kneeling down by Ro's feet. If her mind didn't feel so fuzzy, Ro might have laughed at the way his pointy hat had sagged halfway up and was dripping water from the tip. "You were blown off your broomstick into the staff stands. But you won the match."
"Oh, ok," Ro said vaguely, before her mind processed Professor Dumbledore's words. "Wait, we won? But how?"
Professor Dumbledore smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. "Take a look at what's in your other hand."
Ro looked down at her closed fist, remembering her frantic grab of something tiny and airborne. She didn't dare hope too hard, until she opened her fingers and a grin spread across her face. Sat atop her waterlogged glove, wings folded neatly into its side, was the Golden Snitch. Flicking her sodden fringe out of her face, Ro beamed up at Professor Dumbledore.
"You look fine to me," Professor Aurelius said, finally finishing her inspection. "Can you stand?"
Ro was grateful when Professor Merrythought held out an arm to her, and with her help she was able to stagger to her feet. "I feel fine," she said, jumping a couple of times on the spot to check her legs.
"Good." Professor Merrythought smiled, "Now, since no-one seems to have a clue what's happening, we'd better go and clear up the confusion."
It didn't take long for Professor Merrythought to be proved right. The thirteen remaining players had landed on the boggy pitch, and there seemed to be an argument raging between the Gryffindors and Slytherins which Ro could only just hear over the storm and the talk in the stands.
Professor Dumbledore blasted a shower of golden sparks into the air with his wand, catching the attention of every person in the stadium. "The match is over as the Snitch has been caught," he called out in a magically magnified voice, then beckoned to Ro. Unable to wipe the smile from her cheeks, she lifted the Snitch into the air as the crowd burst into cheers.
Ro was reunited with the rest of her team beneath the stands, every one of them drenched to the skin but still grinning from ear to ear. Minerva pulled her into a clammy embrace as Nancy clapped her on the shoulder, their hands feeling just as numb and frozen as hers.
"Told you it'd be alright, didn't I?" Nancy laughed, unbuckling her arm guards. "But what happened? All I saw was you and Bullock having a punch-up in midair!"
Ro burst out laughing. "Not far from what happened really, though I'd have never caught the Snitch if I hadn't been blown into him!" She twirled the Snitch between her fingers, the metal cold on her fingertips.
"So we owe this match to the storm then," Larry said. To Ro's surprise he was holding the Rocket in addition to his own Cleansweep, though as he passed it over he explained "It was blown onto the pitch after you fell into the audience, but there's no damage done."
"Good good." Ro nodded, sliding the Snitch into her pocket. She knew from experience that Quidditch Captains got to keep their Snitches; Erika had a sizeable pile on the mantelpiece of her flat, and the three Snitches she'd caught during Fleamont's Captaincy had all been kept by him. "I think we've earned a hot shower, even my underwear is soaked!"
The whole team laughed, though Minerva shook her head slightly as she wrung out her plait. "Because we all really needed to hear that," she said exasperatedly, neatly dodging Ro's elbow.
Once they'd all warmed up a little with the help of a shower and change of clothes, Ro and Minerva left their filthy uniforms behind to be washed while they returned to the castle. They met up with Poppy, Septima, Irma and Millicent on the first floor corridor, all wearing bright smiles. Poppy's face held a hint of a frown though, which Godric was clearly oblivious too as he bounced happily on her shoulder.
"I may as well stop telling you to be careful," she huffed, looking Ro sternly in the eye.
Ro shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "Well it's not like I'm not being careful. It's not Quidditch if there's no fistycuffs on the pitch, especially when it's Slytherin you're playing."
"And speaking of Slytherin," Irma said, her voice low, looking pointedly down the corridor.
Ro followed her gaze and groaned inwardly at the sight of Owle Bullock, Abraxas Malfoy and Orion Black, still wearing their Quidditch uniforms. Her dismay grew even more when she noted their furious expressions, all trained on her.
"I don't see what cause you ragtag bunch have to celebrate," drawled Abraxas. He seemed to be addressing all of them, though his pale gaze was fixed only on Ro.
Meeting his eyes unflinchingly, Ro growled "What do you want?" She inwardly cursed the fact that her wand was still on her bedside table in Gryffindor Tower.
Bullock spoke, though Ro and Abraxas maintained their stare for dominance. "We were just thinking-"
"I didn't think you had the capacity, Bullock." Irma interrupted, her voice quiet and dangerous. Ro had never heard that from her before, and a smirk flickered around her mouth.
Owle's lip curled into a snarl and he went to move forwards, though Orion's vice-like hand on his shoulder stopped him. Orion stepped in front of Owle and Abraxas, forcing Ro to break off her stare. "We were contemplating how you've never managed to beat Slytherin at a Quidditch match."
"What are you talking about?" Minerva's tone was harsh, fists clenching at her sides. "We won this match, and last year's too."
Orion laughed, and both the younger Slytherins followed in his lead. "You only won because of outside intervention. If the Mudblood-" anger coursed through Ro's veins "- hadn't spotted Lestrange you'd have never touched the Cup last year. And you may as well have stolen the Snitch out of our grasp today."
"Last year you cheated, today she caught the Snitch first. I don't see any illegalities in that!" retorted Septima.
"And the year you actually beat us, if it weren't for your lucky hit at my head then we'd have won that too." Ro added.
Abraxas tutted patronisingly. "Quidditch comes with risks, Hooch, if you can't handle them then you should really hand that badge in"
"You can keep making excuses, it'll never make you a decent player." Orion continued with a nasty leer. Compared to your sister you're an absolute joke, and that's saying quite something."
If Minerva and Poppy hadn't immediately grabbed hold of her arms, Ro would have attacked him even without a wand. Blood was roaring in her ears, and she could already feel the crackle of magic at her fingertips that would shatter the windows if she let it grow unchecked.
"He's not worth it," Millicent whispered from somewhere close behind her, "let it go."
Ro took a long breath, and the fury faded from her chest. With a curt nod to Minerva, they all turned wordlessly to walk down the corridor in the other direction.
"You know, I reckon Dumbledore only made her Captain out of pity." Owle's voice drifted down the corridor, loud enough that he clearly intended them to hear. "Because her blood traitor mother couldn't save herself from the big scary Muggles!"
Ro's vision blurred again, but this time it was nothing to do with a 30 foot drop. Wrenching her arms free from Minerva's grip, she marched towards Owle and jammed her knee up between his legs. With a pained moan he collapsed to the floor, face twisted in an expression of agony.
"Don't you ever insult me, my friends or my family again!" Ro spat, chest heaving adrenaline. So focused on Owle, there could have been no-one else in the corridor for all she knew.
Her gaze was ripped quite literally from Owle's convulsing form by Abraxas seizing the collar of her shirt and shaking her roughly. "This is from him," he growled, kneeing Ro hard in the stomach. She winced involuntarily and her knees threatened to buckle, though she forced herself to look him back in the eye. "And this is from me."
In one swift movement, his forehead connected with the bridge of Ro's nose. There was a cracking sound that resonated through her skull, seconds before hot blood gushed out all over her face. Abraxas released her shirt and she hit the floor helplessly, gagging as blood flowed into her mouth and down her throat.
Ro was dimly aware of the goings on around her, though the dull ache in her stomach and the numbness spreading across her face prevented her from concentrating on much else. There was a lot of shouting going on, before heavy footsteps fading out of earshot signalled the departure of the Slytherin boys.
"Get her into the bathroom," someone said close to her ear as several pairs of hands helped pull her to her feet. Ro let herself be guided blindly forwards, her dazed mind meaning she could only stumble in the direction that she was pushed in. She opened her eyes in time to see them pass into the girls' toilets, then caught sight of her reflection in a mirror and immediately wished she hadn't. Dark blood was flowing from her nose with the speed of a running tap, and there were great blotches of red all over her clothes and hands.
"Ro, look at me and hold still." The same voice sounded again, and Ro now realised it was Poppy. She had her wand pointed at Ro's nose, the tip of her tongue protruding from her lips in an expression of intense concentration. "Episkey," Poppy muttered, and Ro readied herself for the unpleasant sensation she knew was in store. Her nose burned hot, then grew cold, and finally felt relatively normal again.
Trusting that her nose was now fixed, Ro turned back to the mirror and braced herself on the sink beneath it. The sight was absolutely ridiculous; her hair was sticking out all over the place as it dried, and there was the hint of a bruise already blooming around the parts of her nose that weren't caked in blood. She could feel herself shaking from head to toe, and told herself firmly not to pass out.
"Are you alright?" asked Poppy, and Ro suddenly realised she'd said the words out loud. "Do you need to lie down?"
Ro shook her head, though the motion only made her feel worse. "No I'm fine, I'm-" she broke off as she coughed up a mouthful of blood into the sink. Millicent waved a wad of toilet roll in front of her face, which she used to wipe the blood now dripping from her nose and mouth.
"Take it easy now Ro," Minerva said, laying her hand on Ro's shoulder. "When you're ok we'll go back up to the dormitory for a while."
"I'm alright." Ro mumbled, her eyes shut again as she leaned over the sink and breathed heavily. The pain in her stomach hadn't lessened, though she wasn't sure there was anything Poppy could do for that. Feeling she had enough strength to talk properly again, she said between breaths "It's not the first time I've had broken my nose, though I swear it wasn't this bad before."
"What happened last time?" asked Septima, now sitting rather awkwardly in the sink next to Ro.
Ro let out a short laugh as the memory came back to her. "Fell out of a tree, I think I was eight or nine? I was playing on the farm with some Muggle friends so it was ages before Uncle Raymond could fix me up."
Poppy tsked in that motherly way that only she could pull off. "How is it feeling now?" she asked, gently feeling Ro's nose before standing back to examine it from a distance. "It might be a little bit wonky now, I'm not really sure. It doesn't look bad though. You're still bleeding, but that'll stop by itsel-"
"Are you making a mess in my bathroom?"
Ro spun around at the gloomy sounding voice, and let out an alarmed shout when she saw who it belonged to. The ghost of a girl probably no older than Ro was floating at head-height, observing Ro with an air of vague curiosity.
After a stunned pause, Millicent spoke in a trembling voice. "Myrtle?" she asked hesitantly, "Is that you?"
The ghost wrinkled her nose. "Forgotten about me already, have you? I'm not surprised, no-one ever remembered poor, lonely Myrtle."
Ro could only stare with shock. Pieces of information were now fitting together in her mind like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They were in the first floor girls' toilets, the ghost looked their age and was wearing what Ro now recognised as Ravenclaw robes, and Millicent – another Ravenclaw – had called her Myrtle. There was no other explanation; the ghost was that of Myrtle Warren, who had been killed in the bathroom by whatever had petrified Poppy and nearly killed Professor Merrythought.
It seemed Myrtle had noticed Ro's stare, as she suddenly zoomed forwards so she was less than a foot from Ro's face. "What are you looking at?" she demanded. Her tone was surprisingly intimidating, especially considering that Ro could see Irma's equally stunned expression through Myrtle's head.
Ro was about to mumble out a reply, when Septima butted in with a clearly false smile. "We were just surprised to see you after all this time!" she said, her gaze flickering around everyone else in an obvious plea for backup. "How have you been?"
"I've been dead." Myrtle said, fixing Septima with an unimpressed look.
Septima's smile faltered. "Right, I suppose you have."
"And no-one ever came to visit," Myrtle was now wailing, fat teardrops rolling down from behind her glasses. "Not even on my death-iversaries, and there have been two of them! Two death-iversaries and not one person came to see me!"
With a high-pitched sob, Myrtle swooped down into one of the toilet cubicles. There was a large splash, followed by a wave of water flowing from under the toilet door, and the sound of Myrtle's crying echoed around the otherwise quiet bathroom.
After a while of astounded silence, Minerva broke the stillness by glancing down and saying indignantly "You flicked nose-blood onto my cardigan."
Ro couldn't stop her laughter, even though it made her stomachache worse. Minerva's grey woolly cardigan was now flecked with drops of red, and there were even a couple of spots on her chin.
"Well then," Ro said, wiping her face gingerly with the back of her hand, "I've been thrown by the wind practically straight into three Professors, had my nose broken my one of my now worst enemies, and been given the shock of my life by someone who died two years ago. Not how I thought the day would go."
Irma let out a short laugh, an ironic smile on her face. "Just a regular day at Hogwarts then!"
Author's Note:
I actually had this chapter finished a couple of days ago, but I couldn't post it because my internet was down. Anyway, I freaking love this chapter! I've been waiting for so long to write it, and I enjoyed every moment while doing it (probably why I finished it so quickly!).
I do love all the Quidditch team members, even if now there are only two actual canon characters. Nancy's so tomboyish, similar to Ro in some ways, Ernest is very loyal and dedicated, and Larry's just a real sweetheart (I'm very fond of him). Our newest members Cleatus and Anthea are less fleshed out yet, but Cleatus is quite stubborn and incredibly determined, and Anthea is more shy but tougher than she appears to be. They're a great bunch of characters who are such fun to write about. And we've got Marilyn back now, who appeared briefly during the first-year chapters. I really liked what I'd written of her so took the opportunity to bring her back.
The bit about Quidditch Captains keeping their Snitches isn't canon, though it's kind of hinted by the fact that James Potter is often seen playing with a Snitch. Since he was never a Seeker, how would he get it if it wasn't a Captain thing? Anyway, it might not be realistic but it's a little detail that I liked.
The Slytherin bullies prove they're definitely back with a vengeance, though no Druella this time (which was a little odd). From a writing perspective I love to hate them- fantastic characters, awful human beings. What really made me smile though is how our girls react to them- the 'Irma' voice in my head surprised me with that line and I had to roll with it. And Ro... she was never going to get out of that unscathed but she really does give as good as she gets.
That bathroom scene was insanely fun. I could nitpick all my favourite bits all day, but my favourite thing to imagine would be Septima sitting in the sink. It made me laugh for some reason. And don't worry, this most definitely isn't the last time we'll be seeing Moaning Myrtle.
Just a quickie for anyone who doesn't know what 'fistycuffs' means (because it is a very British word), it's just a slang word for physical conflict. One of my favourite words, and it sounded like something Ro would say.
The next chapter is an equally fun one, though may not be out for another two weeks. Although all my college exams are done (finally!) I've got an assignment to hand in at the beginning of July, and because I'm on a residential for the last week of June I have to get it done this week. Plus I've been drafted in as a reserve for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, so I'll have to get my entry finished by next weekend. But I promise chapter 35 will be worth the wait!