October arrived, and Quidditch practice began. I had been very excited for this, as it would be my introduction to the first team and the step up in quality that came with it. Oliver called a meeting one Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season before our first practice, which would take place after the first reserve practice of the year. I was intrigued to see how the reserves would get on without me and to see Alicia's performance as captain.
As we were sat in the stands watching, it immediately became clear that Alicia was the right choice for captain. She was a natural leader, perhaps even more so than myself, and everyone respected her and followed her instructions right away. She was able to keep up the same chemistry and cohesion that I had installed in them the previous year. This only further strengthened my belief that we would win both cups this year. I was beginning to feel like Gryffindor House was just too overpowered at this point for anyone to compete.
There was a quiet sort of desperation in Wood's voice as he addressed us in the chilly changing rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch pitch.
'This is our last chance – my last chance – to win the Quidditch cup,' he told us, striding up and down. 'I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it. 'Gryffindor haven't won for seven years now. OK, so we've had the worst luck in the world – injuries – then the tournament getting called off last year …' Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. 'But we also know we've got the best – ruddy – team – in – the – school,' he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye.
'We've got three superb Chasers.' Wood pointed at me, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell.
'We've got two unbeatable Beaters.'
'Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us,' said Fred and George together, pretending to blush.
'And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!' Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. 'And me,' he added, as an afterthought.
'We think you're very good, too, Oliver,' said George.
'Cracking Keeper,' said Fred.
'The point is,' Wood went on, resuming his pacing, 'the Quidditch cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing …' Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic.
'Oliver, this year's our year,' said Fred.
'We'll do it, Oliver!' said Angelina.
'Definitely,' said Harry.
"Both our teams will, we're far too strong for the rest" I added.
The session progressed very well. I took no time at all to adapt to the different chasing tactics, and I found them just as enjoyable as mine, and even more so in some ways!
We returned to the Gryffindor common room, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.
'What's happened?' Harry asked as we all sat down with Ron. The three of them started working on some Astronomy star charts.
'First Hogsmeade weekend,' said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old notice board. 'End of October. Hallowe'en.'
'Excellent,' said Fred. 'I need to visit Zonko's, I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets.'
Harry looked depressed.
Hermione seemed to read his mind. 'Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time,' she said. 'They're bound to catch Black soon, he's been sighted once already.'
"Yeah Harry, there will be plenty to get up to back here, it'll be much quieter with everyone gone" I said, hoping he'd take the hint.
'Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade,' said Ron. 'Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry, the next one might not be for ages –'
'Ron!' said Hermione. 'Harry's supposed to stay in school –
'Yeah, I think I will,' said Harry, making up his mind.
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment Crookshanks, her cat, leapt lightly onto her lap.
A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth. 'Does he have to eat that in front of us?' said Ron, scowling.
'Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?' said Hermione. Crookshanks slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ron.
'Just keep him over there, that's all,' said Ron irritably, turning back to his star chart. 'I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag.'
Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ron, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.
'OY!' Ron roared, seizing his bag, as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deeply into it, and began tearing ferociously. 'GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!' Ron tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.
'Ron, don't hurt him!' squealed Hermione. The whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top –
'CATCH THAT CAT!' Ron yelled, as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table and chased after the terrified Scabbers. George made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; I made an attempt myself, but also missed, to everyone's surprise, especially my own, as it was common knowledge that I had the best reflexes of anyone in Gryffindor, some even described me as cat like, ironically. Crookshanks must have been seriously magical to be able to evade me, I thought.
Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs and started making furious swipes beneath the chest of drawers with his front paw. Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.
'Look at him!' he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. 'He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!'
'Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!' said Hermione, her voice shaking. 'All cats chase rats, Ron!'
'There's something funny about that animal!' said Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. 'It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!'
'Oh, what rubbish,' said Hermione impatiently. 'Crookshanks could smell him, Ron, how else d'you think –'
'That cat's got it in for Scabbers!' said Ron, ignoring the people around him, who were starting to giggle. 'And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!'
"Look, Hermione" said Demelza "there have to be a lot of rats in Gryffindor Tower, people leave food and shit lying everywhere here. The house elves only clean up at night, so it's gonna attract them. Crookshanks only seems to go after Scabbers though"
"Thanks Demelza" said Ron
He marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.
