Almost Dying for Quidditch

When the alarm clock rang at seven, she couldn't believe it at first, and she fervently envied Lavender, who was allowed to sleep on peacefully like a baby.

Severus wasn't at breakfast. And today it was her who was screwing up. In Transfiguration, she enchanted the cute angora kitten in front of her into a full-grown hippo instead of a wire-haired dachshund, to everyone's horror. "Where are your thoughts, Miss Patil!" cried Mrs McGonagall, quickly undoing the spell. "Now that's just plain dangerous! What's next, a whale or a dinosaur perhaps?"

Parvati turned bright red and was ashamed, especially in front of her twin sister, who of course would never make such a slip.

In the dungeons, she cut her finger while chopping up her stinking snails and had to have it treated in the Hospital Wing afterwards. So she was late for Herbology, where a wonderfully rested Lavender received her, yapping on and on like a radio: about Ron, about Quidditch, about the stars—and of course about Severus …

Parvati gritted her teeth and took her anger out on the mandrake babies, with whom she was not exactly squeamish.

And when she caught sight of the tall figure of her Potions teacher in front of her in the corridor on her way to lunch, she remembered the things he had said to Draco yesterday …

Parvati had to really force herself to eat and everything hurt.

The weekend arrived, with plenty of sunshine but already somewhat more autumnal temperatures. Ron repeated—under Hermione's nose—his invitation to Lavender to go to Hogsmeade with him, and this time she accepted with a smile.

Parvati, after being turned down by Hermione, joined Harry and the other boys for a fun afternoon in the Three Broomsticks. Draco was nowhere to be seen that Saturday.

Lavender was also satisfied. Ron had enough sense not to let their meeting degenerate into one of those uptight dates with only one obvious goal anyway. They strolled through the shops and then went for a long walk through the fields, Ron talking a lot about his family.

At one point he shyly grabbed Lavender's fingertips and she didn't mind; the boy was really acceptable. Eventually, they also returned to the Three Broomsticks and sat down with the others. "You're holding hands?" whispered Parvati incredulously. "What's going on now?"

Lavender shrugged with a grin and ordered a butterbeer from Rosmerta, who had just stepped up to the table. Ron next to her was apparently being subjected to a similar interrogation, he couldn't get his broad grin off his face at all.

Parvati leaned over to Lavender. "Lavender," she hissed warningly. "He wants something, a blind man could see that! What have you done to the poor boy?"

"Chatting," Lavender said innocuously. "What's the big deal?"

"Sure, and of course you have to touch each other then!"

"Ron seems to think so," Lavender confirmed. "Do you think Hermione will bite my head off now? After once again using the poor boy to boost my non-existent self-esteem..."

"One could really get the feeling that you are playing with him," said Parvati. "Or have you suddenly changed your mind?"

"Nuts!"

Rosmerta brought the butterbeer, and Lavender and Ron clinked their bottles together before she turned back to Parvati. "It's just friendship," she murmured to her. "We just have a lot in common at the moment, you know. The free periods, the Quidditch, Muggle Studies … my goodness, do people always have to be so uptight about it?"

"So you don't plan to practice a bit for the real thing?" asked Parvati lurkingly.

"I think you're crazy now!" cried Lavender indignantly. Ron and Harry turned around curiously. "You think I'd do that?" she asked, quieter again now. She was honestly indignant. She hadn't even begun to think of such a thing. Why did it always have to be blown up when a boy and a girl got on with each other a bit better, until it became really embarrassing? It sucks, Lavender thought. At the same time, she thought it felt extremely good to feel Ron's thigh lightly against hers …

Sunday was devoted entirely to Quidditch training. The first match—Gryffindor against Slytherin—was no longer far away, and Harry, the new team captain, had scheduled training for several times a week. After two exhausting hours in the crisp autumn air, Lavender returned to the Gryffindor rooms with Ron and Harry, exhausted but happy. She was hit by a bitter look from Hermione and, not wanting to have her mood dampened, went straight on to the shower.

Afterwards, she reluctantly picked up her books and tackled her homework. Oh God, what a mess! she realised as she sifted through the incomplete entries in her notebook. In some cases, she couldn't remember at all what homework she got for which lesson. The only thing she had consistently managed to get right so far was Potions—at least something! Otherwise, she had already got on Professor Ashley's bad side in Defence Against the Dark Arts because she couldn't show her essay neither last Monday nor Thursday.

He's going to tear my head off, she thought, staring with drooping shoulders at the three puny sentences she had managed to write in the course of two weeks. And they had already the next essay to do, which of course was to be delivered tomorrow; this man was really putting his money where his mouth was. Lavender sighed. And what about History of Magic; gee, there acutally was something, too …

She stood up and walked over to her friend. "Parvati?" she asked pleadingly. "Could you come for one minute?"

"No need. I'm leaving!" announced Hermione, sitting next to Parvati, packed her things and left the common room.

After a glance at Parvati's neatly kept notebook, Lavender finally saw her chances going down the drain. "I can't do this! Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic …, Potions! And everything until tomorrow! Don't say anything now!" she snapped at Parvati, who had already opened her mouth. "I'm doing Quidditch, after all, and that takes up a lot of time. And afterwards, I'm always dead tired!"

"I just wanted to offer you to use my essays as a template," Parvati explained in a soft voice. "As long as you don't copy them word for word …"

"Thank you, you're a sweetheart!" Lavender hugged and kissed her friend, then got straight to work. But her eyes kept falling shut. I'll never make it—until tomorrow …, she thought, before her head slammed down on the table and sleep finally took its toll.

When she woke up, it was already dark outside. The others had simply let her sleep, and someone had thoughtfully put a sofa blanket over her shoulders.

She had missed dinner again and had to get food in the kitchen. Then she worked late into the night and still only managed half. It seems to have its reasons that mediocre students should have two subjects less than the good ones, she realised when she finally lay in bed. The sixth grade is just too difficult for me …

The next day began in the same vein. Lavender finally delivered her first essay in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but that was all she had to offer. "What is this supposed to be, Miss Brown?" asked Professor Ashley. He had muscle packs like a boxer, and his eyes were little slits in an angular face. "Is the second essay coming next Monday then? I don't accept phased-shifted submissions. So far, I've been turning a blind eye, but this time, bring the essay to my office personally. Tonight!"

Lavender winced. "But I have Quidditch practice today," she objected. "I'll never make it! Can't I do it tomorrow morning …"

Ashley shook his head regretfully. "It's either today or the essay will be a Troll. You need to learn to prioritise. If you can't make your timetable, leave Quidditch out or one of your electives! Sit, please!"

Lavender felt the tears burning hotly behind her eyelids. "Leave Quidditch out!" she whispered to Parvati, stunned, as she sat back in her seat. "What does he think?"

Ashley had already moved on to one of his extremely dry theory lessons. Lavender completely shut down after only two minutes and stared out the window. This classroom had a good view of the sunlit Quidditch field, and everything in her yearned to get on her broom and whizz through the air. Ashley can go and get stuffed, Lavender thought. Prioritise! That's exactly what I'm going to do … the first match is already in three weeks!

Her stomach responded with a pleasant shiver at the thought. They would be facing the Slytherins, and Crabbe and Goyle would ruthlessly try to shoot her down with the Bludger. If they weren't too lame for her … Lavender grinned to herself, at that moment her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp, "Accio note!"

She looked startled at the teacher's desk where Professor Ashley was unfolding a small piece of parchment. "Phew, this is really like Umbridge … *yawn* About time we got the DA going again, eh?" he read out in a loud voice.

Parvati was sitting in her chair, completely blushed; the note must have been from her.

"What is this, Miss Patil?" he barked. "If my classes are too boring for you, you can leave right now! No one is forcing you to do your NEWT with me!"

"No, that's not what I meant," Parvati murmured.

"How then, pray tell?"

"Well, I was just wondering when we were going to do some practice …" Parvati whispered intimidated. She was very embarrassed by the whole thing, especially as it was not usually her style to be caught in such superfluous actions. The fact that Padma was eyeing her from the side, she certainly didn't like either.

Ashley stood up with a jerk, causing everyone to cringe in fright. "That, dear Miss Patil, you can leave to me!" he hissed angrily. He rushed towards her and slapped the note on her table with the flat of his hand. Parvati and Lavender backed away in shock. But the next moment, the corners of Lavender's mouth began to twitch treacherously. If I look at her now, we'll start laughing, she thought, staring at her feet.

"And if you are so bored with me, Miss Patil," he continued, "then I have a nice extra task for you! Come and see me at the end of the hour!"

He swept back to his desk and Lavender stared in disgust at her meagre notes, which were now covered all over with droplets of spit. She dared a sideways glance at Parvati, who, however, seemed light years away from laughing. Then she took out a handkerchief and neatly wiped the remains of her teacher from her parchment. She then held it out to Parvati, who had no use for such jokes. "Who was the note for anyway?" she whispered to her friend.

"For Harry," Parvati whispered in a tear-stained voice.

"Now don't take it to heart that much," Lavender tried to comfort her. It's probably because of Padma, she thought to herself. She's totally tensed up when she's around. What does she have to prove to her?

After the lesson, Parvati picked up her extra assignment, stony-faced, then they went together to History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns, a ghost. Lavender joined the others in delivering her essay, which she had just managed to do yesterday while half asleep. She knew Binns would give her a Troll right away, not out of malice, but because this ghost worked very differently from normal people. He was simply not accessible to the little problems of this world, and his teaching followed a rigid automated system.

Today, as in countless sixth classes before, he rambled on about the goblin uprisings in the thirteenth century, and they would have to write the next essay about that. At least he didn't think much of interactive discussions and Lavender could continue dreaming undisturbed.

"That's a very good idea about the DA, by the way," Harry said to Parvati over dinner. "I think so too," Lavender exclaimed. DA was the abbreviation for Dumbledore's Army, and it looked like it was once again sorely needed for the students to teach each other the tips and tricks against black magic. The rest of the Gryffindors around them were also enthusiastic about reintroducing Dumbledore's Army, and made a date for a first meeting on Thursday evening, when no one had much to do.

"Um, Parvati," Lavender said hesitantly as soon as they had set foot in the common room. "Do you mind if I copy your first draft for the essay directly? Otherwise I really won't make it!"

"Yes, I do mind!" it came from Parvati, who was still in a very bad mood. "Ashley is not stupid and I have enough problems with him already!"

"Why, I'm the one copying from you—" Lavender began, but Parvati hissed, "No. It's either as a template or nothing!"

"Fine! Then nothing!" hissed Lavender back and stormed angrily up the spiral staircase into the dormitory, where Hermione sat reading on her bed and gave her a particularly withering glare.

Lavender barricaded herself in the bathroom, grabbed the Daily Prophet and settled down on the loo. But she didn't take in a word of what she was reading. What's wrong with Parvati, she thought in frustration. Sometimes snotty, then again like the absolute nerd—and she hardly ate today. Has she maybe fallen in love?

After a successfully survived hour of Potions, Lavender naturally went to Quidditch practice. She didn't have to think for a second about what had priority for her. She arrived at the large pitch on time. Only Harry and Ron were already waiting, leaning on their brooms, chatting about Dumbledore's army. "Parvati really is a clever girl," Harry remarked to Lavender. "After all, with that loser of a teacher, I could have come up with it myself long ago!"

And suddenly, Lavender felt a "click!" in her head. Of course! It's Harry … didn't she once mention that she thought he was cute?

From then on, Lavender could hardly get the grin off her face. Fortunately, the other team members were now arriving and the training could begin. Harry started first with a special session for the Keeper Ron, who was bombarded with the Quaffle by Lavender and the other two Chasers in turn. Ron had not been a goalkeeper for long and it was essential that he had the necessary confidence in a fortnight.

Suddenly, they heard loud voices from below: The two Beaters who were still waiting on the ground were just being roughed up by the Slytherins.

"What are you doing here?" shouted Harry angrily downwards.

"What do you think, you super-dullhead! Train!" Draco Malfoy shouted back.

"We've got the pitch now though!"

"That's news!" Malfoy mounted his broom and casually glided vertically upwards until he was level with Harry. "We have practice now. From three to five o'clock!"

"You must be mistaken," Harry replied amiably. "We have practice at this time, just like last Monday! Would you please leave now and only come back when we're done?"

"No," Draco said in a drawling voice. "You go!"

"No, we're not going!"

The two team Seekers eyed each other aggressively until Draco was the first to avert his gaze. "John!" he called down to the others. "Go, get Snape!"

One of the younger ones immediately started to move. "Tell tale tit, your tongue shall be split," Lavender hummed, bobbing exuberantly on her broom; she was looking forward to seeing Severus in a moment.

Draco gave her a deadly look from narrow eyes and then began to draw slow circles through the air. Harry remained motionless in one spot, but he was fuming with rage.

That's when it got too silly for Lavender. "Come on, let's get on with it," she said half aloud to Ron and hurled the Quaffle towards the goal, past the stunned keeper, who of course didn't catch it.

That got Draco's hackles up. "Who do you think you are, you little wannabe-witch!" he scolded, then turned sharply and dashed straight at Lavender, who stared at him with wide-open eyes, completely perplexed. Only at the last moment did she dodge and dive out from under him.

But Draco was trained for such things, the Golden Snitch had quite different manoeuvres. He immediately followed and yanked Lavender backwards by her plait so violently that her broom flew on without her.

But she had already reflexively grabbed his leg. "FUUUCK!" she shrieked in panic. Her broom was gone and ten yards of air opened up beneath her—Lavender was out of her mind with fear.

And now Draco was going into a spin too, he couldn't manage to steer his broom with this unfamiliar load. They hurtled towards the ground, swaying and screaming.

For a moment, Lavender thought she might be able to get the broom under control if she managed to pull herself up by his leg—but that proved impossible. Okay, that's it, Lavender thought stunned, her face pressed against Draco's thigh. I'm dying! Because of that asshole—

Then she felt someone grab her arm and her flight was abruptly slowed. Lavender caught sight of Ron's face beside her and gasped in relief. Ron and Harry had reacted quickly to break Lavender and Draco's fall. Nevertheless, the four of them landed rather hard on the ground and tumbled wildly in all directions. Lavender immediately struggled to her feet and blindly kicked and hit out at Draco. "God, I wish you'd broken your neck!" she shrieked uncontrollably, hardly recognising her own voice. "You really are the worst—"

Draco was barely able to withstand her blows, and he also received a hefty punch from Ron. "Crabbe … Goyle!" whimpered Draco. "Why you're just standing there so useless?"

The addressed boys flinched and approached heavily. Crabbe hesitantly extended an arm towards Lavender, but retreated, howling in pain, as she kicked him frontally against the kneecap in her frenzied rage. Draco took advantage of the moment and smacked Lavender so hard in the face with the edge of his hand that she fell. Then he turned to Harry, whom Goyle had just put in a headlock. Crabbe, on the other hand, had meanwhile thrown himself on Ron with all his weight.

Lavender raised her head with difficulty and shouted in a shrill voice to the other members of her crew, who were watching the spectacle as if paralysed: "You know, we could use a little help here!"

At that moment she saw the rescuing angel rushing towards her with his robe flowing, and she sobbed in relief. Severus!

"What's going on here!" roared Snape when he reached them, bringing the brawl to an abrupt end.

"Miss Brown?" Severus looked down at her, frowning. "Are you hurt?"

Lavender shook her head in a daze. Nevertheless, Severus crouched down next to her, and with a sense of unreality she perceived him gently palpating her arms, legs, ribs and neck area.

"Can you stand up?" he asked. Lavender nodded and he gently pulled her up by her upper arms. "Are you all right?" he asked again as she stood before him, his dark eyes sliding over her face with an almost worried expression. Lavender was breathing heavily and her lower lip began to tremble. Without thinking, she flung her arms around Severus and began to sob unrestrainedly.

At first he stood stock-still—Oh God, what am I doing here!, Lavender thought, stunned—but finally she felt his hand hesitantly on her back. "It's all right," he said softly. "Luckily nothing happened."

"It almost did!" she heard Harry's fierce voice. "Draco almost killed her!"

Then everyone was silent again, only Lavender's heavy crying could be heard. She couldn't stop, although part of her was overjoyed. Having just narrowly escaped death, she was now in Severus's arms, and he was holding her head in his hand! And the way he smelt …

After a while, when he tried to gently pull away from her embrace, she only clung to him tighter and pressed her face to his chest. "It's alright," he murmured again, so close to her ear that she could feel his breath. "Lavender, it's alright …"

Reluctantly, she finally let herself be pushed away a little by the shoulders, and the first thing she saw with some consternation was his black shirt, that she, not particularly appetisingly, had wetted all over with her tears and snot. Then she met his eyes again, which surveyed her in an inscrutable way. "You got a little hurt, after all," he said finally, almost inaudibly, and carefully touched the spot where her cheek had made acquaintance with Draco's hand. "You should consult Madam Pomfrey, Miss Brown. Will you take care of it, Miss Patil?"

Then he let go of her and Lavender turned around, her knees weak and her whole body full of goose-pimples. Behind her stood Parvati with her mouth open and her eyes wide.