The next days consisted of an angry Hedwig making me translate her anger toward Harry, and Ron's broken wand had me ducking more than I'd like to admit to avoid being blasted with boils. Friday afternoon, Oliver Wood caught me before I could enter the Portrait Hole back to our common room. "Kenzie." He started. "We're training tomorrow, be up at the crack of dawn."
"Dawn?" I repeated, pausing just inside the common room. "Have you gone mad?"
"If we want to win the Quidditch Cup, we need to get in as much practice as possible."
"Well, if I fall off my broom, I blame you." I sighed as I headed upstairs. The next morning, I was out of the common room bright and early with my robes on, a cloak wrapped around my shoulders and clutching my broomstick, I scurried through the halls of the castle. I found myself sitting in between Katie Bell and Angelina Jhonson, all three of us stifling next to each other and trying to stay awake as we waited for the other members of the Quidditch Team.
"There you are, Harry." Oliver greeted as the black-haired boy walked through the tent. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the pitch, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program which I really think will make all the difference…" I could barely focus on what Oliver was saying, and the little markers on the diagram behind him on the first board…and the second…and even a third. "So!" I jumped straight when Oliver called out. "Is that clear? Any questions?"
"I've got a question, Oliver." George spoke up. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"
"Or after breakfast." I yawned, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand.
"Now, listen here you lot." Oliver started. "We should have won the Quidditch Cup last year. We were easily the best team, but unfortunately, owing to circumstances beyond our control…" I sighed, looking down. Harry was out for the math due to his fight with Quirrel last year, and it seems Oliver didn't care all that much. "So, this year, we train harder than ever before! Ok, let's go and put our new theories to practice!" Oliver led us out onto the pitch, and I had to blink the sun out of my eyes. Ron and Hermione were sitting in the stands, waiting for us.
"Aren't you finished yet?" Ron called.
"Haven't even started," Ron said back. "Wood's been teaching us new moves." We practised for a good while before I noticed a swath of emerald green walking onto the pitch. Oliver shot down to the grass, and I followed as he stormed up to the Slytherin team.
"Flint!" Oliver's voice echoed over the empty stands. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"
"Plenty of room for all of us, Wood." Marcus Flint said. The Slytherin team didn't allow girls onto the team, so it was a bit intimidating.
"But I booked the pitch!" Oliver protested. "I booked it."
"Ah, but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape." I rolled my eyes as Flint brought out a small scroll. "I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch Pitch owing to the need to train their new seeker."
"You have a new seeker?" Oliver asked. "Where?" From behind the six large boys was one small one, smirking with his annoying git face and widow's peak hairline. Draco Malfoy.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred asked.
"Funny you should mention Draco's father." Flint smirked, a sinister-looking thing that I wanted to slap off his face. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team." The entire team showed off their brand new brooms, seven polished handles, sleek bristles, and gold engravings reading 'Nimbus Two Thousand and One' on each and every broomstick. "Very latest model, only came out last month." Flint picked a speck of dust off his broomstick and flicked it away. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps." Flint smiled evilly at Fred, George and I. I gripped my broom tightly, my hair turning Dark Candy Apple Red. "Sweeps the board with them." Flint looked over to the side. "Oh look, a pitch invasion." I followed his gaze to see Ron and Hermione crossing the field to us.
"What's happening?" Ron asked, his eyes flicking between me and Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?" Ron side-eyed Malfoy distastefully.
"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley." Malfoy announced smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's brought our team." Ron gaped at the brooms the Slytherin team held. "Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives. I expect a museum would bid well for them." The Slytherins almost doubled over laughing.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in." Hermione said hotly. "They got in on pure talent."
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood!"
"How dare you, you little twerp!" I cried.
"You'll pay for that one Malfoy!" Ron declared, shoving his wand toward Malfoy. However, a beam of green light shot out the opposite end of the wand and straight into Ron's stomach, causing him to land in the grass.
"Ron!" Hermione gasped. "Ron, are you alright?" Ron opened his mouth, but instead of words, he burped and a half dozen slugs spilled onto his lap, a cacophony of little voices crying freedom started to ebb in my mind as my hair turned a mix of Lime Green and Amber. The Slytherin team, on the other hand, were practically out of breath with how much they were laughing.
"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest." Harry said. I pushed my broom into his arms and pulled Ron up, managing to lift him into my arms. With the added weight, it took me a little longer to get my footing to hurry off the pitch, ignoring Colin Creevey's pestering. When we were close to Hagrid's hut, the door swung open to reveal Lockhart. "Quick, behind here!" Harry grabbed my arm and pulled me off to the side to hide behind a bush, something Hermione didn't seem happy about. Qw waited until Lockhart was out of sight before Harry raced to the front door to knock so I could lift Ron and follow behind.
"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me." Hagrid said. "Come in, come in, thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again." I sat Ron on one of the few chairs in Hargid's hut, explaining what had happened. "Better out than in." Hagrid plopped a copper basin in front of Ron, who promptly belched out more slugs into the pot. I rubbed his back sympathetically. "Get 'em all up, Ron."
"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop." Hermione said. "It's difficult curse work at the best of times, but with a broken wand…"
"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Harry asked as he scratched Fang, who was extremely happy that we were back.
"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well." Hagrid grumbled. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some Banshee he banished. If one word of it were true, I'd eat my pot.
"I think you're being a bit unfair." Hermione said. "Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job-"
"Hermione, he's the fifth professor I've seen in as many years." I told her. "Ever since I've been at Hogwarts, even our oldest brother Bill had a new professor every year."
"Yer exactly right, Kenzie." Hagrid agreed. He was the on'y man for the job. An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't to keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's laster fer a while now. So tell me…" Hagrid nodded to Ron. "Who was he tryn' ter curse?"
"Malfoy called Hermione something." Harry said. "It must've been really bad, because everyone went mad."
"It was bad!" Ron croaked. "Malfoy called her a Mudblood, Hagrid-" Ron hunched over and brought up more slugs. I continued to rub his back.
"Don't speak, just bring those things up." I told him gently.
"He didn'!" Hagrid bellowed.
"He did." Hermione lamented. "But I don't know what it means, I could tell it was really rude, of course…"
"Mudblood is…" I sighed. "It's a very derogatory name for a Muggle-Born Witch or Wizard. There's a few Pure-Blood families, like Malfoy and his lot, who believe that they're better than everyone else because of their bloodline. To many, it doesn't matter where you come from, if you can perform a spell, you're a Witch or Wizard. Besides, I font even know my bloodline, doesn't make me any less if I was a Mudblood, Half-Blood or Pure-Blood."
"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do." Hagrid said with a prod nod.
"It's a disgusting thing to call someone." Ron added, lifting his head from the basin. "Dirty-Blood, see. Common-Blood, it's mad! Most wizards these days are Half-Bloods anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles, we'd've died out." Ron ducked his head once more.
"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryn' to curse him, Ron." Hagrid said. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy woud've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."
"And as much as I would love to have let it go, I would have had to take points off, or given detention or something." I sighed. "Too many people saw, they'd have called it house bias or a family favour."
"Harry." Hagrid said suddenly. "Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin given' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?" Harry flared up.
"I have not been giving out signed photos!" He protested. "If Lockhart's still pushing that around-" Harry cut himself off when he saw that Hagrid was laughing.
"I'm on'y jokin'! I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn't need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryn'."
"Bet he didn't like that."
"Don' think he did. An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle toffee, Ron?"
"No thanks." Ron moaned weakly. "Better not risk it."
"Ome an' see what I've bin growin'." Hagrid stood and lead us out into his vegetable garden, which was overflowing with pumpkins, one the size of a massive boulder. "Gettin' on well, aren't they? Fer the Halloween feast…should be big enough by then."
"What've you been feeding them?" Harry asked.
"Well, I've bin givin' them…you know…a bit o' help."
"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" Hermione wondered. "Well, you've done a good job then."
"That's what yer little sister said." Hagrid said, nodding to me and Ron. "Met her jus' yesterday, said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house. If yeh ask me, she wouldn' say no ter a signed-"
"Oh shut up." Harry scoffed. I could see Ron turn green, and I turned Ron around before he laugh-snorted out a handful of slugs onto the ground. We said goodbye to Hagrid, and headed back up to the castle with Ron coughing up a handful of slugs along the way. I split from my young friends to head up to wash off, the Prefect bathroom which was absolutely amazing, with a massive tub that I was allowed to soak in before heading down for lunch. I met up with Harry, Ron and Hermione as the boys slouched into the Great Hall after talking with Professor McGonagall.
"What's the punishment?" I asked as we sat down.
"Filch'll have me there all night." Ron moaned. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."
"I'd swap any time." Harry said. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail…he'll be a nightmare."
"Wait, your family makes you clean the house?" I asked. "By Merlin, Harry…"
TIMESKIP
Come…come to me…let me rip you…let me tear you…let me kill you…
I woke with a start as the slithery voice echoed in my mind. My heart pounded in my chest, and I pushed my hair out of my eyes. What the hell was that…