Chapter 128: Secret Keepers And Lies

Harry said he was starving, so we headed straight for dinner without dropping off our bags in Gryffindor Tower. We had barely reached the entrance of the Great Hall, however, when a loud and angry voice yelled, "Oi, Potter!"

"What now?" he muttered wearily, turning to face Angelina, who looked as though she was fuming.

"I'll tell you what now," she said, marching straight up to him and poking him hard in the chest with her finger. "How come you've landed yourself in detention for five o'clock on Friday?"

"What?" said Harry. "Why ... oh yeah, Keeper tryouts!"

I started scratching at the back of my neck nervously.

"Now he remembers!" snarled Angelina. "Didn't I tell you I wanted to do a tryout with the whole team, and find someone who fitted in with everyone? Didn't I tell you I'd booked the Quidditch pitch specially? And now you've decided you're not going to be there!"

"I didn't decide not to be there!' said Harry. "I got detention from that Umbridge woman, just because I told her the truth about You-Know-Who."

"Well, you can just go straight to her and ask her to let you off en Friday," said Angelina fiercely, "and I don't care how you do it. Tell her You-Know-Who's a figment of your imagination if you like, just make sure you're there!"

She turned on her heel and stormed away.

'You know what.?' Harry said as we entered the Great Hall. "I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United whether Oliver Wood's been killed during a training session, because Angelina seems to be channelling his spirit."

"What d'you reckon are the odds of Umbridge letting you off on Friday?" I asked skeptically, as we sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Less than zero," said Harry glumly, tipping lamb chops onto his plate and starting to eat. "Better try, though, hadn't I? I'll offer to do two more detentions or something, I dunno. I hope she doesn't keep me too long this evening. You realise we've got to write three essays, practise Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, work out a counter-charm for Flitwick, finish the Bowtruckle drawing and start that stupid dream diary for Trelawney?"

"And it looks like it's going to rain." I moaned, looking outside

"What's that got to do with our homework?" said Hermione, her eyebrows raised.

"Nothing," I said quickly, stuffing mashed potatoes in my mouth.

After dinner, Hermione said she needed to go to the library (of course) and Harry headed off to detention with the toad. I went and got my new broom and rushed down to the Quidditch pitch.

I engorged six apples that I had nicked from dinner and charmed them to levitate. I took a quick look around to see if anyone was about, then I took to the hoops, the quaffle sized apples trailing behind me.

I had one of the apples float to the middle of the pitch. Then, I put a charm on it that made it zoom towards the right hoop. I soared as fast as I could and managed to knock it away. More like I busted it.

I made the mental note to use something harder next time, like walnuts.

I stayed out there for about three hours. I had busted all the apples, and had foolishly used a couple of stones, almost breaking my hand and wrist a couple times. Soon, I just practiced my speed and reflexes, seeing how quickly I could get from one hoop to the next.

I was exhausted and wanting nothing more than to crawl into my bed and go to sleep. Which was exactly what I did.

When I woke up, Irealized I hadn't finished any of my assignments, so i reluctantly decided to skip breakfast. Harry must have had the same idea, because he joined me in the common room.

"How come you didn't do it last night?" Harry asked.

"I got caught up doing other stuff." I muttered as I bent low over my parchment and scrawled a few words.

"That'll have to do," I said, slamming the diary shut. "I've said I dreamed I was buying a new pair of shoes, she can't make anything weird out of that, can she?"

We hurried off to North Tower together.

"How was detention with Umbridge, anyway?" I asked Harry. "What did she make you do?"

"Lines." said Harry, quickly.

"That's not too bad, then, eh?"

"Nope."

"Hey-I forgot- did she let you off for Friday?"

"No," said Harry.

I groaned sympathetically. I had wanted him to see me try out for the team.

"At least it's only lines," said Hermione consolingly, as Harry sank back onto his bench after a long ass boring day. "It's not as it it's a dreadful punishment, really."

Harry opened his mouth, closed it again and nodded.

"I can't believe how much homework we've got," I said miserably.

"Well, why didn't you do any last night?" Hermione asked me. "Where were you, anyway?"

'I was ... I fancied a walk," I said, hoping she wouldn't pry anymore.

That night, as Harry went to detention, and I convinced Hermione to go and talk to Ginny, I took to the pitch again, this time with engorged walnuts to practice with.

The walnuts worked out much better than the apples and stones, and soon enough, I was beginning to keep better goals, this time saving six out of ten. But I knew I could do much better. I got into the quidditch supplies and bewitched some of the quaffles, which seemed to do even better for me. I ended up saving eight out of then the next go round.

Thursday passed in a haze of tiredness. It was harder to shake Hermione this time, who was starting to believe that I either had a detention that I neglected to tell her about, or I was seeing a girl in secret. I laughed off both of her silly notions and finally told her that she would find out this weekend. She seemed put off, but accepted the answer, and headed to the library.

Friday I goofed. I was heading back to the tower when Harry caught me

"Ron? What are you doing?" he asked, startling me. I foolishly tried to hide my broom behind my back and look inconspicuous.

"Er-nothing." I said, unconvincingly. "What are you doing?"

Harry frowned at me. "Come on, you can tell me! What are you hiding here for?"

"I'm-I'm hiding from Fred and George, if you must know," I lied. "They just went past with a bunch of first-years, I bet they're testing stuff on them again, I mean, they can't do it in the common room now, can they, not with Hermione there."

"But what have you got your broom for, you haven't been flying, have you?" Harry asked.

"I-well-well, OK, I'll tell you, but don't laugh, all right?" I sighed. "I-I thought I'd try out for Gryffindor Keeper now I've got a decent broom. There. Go on. Laugh."

"I'm not laughing,' said Harry. "It's a brilliant idea! It'd be really cool if you got on the team! I've never seen you play Keeper, are you good?"

"I'm not bad," I said, greatly relieved at Harry's reaction. 'Charlie, Fred and George always made me keep for them when they were training during the holidays."

"So you've been practicing tonight?"

"Every evening since Tuesday ... just on my own, though. I've been trying to bewitch Quaffles to fly at me, but it hasn't been easy and I don't know how much use it'll be. Fred and George are going to laugh themselves stupid when I turn up for the tryouts. They haven't stopped taking the mickey out of me since I got made a prefect."

"I wish I was going to be there," said Harry bitterly, as we set off together towards the common room.

"Yeah, so do- Harry, what's that on the back of your hand?"

Harry had something weird on the back of his hand. He tried to hide it with little success

"It's just a cut -it's nothing-it's-"

But I grabbed his forearm and pulled the back of Harry's hand up level with my eyes. I couldn't believe my eyes. There, carved into Harry's fucking skin, almost glowing were the words "I must not tell lies."

"I thought you said she was just giving you lines! What the fuck is this?!"

Harry hesitated, and then told me about the blood quills that that child abusing cow had been using on him.

"The old hag!" I whispered revolted. "She's sick, that fucking bitch! Go to McGonagall, say something!"

"No," said Harry at once. "I'm not giving her the satisfaction of knowing she's got to me."

"Got to you? You can't let her get away with this!"

"I don't know how much power McGonagall's got over her," said Harry.

"Then fucking tell Dumbledore!"

"No," said Harry flatly.

"Why the bloody hell not?!"

"He's got enough on his mind," said Harry glumly.

"Well, I reckon you should-"

"Are you going to give me the password or will I have to stay awake all night waiting for you to finish your conversation?" said the Fat Lady.

Friday dawned sullen and sodden as the rest of the week. As Harry headed to detention and Hermione (who was begging me to tell her what I was doing) went to the library with her arms full of books, I went and grabbed my broom and headed down to tryouts.

"Ron?" said George as he saw me come out to the pitch. "Ron, you're trying out, mate?"

"Uh, yeah." I said nervously, bracing myself for some kind of rebuttal.

Shockingly, George gave me a pat on the back and a good luck.

Six more people were trying out as well. Two seventh years, a couple of sixth years, a fourth year, and even a second year, whom I would probably off myself over if he made it and I didn't.

Katie, Fred, George, Alicia, and Angelina all faced us, which was very intimidating, even though they weren't trying to be.

"Welcome to keeper trials." Angelina said, cheerfully enough. "I am Angelina Johnson, and I am your Quidditch captain for now, until I graduate next year. Our seeker is not present at this time, but he does wish you good luck.

"Now, I will have each of you keep the goal posts against five scores. Katie Bell will be the chaser that will be trying to score against you. And believe me, she is an excellent mark. Do not underestimate. Keep the goals as if you were playing an actual game. I'll be going in order of names, so Asher, you're up!"

One of the sixth years (Samantha Asher) took to the air. She managed to save the first two score attempts, but she didn't really seem into it, as she let three very easy saves happen. Angelina didn't even hesitate to send her on her way. And it seemed she didn't care. It also seemed as if the only reason she had come was to scope out my brothers.

"Frobisher, you're up!"

The other sixth year named Vicky Frobisher took to the sky and did so well, I just knew for a fact that tryouts were over and Angelina was going to tell us to pack it in and go about our lives. After she came down, she whispered something into Angelina's ear, causing her to frown, but she told Vicky to go sit on the bench that the rest of us were sitting on.

Geoffrey Hooper, the fourth year was next, and he flew very well, but missed a goal, to which he started pouting and whining like Ginny used to do when she was five years old.

The second year by the name of Patrick Jenkins was positively rubbish. I almost felt sorry for the young bloke, who didn't even bother to have Angelina tell him to sit on the bench. Instead, he left on his own accord.

Next was Anni Pearlman, a seventh year, who was a fair flyer, but missed a pretty easy save. She sat down looking as if she had won, showing off her arrogance.

Jonathan Thomas (no relation to Dean), the other seventh year was next and he did pretty fair. He missed a couple of goals, but only because Katie seemed keen on faking him out more than she did the other ones, leading me to believe that she was none too fond of him.

Finally, it was my turn, and I quickly forgot everything I had done at practice. My brothers and Alicia gave me a thumbs up. Angelina only gave me a small smile, not wanting to show bias.

I took to the air, stopping in front to the highest hoop, which was in the middle.

'Okay, Weasley, you can do this.' I said to myself.

As fast as lightning came a quaffle, and I barely saved it from going in when another came hurling towards the right goal post. I flew as quickly as I could, but I ended up missing it.

I managed to regain myself just in time to zoom over to the far left goalpost and save that one. I almost flew in a loop trying to reach the fourth, and almost fell off my bloody broom, but managing to save the fifth.

I flew down and sat on the bench, feeling very much disappointed in myself.

Angelina and the rest of the team went and deliberated. Geoffrey kept going on and on about being sweaty and tired, and Jonathan was ranting about Katie, saying that she was just mad that they had broken up which was why she had apparently thrown the tryouts for him.

When they came back about five minutes later, I started to panic. I just knew that she wasn't going to pick me. I couldn't blame her either, my flying was terrible.

"Well, I appreciate all of you for coming out," said Angelina, holding a keeper helmet in her hand, "and after much deliberation, we have picked our keeper. You've all done well today, and we appreciate your time, but we feel performance wise, the ability to get on with teammates, and dedication is very key, and this person has all of what we are looking for."

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see their faces anymore and the fact that I hadn't-

Suddenly I felt something hard hit my lap. I looked down. There in my lap laid the keeper helmet. I felt as if it were a thousand galleons.

"Me?" I squeaked.

"Congrats, Weasley," said Angelina, smiling. "Welcome to the team."

"Unbelievable!" whined Geoffrey, jumping up and pointing to my brothers. "You only picked him because of those two prats!"

"Well, now you're showing why we didn't pick you, Hooper," said Fred, crossing his arms. "No whiny bitches."

"Fuck you!" said Geoffrey, storming off the field.

The others got up and walked off. Jonathan have Katie a dirty look.

"This isn't over, Bell." he sneered at Katie.

"Oh it's just as over as it was last week!" yelled Katie as Jonathan walked away.

I still couldn't believe it as I sat there, holding the helmet.

"Well?" said George, coming over to me. "Stop staring at it like it's a vagina and let's celebrate!"

As soon as we got back to the common room, it was on. Lee Jordan had hit up the kitchens and got snacks, butterbeer, and candies, and one of the other seventh year's got music going.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, coming from the girl's dorm looking alarmed.

"You're looking at Gryffindor's new keeper!" I said triumphantly.

Hermione gasped. "Keeper? Is that what you were doing all this time? Practicing?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Oh Ron!" she said, jumping up and hugging me. This was new. And I rather liked it. " I'm so proud of you!"

"Come on Granger, Ron, have a drink!" said a sixth year I didn't know as he passed Hermione and I a goblet.

We toasted and took a swig, this tasting much different than most butterbeers I have had. Still, it was good, and I went and had another.

After about an hour, everyone was dancing and moving to both muggle and wizard music. We all seemed to be feeling woozy, and that's when I realized something was very different.

I finally realized what that something was when Hermione pulled me out of the armchair I was sitting in and demanded me to dance with her.

We both moved to the music, our hips grinding together like I had seen in one of Dean's muggle music magazines. I had to concentrate on many things that would disturb the raging hard on that was threatening to happen.

"I'm really really happy for you, Ron." said Hermione, as she put her hands on the back of my neck.

"Really? Thanks Mione, that means a lot." I said, trying my best to sound cool.

"You can do anything. Do you know that?!" said Hermione, very enthusiastically.

I couldn't help but laugh. "I know that now that you told me."

"Ooh! I just remembered! I have to knit for the house elves!" said Hermione, letting go of me.

"Really? Hermione, no. Let's just dance some more, okay?"

Hours later, Harry finally showed up from detention. By then, I was very much tipsy.

"Harry, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper!" I shouted, almost spilling my drink on him.

"What? Oh- brilliant!" said Harry, smiling.

"Have a Butterbeer." I said, passing him a bottle. "I can't believe it-where's Hermione gone?"

"She's there," said Fred, who was also swigging Butterbeer, and pointed to an armchair by the fire. Hermione was dozing in it, her drink tipping back and forth in her hand.

"Well, she said she was pleased when I told her," I said, feeling rather put out. I was hoping she would stay up longer.

"Let her sleep," said George hastily. Several of the first-years gathered around them bore unmistakable signs of recent nosebleeds.

"Come here, Ron, and see if Oliver's old robes fit you," called Katie, "we can take off his name and put yours on instead."

The party didn't let up until 3 in the morning, where I practically had to drag myself to bed.

Today had been an outstanding day.