For the next two weeks, Percy laid low. He and the D.A. were resisting her under her very nose,doing the very thing that she and the Ministry most feared, and one wrong move could cost them a lot. And that is why he laid low and whenever he was supposed to be reading Wilbert Slinkhard's book duringher lessons he dwelled instead on satisfying memories of their most recent meetings remembering how Neville had successfully disarmedHermione, how Colin Creevey had mastered the Impediment Jinx after three meetings' hard effort, how Parvati Patil had produced such agood Reductor Curse that she had reduced the table carrying all theSneakoscopes to dust. He would also go an hour or two early for swordplay. This practice did help him get some muscle mass he had lost due to his lack of training at Hogwarts and thanks to that room, it made the endless possibilities
But there was a slight problem. Although the meetings and quidditch were great. It was getting too tight for him. Between Classes, quidditch, DA meetings, swordplay, and OWLs. And not to mention his curse of Achilles, it made him more tired with heavy bags under his eyes.
Hermione was one of those people and after watching him drink his third cup of coffee for breakfast, she decided to intervene and help him with his homework. Something which made him very gratefully to the muggleborn.
They also decided to reveal their pet project. They gave each of the members ofthe D.A. a fake Galleon and told the instructions.
"You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?" Hermionesaid, holding one up for examination at the end of their fourth meeting. The coin gleamed fat and yellow in the light from the torches."On real Galleons, that's just a serial number referring to the goblinwho cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers willchange to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins willgrow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocketyou'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets thedate of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because Percy put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimichis."
A blank silence greeted Hermione's words. She looked around at allthe faces upturned to her, rather disconcerted.
"Well — we thought it was a good idea," she said uncertainly, "Imean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there'snothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But . . . well, if you don't want to use them . . ."
"You both can do a Protean Charm?" said Terry Boot.
"Yes," said Hermione.
"Yeah so?" Percy asked
"But that's . . . that's N.E.W.T. standard, that is, you'll learn it in seventh, year," he said weakly.
"Oh," said Hermione, trying to look modest. "Oh . . . well . . . yes,I suppose it is. . . ."
"Yeah..." Percy said rubbing his neck. "I mean, It's all Hermione's idea."
"How come you both are not in Ravenclaw?" he demanded, staring at Hermione and Percy with something close to wonder. "With brains like yours?"
"Because she's braver and courageous than you claws." thought Percy immediately in his head.
"Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting," said Hermione brightly. "But it decided onGryffindor in the end. So does that mean we're using the Galleons?"
There was a murmur of assent and everybody moved forward tocollect one from the basket.
"You know what these remind me of?"Harry asked Hermione
"No, what's that?"
"The Death Eaters' scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and alltheir scars burn, and they know they've got to join him."
"Well . . . yes," said Hermione quietly. "That is where I got the idea. . . but you'll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metalrather than on our members' skin. . . ."
"Yeah . . . I prefer your way," said Harry, grinning, as he slipped hisGalleon into his pocket. "I suppose the only danger with these is thatwe might accidentally spend them."
"Fat chance," said Ron, who was examining his own fake Galleonwith a slightly mournful air. "I haven't got any real Galleons to confuse it with."
As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versusSlytherin drew nearer, their D.A. meetings were put on hold becauseAngelina insisted on almost daily practices. The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game. TheRavenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both teams over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, thoughthey attempted to disguise it under a decent pretence of sportsmanship, were determined to see their side's victory. Percy realized howmuch Professor McGonagall cared about beating Slytherin when she stopped giving them homework in the week leading up to thematch.
Snape sympathetic to his house: He had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors haddifficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to themany reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in thecorridors. When Alicia Spinnet turned up in the hospital wing withher eyebrows growing so thick and fast that they obscured her visionand obstructed her mouth, Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair-Thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen tothe fourteen eyewitnesses who insisted that they had seen theSlytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, hit her from behind with a jinxwhile she worked in the library.
But the chances were mixed. They had never lost to the Slytherins. Admittedly Ron was still not performingto Wood's standard, but he was working extremely hard to improve. He made some truly spectacular saves when he was on form: During onememorable practice, he had hung one-handed from his broom andkicked the Quaffle so hard away from the goal hoop that it soared thelength of the pitch and through the centre hoop at the other end. Therest of the team felt this save compared favourably with one made recently by Barry Ryan, the Irish International Keeper, against Poland'stop Chaser, Ladislaw Zamojski. Even Fred had said that Ron might yet make him and George proud and that they were seriously considering admitting that he was related to them, something he assuredRon they had been trying to deny for four years.
The only thing really worrying Percy was how much Ron was allowing the tactics of the Slytherin team to upset him before they evengot onto the pitch. Percy, of course, had endured their snide comments during his first two years when they called him a freak because of his metamorphagus abilities. But with his relationship with Snape, they weren't on speaking terms but they won't cross that line.
But Ron had never endured a relentless campaign of insults, jeers, andintimidation. When Slytherins, some of them seventh years and considerably larger than he was, muttered as they passed in the corridors, "Gotyour bed booked in the hospital wing, Weasley?" he did not laugh butturned a delicate shade of green. When Draco Malfoy imitated Rondropping the Quaffle, Ron's ears glowed red and his hands shook so badly that hewas likely to drop whatever he was holding.
October died out and November arrived. The skiesand the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly grey, the mountains around Hogwarts became snowcapped, and the temperature inthe castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons.
The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. The Great Hall was filling up fast when they arrived, they talklouder and the mood more exuberant than usual. As Percy passed theSlytherin table there was an upsurge of noise; he looked aroundand saw that nearly everyone there was wearing, in addition to theusual green-and-silver scarves and hats, silver badges in the shape ofwhat seemed to be crowned. And when Ron and Harry came, many of them waved at Ron, laughing uproariously
They received a rousing welcome at the Gryffindor table, whereeveryone was wearing red and gold, but far from raising Ron's spiritsthe cheers seemed to sap the last of his morale; he collapsed onto the nearest bench looking as though he were facing his final meal.
"I must've been mental to do this," he said in a croaky whisper."Mental."
"Don't be thick," said Harry firmly, passing him a choice of cereals."You're going to be fine. It's normal to be nervous."
"I'm rubbish," croaked Ron. "I'm lousy. I can't play to save my life.What was I thinking?"
"You're not lousy Ron," Percy said. "It's just nerves."
"Get a grip," said Harry sternly. "Look at that save you made withyour foot the other day, even Fred and George said it was brilliant —"
Ron turned a tortured face to them.
"That was an accident," he whispered miserably. "I didn't mean todo it — I slipped off my broom when none of you was looking andI was trying to get back on and I kicked the Quaffle by accident."
"Well," said Harry, recovering quickly from this unpleasant surprise, "a few more accidents like that and the game's in the bag, isn't it?"
Hermione and Ginny sat down opposite them wearing red-and-gold scarves, gloves, and rosettes.
"How're you feeling?" Ginny asked Ron, who was now staring intothe dregs of milk at the bottom of his empty cereal bowl as though he was considering to drown himself in it.
"He's just nervous," said Harry.
"Well, that's a good sign, I never feel you perform as well in examsif you're not a bit nervous," said Hermione heartily
"Hello," said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. Percy looked up: Luna Lovegood had drifted over from the Ravenclaw table.Many people were staring at her and a few openly laughing and pointing; she had managed to procure a hat shaped like a life-size lion'shead, which was perched precariously on her head.
"I'm supporting Gryffindor," said Luna, pointing unnecessarily ather hat. "Look what it does. . . ."
She reached up and tapped the hat with her wand. It opened itsmouth wide and gave an extremely realistic roar that made everyone near them jump.
"It's good, isn't it?" said Luna happily. "I wanted to have it chewingup a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time.Anyway . . . good luck, Ronald!"
She drifted away. They had not quite recovered from the shock ofLuna's hat before Angelina came hurrying toward them, accompaniedby Katie and Alicia, whose eyebrows had mercifully been returned tonormal by Madam Pomfrey.
"When you're ready," she said, "we're going to go straight down tothe pitch, check out conditions and change."
"We'll be there in a bit," Harry assured her. "Ron's just got to havesome breakfast."
It became clear after ten minutes, that Ron was not capable of eating anything more and Percy and Harry thought it best to get him down to the changing rooms. As they rose from the table, Hermionegot up too, and taking Percy's arm, she drew him to one side."Don't let Ron see what's on those Slytherins' badges," she whispered urgently.
Percy looked questioningly at her, but she shook her head warningly;
"Good luck, Ron," said Hermione, standing on tiptoe and kissinghim on the cheek. "And you, Percy —"
The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down thesloping lawns toward the stadium. There was no wind at all and thesky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would begood. Harrypointed out these encouraging factors to Ron as they walked, but hewas not sure that Ron was listening.Angelina had changed already and was talking to the rest of theteam when they entered. Harry, Percy and Ron pulled on their robes (Ronattempted to do his up back-to-front for several minutes before Alicia took pity on him and went to help) and then sat down to listen to thepre-match talk while the babble of voices outside grew steadily louderas the crowd came pouring out of the castle toward the pitch.
"Okay, I've only just found out the final lineup for Slytherin," saidAngelina, consulting a piece of parchment. "Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left now, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with the usual gorillas, rather than anyone who can flyparticularly well. They're two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don'tknow much about them —"
"We do," said Harry and Ron together."Well, they don't look bright enough to tell one end of a broomfrom another," said Angelina, pocketing her parchment, "but then Iwas always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their wayonto the pitch without signposts."
"Crabbe and Goyle are in the same mold," Harry assured her.
They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the bankedbenches of the spectators' stands now. Some people were singing,though Percy could not make out the words
"It's time," said Angelina in a hushed voice, looking at her watch."C'mon everyone . . . good luck."The team rose, shouldered their brooms, and marched in single fileout of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar ofsound greeted them in which Harry could still hear singing, though itwas muffled by the cheers and whistles.The Slytherin team were standing waiting for them. They too werewearing those silver crown-shaped badges. The new captain, Montague, was built with massive forearmslike hairy hams. Behind him lurked Crabbe and Goyle, almost aslarge, blinking stupidly in the sunlight, swinging their new Beaters' bats. Malfoy stood to one side, the sunlight gleaming on his whiteblond head. He caught Harry's eye and smirked, tapping the crownshaped badge on his chest.
"Captains shake hands," ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, asAngelina and Montague reached each other. Percy could tell thatMontague was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she did notwince. "Mount your brooms. . . ."
Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward
"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girlis, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me —"
"JORDAN!" yelled Professor McGonagall."Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest — and she's duckedWarrington, she's passed Montague, she's — ouch — been hit frombehind by a Bludger from Crabbe. . . . Montague catches the Quaffle,Montague heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there fromGeorge Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he dropsthe Quaffle, caught by Percy Jackson of Gryffindor reversepasses to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away —"
"— dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call, Alicia —and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they'resinging?"And as Lee paused to listen the song rose loud and clear from thesea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King.
"— and Alicia passes back to Angelina!" Lee shouted, an "Come on now,Angelina — looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! — SHESHOOTS — SHE — aaaah . . ."
Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw theQuaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zigzagging in betweenAlicia and Percy; the singing from below grew louder and louder as hedrew nearer and nearer Ron —
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King
Percy ignoring Angelina' orders turned the Pegasus toward Ron, a lone figure at the far end of thepitch, hovering before the three goal hoops while the massive Warrington pelted toward him . . .
"— and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading forgoal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead —"A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring . . .
"— so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brotherof Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on theteam — come on, Ron!"But the scream of delight came from the Griffyndor end. Ron haddived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared betweenthem. But Percy, soared up and grabbed the quaffle and passed it to Angelina, who looked shocked and relieved.
"AND SLYTHERIN- WHAT- HOW- WHERE IN THE NAME OF MERLIN DID PERCY JACKSON COME FROM!" Lee shouted and the Griffyndor stands were cheering even higher.
"Listen Ron. Look at me." Ron turned towards him. "Trusts your instincts and don't listen to the slytherins."
Ron nodded but he was still ashen white
The Slytherins sang even louder:
WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN . . .
"— and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Percy Jackson tankingup the pitch —" cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now sodeafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.
"Harry, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Percy heard Angelina scream, soaringpast him to keep up with Percy. "GET GOING!"
Percy passed it to Angelina but a bludger got her and Warrington intercepted it.
WEASLEY IS OUR KING,
WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN . . .
"— and it's Warrington again," bellowed Lee, "who passes to Pucey,Pucey's off past Spinnet, come on now Angelina, you can take him —turns out you can't — but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean,George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway, and Warringtondrops the Quaffle and Percy Jackson — er — drops it too — so that'sMontague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes theQuaffle, and he's off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!"
WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING . . .
"— and Pucey's dodged Alicia again, and he's heading straight forgoal, stop it, Ron!"
But he missed. There was aterrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screamsand applause from the Slytherins
THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING:
WEASLEY IS OUR KING.
But twenty-nil was nothing, there was still time for Gryffindor tocatch up or Harry to catch the Snitch, a few goals and they would be in the leadas usual.
But Ron let in two more goals. There was an edge of panic inHarry's desire to find the Snitch now. If he could just get it soon andfinish the game quickly . . .
"— and Percy Jackson of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague,nice swerve, Perce, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnsontakes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, comeon now Angelina — GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's forty-ten, fortyten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle. . . ."
Percy could hear Luna's ludicrous lion hat roaring amidst theGryffindor cheers and felt heartened; only thirty points in it, that wasnothing, they could pull back easily
"— Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey — Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Jackson, this looks good — I mean bad — Jackson's hit by aBludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possessionagain . . ."
WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN —
"PERCY!" Harry shouted. Percy raised an eyebrow before noticing a tiny fluttering Golden Snitch right in front of his face.
Percy dived, attempting to shake off the snitch but it was following him. He made a signal to shake of Malfoy and Harry nodded. First, Percy plunged towards the ground. Then Both seekers followed and then Percy pulled up. He then stopped and when he did that, Harry dodged Percy and caught it with his right hand.
Then it hit Percy.
A bludger hit Percy right on the small of his back his achille's spot. If it was a stab wound or the killing curse, he would've died but the pain was still exrcuitating. He fell on the ground moaning, his ears were ringing and his vision was slightly blurred. He heardMadam Hooch's shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands compoundedof catcalls, angry yells and jeering, a thud, then Angelina's franticvoice.
"Are you all right?"
Percy couldn't speak but groaned.
"It was that thug, Crabbe," said Angelina angrily as the sub-Katie Bell and Harry helped him up. "He whacked theBludger at you the moment he saw Harry got the Snitch — but we won, thanks to you, we won!"
Percy heard a snort from behind him and turned around, stillholding the Snitch tightly in his hand: Draco Malfoy had landed closeby; white-faced with fury, he was still managing to sneer."Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Percy. "I've neverseen a worse Keeper . . . but then he was born in a bin. . . . Did you like my lyrics, Potter?"
Percy tired to lunge at him but Katie and Harry held him back.
He turned away and met the rest of the team who were now landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph, all except Ron, who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and was making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone.
"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called, asKatie and Alicia hugged Harry and Percy. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fatand ugly — we wanted to sing about his mother, see —"
"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelina, casting Malfoy a disgustedlook.
"He's pathetic." Percy gritted out.
"— we couldn't fit in useless loser either — for his father, youknow —"
Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about.Halfway through shaking Harry's hand they stiffened, looking aroundat Malfoy.
"Leave it," said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. "Leave it,Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little —"
"— but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Jackson?" said Malfoy,sneering. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't seehow you stand the stink, I mean, your whole family was filthy rich but I suppose its your mum isn't it. Blood traitor and all —"Percy and Harry let go of their grips and grab hold of George.
Meanwhile it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia, and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly. Percy looked forMadamHooch but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack.
"Or perhaps," said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley'spigsty reminds you of it —"
Percy was not aware of releasing George, he just saw Harry and George sprinting at Malfoy. With notime to draw out his wand, Harry merely drew back the fist clutching theSnitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy's stomach —
"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO !"
He could hear girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, Georgeswearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd aroundhim not until somebody in the vicinity yelled"IMPEDIMENTA!" and Harry was knocked over backward.
"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch, asHarry leapt to his feet again; it was she who had hit him with the Impediment Jinx. She was holding her whistle in one hand and a wandin the other, her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Malfoy wascurled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody;George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. "I've never seen behavior like it — back up to the castle, bothof you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"
"Madam Hooch, they were provoked by Malfoy he..." but Hooch raised her hand. "Not one word Jackson. Not another word."
"Banned," said Angelina in a hollow voice, late that evening in the common room. "Banned. No Seeker and no Beaters . . . What on earth are we going to do?"
"It's just so unfair," said Alicia numbly. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?"
"No," said Ginny miserably; she and Hermione were sitting on either side of Harry. "He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner."
"And banning Fred when they didn't even do anything!" said Aliciafuriously, pummeling her knee with her fist.
It's not my fault I didn't," said Fred, with a very ugly look on hisface. "I would've pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn't been holding me back."
"I'm going to bed," said Angelina, getting slowly to her feet. "Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream. . . . Maybe I'llwake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet. . . ."
She was soon followed by Alicia and Katie. Fred and George slopedoff to bed sometime later, glowering at everyone they passed, andGinny went not long after that. Only Harry, Percy and Hermione were leftbeside the fire.
"Have you seen Ron?" Hermione asked in a low voice.Harry shook his head.
"I think he's avoiding us," said Hermione. "Where do you thinkhe — ?"
But at that precise moment, there was a creaking sound behindthem as the Fat Lady swung forward and Ron came clamberingthrough the portrait hole. He was very pale indeed and there wassnow in his hair. When he saw Harry and Hermione he stopped deadin his tracks.
"Where have you been?" said Hermione anxiously, springing up.
"Walking," Ron mumbled. He was still wearing his Quidditchthings.
Ron walked to the fireside and sank into the chair farthest fromHarry's, not looking at him
"I'm sorry," Ron mumbled, looking at his feet.
"What for?" said Harry.
"For thinking I can play Quidditch," said Ron. "I'm going to resignfirst thing tomorrow."
"If you resign," said Harry testily, "there'll only be three players lefton the team."
And when Ron looked puzzled, he said, "I've beengiven a lifetime ban. So've Fred and George."
"What?" Ron yelped.Hermione told him the full story. When she had finished, Ron looked more anguished than ever.
"This is all my fault —"
"You didn't make me punch Malfoy," said Harry angrily.
"— if I wasn't so lousy at Quidditch —"
"— it's got nothing to do with that —"
"— it was that song that wound me up —"
"— it would've wound anyone up —"
Hermione got up and walked to the window, away from the argument, watching the snow swirling down against the pane.
"Look, drop it, will you!" Harry burst out. "It's bad enough without you blaming yourself for everything!"
Ron said nothing but sat gazing miserably at the damp hem of hisrobes. After a while he said in a dull voice, "This is the worst I've everfelt in my life."
"Join the club," said Harry bitterly.
"Well," said Percy. It was the first time he had spoken "I can think ofone thing that might cheer you both up."
"Oh yeah?" said Harry skeptically.
"Yeah," said Percy, turning away from the pitch-black, snow-flecked window, a broad smile spreading across her face. "Hagrid'sback."
