𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚 𝕠𝕗 ' 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕙𝕖 ' HIATUS

xlii

"Well, I mean, I'd already let in that one of Davies's, so I wasn't feeling that confident, but I dunno, when Bradley came toward me, just out of nowhere, I thought — you can do this! And I had about a second to decide which way to fly, you know, because he looked like he was aiming for the right goal hoop — my right, obviously, his left — but I had a funny feeling that he was feinting, and so I took the chance and flew left — his right, I mean — and — well — you saw what happened," he concluded modestly, sweeping his hair back quite unnecessarily so that it looked interestingly windswept and glancing around to see whether the people nearest to them — a bunch of gossiping third-year Hufflepuffs — had heard him.

"And then, when Chambers came at me about five minutes later — what?" Ron said, stopping mid-sentence at the look on Harry's face. "Why are you grinning?"

"I'm not," said Harry quickly, looking down at his Transfiguration notes and attempting to straighten his face. The truth was that Ron had just reminded Harry forcibly of another Gryffindor Quidditch player who had once sat rumpling his hair under this very tree.

"I'm just glad we won, that's all."

"Yeah," said Ron slowly, savoring the words, "we won. Did you see the look on Chang's face when Ginny got the Snitch right out from under her nose?"

"I suppose she cried, did she?" said Harry bitterly.

"Well, yeah — more out of temper than anything, though . . ." Ron frowned slightly. "But you saw her chuck her broom away when she got back to the ground, didn't you?"

"Er —" said Harry.

"Well, actually . . . no, Ron," said Hermione with a heavy sigh, putting down her book and looking at him apologetically. "As a matter of fact, the only bit of the match Harry and I saw was Davies's first goal.

" Ron's carefully ruffled hair seemed to wilt with disappointment. "You didn't watch?" he said faintly, looking from one to the other. "You didn't see me make any of those saves?"

Before Harry or Hermione could say a word Eurielle had joined them. Flopping down near Hermione, " I'm guessing you told Ronald here about the bloody giant we have to babysit as well as tutor," she said boredly.

Ron's jaw dropped and his red brows furrowed in confusion, " W-What?"

So then the two explained to him why they had missed the match. The story was told in five minutes, by the end of which Ron's indignation had been replaced by a look of total incredulity. "He brought one back and hid it in the forest?"

Eurielle nodded, " Great idea wasn't it?" she said sarcastically taking out some parchment.

"No," said Ron, as though by saying this he could make it untrue. "No, he can't have. . . ."

"Well, he has," said Hermione firmly. "Grawp's about sixteen feet tall, enjoys ripping up twenty-foot pine trees, and knows me," she snorted, "as Hermy."

Eurielle let out a bark of laughter to which Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Ravenclaw, " Oh okay, Euri,"

The girl's delighted expression soured as she pulled out a quill, " Good Lord," she mumbled scribbling small cursive onto the paper, " Any of you want any sweets from my Nan's bakery? I've been craving them lately,"

Ron's already wide eyes became even larger as she said so, his pale eyes going from her face to her stomach, " You're not pregnant are you?!" he gasped, " I'm too young to be an uncle!"

Eurielle grabbed Hermione's book and threw it at him, " What do you think I'm stupid?!" she huffed, " We used a damn charm, Weasley,"

Ron's pale hand flew to his heart as he let out a relieved breath, " Bloody hell, that would have been worse than the giant,"