__ Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw__
"NO I DO NOT NEED A TAMPON!"
—
RON WAS NOW in the boys dormitory putting Harry's Firebolt in there.
"Can we sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione.
"i suppose so," said Hermione, moving a great stack of parchment off two chairs.
Rose looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies easay ('Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity') and at the rune translation Hermione was now poring over.
"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Rose asked her.
"Oh, well—you know—working hard," said Hermione. Close-up, they saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.
"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.
"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.
"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.
"Oh no, its wonderful!" said Hermione earnestly. "Its my favorite subject! It's—"
But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, they never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder—and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.
"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.
"Ron, what—?"
"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"
Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Rose looked down at the sheet Ron was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like—
"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence.
"Aw, Ron got his first period. Seems as though his mood swings are acting up, you need a tampon?" Rose teased.
"NO! I DO NOT NEED A TAMPON. HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"
"N—no," said Hermione in a trembling voice.
Ron threw something down onto Hermione's rune translation. Hermione, Harry, and Rose leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.
Rose closed her eyes and sighed,
"Ah, shit."
—
It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Each was so angry with the other that Harry and Rose couldn't see how they'd ever make up.
Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshank's attempts to eat Scrabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds. Hermione, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scrabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie.
Personally Harry was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scrabbers, and when he tried to point out to Hermione that the evidence all pointed that way, she lost her temper with Harry too.
"Okay, side with Ron, i knew you would!" she said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scrabbers, everythings my fault, isn't it! Just leave me alone, i've got a lot of work to do!"
Rose put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Don't worry Hermione, i believe you one hundred percent. Like i said before, I've never likes rats. Nasty creatures."
Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed.
"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly—one swallow—he probably didn't feel a thing."
"Fred!" said Ginny indignantly.
"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself." said George.
"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry?"
"Yeah, that's true," said Harry.
"His finest hour," said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyles finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, whats the point of moaning?"
—-
Rose was now in the Slytherin common room while Harry was at his final Quidditch match and Ron was watching from the stands. Rose was sitting on the couch staring into the fire, reflecting on her life choices.
"Hey.."
Rose turned her head quickly as if waiting for an attack but it was just Malfoy. Her face turned into a glare.
"What the hell do you want?" She asked, looking back to the fire.
He tried to joke. "I was just going to sit with my cousin, can i not do that anymore?"
"No."
He scoffed, looking into the fire as well.
After a silence he tried to start conversation again. "So you—you're like.. gay?"
Rose squeezed her eyes shut and sighed, "Why."
"I don't know, i just wanted confirmation." He defended. "So, are you?"
"Oh my god— yes."
"Oh."
Another very thick silence followed this.
"Thats—thats cool?"
She turned her head to him with furrowed eyebrows, "Huh?"
"I'm just trying to be nice about it!"
"You? Being nice? A likely story."
He rolled his eyes, "Fine i just wanted to say thanks for putting Pansy in a coma."
She raised her eyebrows, "I'm sorry?"
"She's just—so clingy. She won't ever leave me alone. She's obsessed with me—well i mean, who isn't, but that's not the point."
"Well—your welcome?"
"Can you do it again?" He asked, completely serious.
"What? No!"
"Why?" He asked again, dragging out the word.
"Because—! I shouldn't have to have a reason, I'm not putting her in another coma!"
"Awe." He looked down, disappointed.
—-
Rose was sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, next to Hermione, waiting for Harry and Ron to walk in. The professors were not at all surprised of Rose not sitting at her own house table, once again.
The Great Hall doors opened and she turned her head to see Harry, Ron, and quite literally the rest of the other boy's in their dormitory, walking at Harrys sides like Harry was a God. Rose rolled her eyes at how everyone was staring amazingly at Harry's Firebolt.
Wood, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.
"Put it here, Harry," he said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that it's name faced upward. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory came over to congratulate Harry on having acquired such a superb replacement for his Nimbus, and Percy's Ravenclaw girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.
"Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!" said Percy heartily as she examined the Firebolt closely. "Penelope and I have got a bet on," he told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!"
Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harry, and went back to her table.
"Harry—make sure you win," said Percy, in an urgent whisper. "I haven't got ten Galleons. Yes, i'm coming, Penny!" and he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.
"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.
Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.
"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.
"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute—in case you get too near a Dementor."
Crabbe and Goyle snickered.
"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."
The Gryffindor team laughed loudly. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed, and he stalked away. They watched him rejoin the rest of the Slytherin team, who put their heads together, no doubt asking Malfoy whether Harry's broom really was a Firebolt.
At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms, and Rose, Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the school moved into the stadium beyond the field.
Rose sighed, "Why do i have to be here?"
"Because you're a supportive friend." Hermione answered.
"But i don't wanna be."
"Oh, suck it up."
"Go read a book or something." Rose crossed her arms, leaning back in the seat before realizing there was no back to this seat and hurrying to hold herself up before she fell on her ass.
"You okay?" Ron asked, trying not to burst into laughter.
"Yeah, Yeah i'm fine." She stated breathlessly while glaring at him.
At that moment, the Gryffindor team walked out onto the field and the crowd bursted into tumultuous applause. Minus Rose, who was incredibly bored.
The team talked for a bit, then kicked off into the air and Harry's Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom; he soared aroujd the stadium and began squinting around for the snitch, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan.
"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship—"
"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.
"Right you are, Professor—just giving a bit of background information—the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and—"
"Jordan!"
"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal..."
Harry dived; A girl named Cho Chang in Ravenclaw team, saw what he was doing and tore after him—Harry was speeding up, excitement flooding him; dives were his specialty, he was ten feet away—
Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Harry veered of course, avoiding it by an inch, and in those few, crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished.
"Oh my god, this is taking forever!" Rose complained, "I just want to go to bed."
"Rose, we just woke up." Hermione looked at her confused.
"Quidditch bores me."
—-
"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through it's paces now, see it turn—Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision—balance is really noticeable in these long—"
"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMRNTARY!"
Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead—if Cho got the Snitch before him, Ravenclaw would win. Harry dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, scanning the field frantically—a glint of gold, a flutter of tiny wings—the Snitch was circling the Gryffindor goal post...
Harry accelerated, eyes fixed on the speck of gold ahead—but just then, Cho appeared out of thin air, blocking him—
"HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" Wood roared as Harry swerved to avoid a collision. "KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!"
Harry turned and caught sight of Cho; she was grinning. The Snitch had vanished again. Harry turned his Firebolt upward and was soon Twenty feet above the game. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cho following him...She'd decided to mark him rather than search for the Snitch herself...All right, then...if she wanted to tail him, she'd have to take the consequences...
He dived again, and Cho, thinking he'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow; Harry pulled out of the dive very sharply; she hurtled downward; he rose fast as a bullet once more, and then saw it, for the third time—the Snitch was glittering way above the field at the Ravenclaw end.
He was winning, gaining on the snitch with every second—then—
"Oh!" screamed Cho, pointing.
Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at him.
He didn't stop to think. Plunging a hand down the neck of his robes, he whipped out his wand and roared, "Expecto Patronum!"
Something silver-white, something enormus, erupted from the end of his wand. He knew it was shot directly at the Dementors but didn't pause to watch; his mind still miraculously clear, he looked ahead—he was nearly there. He stretched out the hand still grasping his wand and just managed to close his fingers over the small, struggling Snitch.
Madam Hooch's whistle sounded. Harry turned around in midair and saw six scarlet blurs bearing down on him; next moment, the whole team was hugging him so hard he was nearly pulled off his broom. Down below he could hear the roar of the crowd.
Harry finally made it to the ground. Harry got off his broom and looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters—plus Rose—sprinting onto the field, Ron in the lead. Before he knew it, he had been engulfed by the cheering crowd.
"Yes!" Ron yelled, yanking Harry's arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"
"Well done, Harry!" said Percy, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me—"
"Good for you, Harry!" roared Seamus Finnigan.
"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.
"That was quite some Patronus," said a voice in Harry's ear.
Harry turned around to see Professor Lupin, who looked both shaken and pleased.
"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" said Harry excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"
"Er- Harry?" Rose interrupted awkwardly. He turned to her. "That would be because they—er—weren't Dementors. Come and see—"
She and Professor Lupin led Harry out of the crowd until they were able to see the edge of the field.
"You gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright," said Lupin.
Harry stared: lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captian, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall.
"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin—!"
"God damn it." Rose sighed.
"—I shall be speaking to the Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"
If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Ron, who had fought his way through to Harry and Rose's side, doubled up with laughter as they watched Malfoy fighting to extricate himself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.
"Come on, Harry!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now—! Rose, you can come too."
"Right," said Harry, and feeling happier than he had in ages.
"Wait—" Rose stopped him before he could walking.
"What?"
"I never got to congratulate you? I'm not good at this but congratulations, i guess and good job."
"Thanks" he smiled.
"Am i supposed to hug you now?"
"Er— i guess—"
She hugged him, and he felt a lurch in the lower region of his stomach and he was sure it wasn't because of the quidditch match nerves.
—-