I walked out of yet another detention, I can't even remember what this one was for not that I minded today as it was during a D.A. meeting so I knew there was no chance of any of them getting caught by Umbridge if she was supervising me. Hermione had created a method of communicating the time and date for the next meeting for all the members. She gave each of the members of the D.A. a fake Galleon that the numbers around the edge change to show the next meeting and time. I head towards the Gryffindor towel and find the twins waiting for me when I return to the common room.
"Come on" George says putting an arm around my shoulder and directing me to their dorm. He pushes me towards his bed and places my hand in a bowl of a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles. It had become a new routine for us with how many detentions Umbridge was giving me. I hadn't told Charlie about it and had made the twins swear to keep quiet. Harry only knew about todays detention because of me missing the meeting.
"Thank you Georgie" I rest my head on his shoulder as he sits beside me whilst Fred sits on his bed before getting up and grabbing a bar of chocolate from his trunk and handing it to me. "Thank's Freddie" He smiles at me before sitting back down.
"Rory we think you need to tell an adult about these detentions" Fred says looking at me.
"What's the point Freddie, Dumbledore clearly knows and he's not doing anything about it so what chance do the others stand" We sit in silence not saying much for the rest of the night as I fall asleep on Georges bed again, which has become a reoccurring thing lately.
As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, their D.A. meetings were put on hold because Angelina 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. The Ravenclaws 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, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretence of sportsmanship, were determined to see their side's victory. McGonagall even abstained from giving out homework in the week leading up to the match.
"I think you've got enough to be getting on with at the moment," she said loftily. Nobody could quite believe their ears until she looked directly at the twins and Angelina and said grimly, "I've become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study and I really don't want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape, so use the extra time to practice, won't you?" Snape was no less obviously partisan: He had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in the corridors. When Alicia turned up in the hospital wing with her eyebrows growing so thick and fast that they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth, Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair-Thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to the fourteen eyewitnesses who insisted that they had seen the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, hit her from behind with a jinx while she worked in the library. Angelina was constantly on edge as we walked between classes.
October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly grey, the mountains around Hogwarts became snow capped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons. I was having at least one detention a week if not more. The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. I made my way to the Great Hall with the twins, the talk louder and the mood more exuberant than usual. As any members of the team passed the Slytherin table there was an upsurge of noise, nearly everyone there was wearing, in addition to the usual green-and-silver scarves and hats, silver badges in the shape of what seemed to be crowns. For some reason many of them waved at Ron, laughing uproariously as he walked past with Harry. They received a rousing welcome at the Gryffindor table, where everyone was wearing red and gold, but far from raising Ron's spirits the 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," Harry said 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?"
"Get a grip," Harry said sternly. "Look at that save you made with your foot the other day, even Fred and George said it was brilliant" Ron turned a tortured face to Harry.
"That was an accident," he whispered miserably. "I didn't mean to do it I slipped off my broom when none of you were looking and I was trying to get back on and I kicked the Quaffle by accident."
"You'll do fine Ron, you just need to believe in yourself" I told him from across the table.
"Thanks Rory" He smiled at me.
"Hello," said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them. 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's head, which was perched precariously on her head. "I'm supporting Gryffindor," said Luna, pointing unnecessarily at her hat. "Look what it does." She reached up and tapped the hat with her wand. It opened its mouth wide and gave an extremely realistic roar that made everyone in the vicinity jump. "It's good, isn't it?" said Luna happily. "I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway good luck, Ronald!" She drifted away. We hadn't quite recovered from the shock of Luna's hat before Angelina came hurrying toward us, accompanied by Katie and Alicia, whose eyebrows had mercifully been returned to normal by Madam Pomfrey.
"When you're ready," she said, "we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions and change."
"Good luck you two" I said to Harry and Ron as I get up to leave the hall with the twins. "Good luck" I give them both a hug as they leave me to head to the Quidditch pitch whilst I head up to the Gryffindor tower. The frosty grass crunched under my feet as I walked down to the Quidditch pitch with Lee. There was no wind at all and the sky was a uniform pearly white. Lee headed off to his job of telling us what was happening during the game even though he did show a lot of favouritism to Gryffindor's. As I reached the Gryffindor stand I some people were singing coming from the Slytherins. I saw the Gryffindor team marching in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them in which the singing could still heard, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles. The Slytherin team were standing waiting for them. The new Slytherin captain, Montague, was built along the same lines as Dudley, with massive forearms like hairy hams. Behind him lurked Crabbe and Goyle, almost as large, blinking stupidly in the sunlight, swinging their new Beaters' bats. Malfoy stood to one side, the sunlight gleaming on his white blond head. I saw him smirking at Harry.
"Captains shake hands," ordered Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reached each other. Montague was clearly trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she did not wince. "Mount your brooms." Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew. The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward, Ron streak off toward the goal hoops. Harry zoomed higher, dodging a Bludger, and set off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a glint of gold; on the other side of the stadium, Draco Malfoy was doing exactly the same.
"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me"
"JORDAN!" yelled Professor McGonagall making me laugh.
"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's ouch been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe. Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away" Lee Jordan's commentary rang through the stadium "dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger close call, Alicia and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?" And as Lee paused to listen the song rose loud and clear from the sea 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, it was obvious Lee was trying to drown out the sound of the singing. "Come on now, Angelina looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! — SHE SHOOTS SHE aaaah" Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it, zigzagging in between Alicia and Katie; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Ron.
Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King.
I saw Harry turn his Firebolt toward Ron, a lone figure at the far end of the pitch, hovering before the three goal hoops while the massive Warrington pelted toward him.
"and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, 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, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!" But the scream of delight came from the Slytherin end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them, straight through Ron's central hoop. "Slytherin score!" came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin bad luck, Ron" 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 Katie Bell tanking up the pitch" cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN, WEASLEY IS OUR KING
"Harry, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I heard Angelina scream as she soared past Harry to keep up with Katie. "GET GOING!" Harry had been stationary in mid air for more than a minute, watching the progress of the match without sparing a thought for the whereabouts of the Snitch as he went into a dive and started circling the pitch again, staring around. Malfoy was still circling the stadium just like Harry. They passed midway around the pitch going in opposite directions.
"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 Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell er drops it too so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he's off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!" I saw Harry zooming around the end of the stadium behind the Slytherin goal hoops.
"and Pucey's dodged Alicia again, and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!" There was a terrible groan from the Gryffindor end, coupled with fresh screams and applause from the Slytherins. Ron let in two more goals. "and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on now Angelina — GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's forty-ten, fortyten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle." Luna's ludicrous lion hat could be heard roaring amidst the Gryffindor cheers. Harry ducked the Bludger that Crabbe had sent rocketing in his direction and resumed his frantic scouring of the pitch for the Snitch "Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey, Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good I mean bad Bell's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possession again" Harry started to dive and in a matter of seconds, Malfoy was streaking out of the sky on Harry's left, a green-and-silver blur lying flat on his broom. The Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goal hoops and scooted off toward the other side of the stands; its change of direction suited Malfoy, who was nearer. Harry pulled his Firebolt around, he and Malfoy were now neck and neck. Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching toward the Snitch to his right, Malfoy's arm extended too, reaching, groping. It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds. Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball before Harry pulled his broom upward, holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval. They were saved, it did not matter that Ron had let in those goals, nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won. WHAM! A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forward off his broom; luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch, but he was winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch. I ran down the pitch to him .
"Harry you okay"
" 'Course I am," Harry said grimly, taking my hand I was holding out for him and allowing me to pull him to his feet. Madam Hooch was zooming toward one of the Slytherin players above him, though he could not see who it was at this angle.
"It was that thug, Crabbe," Angelina said angrily as she came over. "He whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch but we won, Harry, we won!" We heard a snort behind us and turned to find Draco Malfoy had landed close by; white-faced with fury, he was still managing to sneer.
"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper but then he was born in a bin. Did you like my lyrics, Potter?" Harry didn't answer; he turned away to meet 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, as Katie and Alicia hugged Harry. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly we wanted to sing about his mother, see"
"Talk about sour grapes," Angelina said, casting Malfoy a disgusted look.
"we couldn't fit in useless loser either for his father, you know" Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand they stiffened, looking around at Malfoy.
"Leave it," Angelina said 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, Potters?" said Malfoy, sneering. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay" Harry grabbed 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. Madam Hooch 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's pigsty reminds you of it" without warning I'd punched Malfoy in the face just as Harry released George. Harry drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy's stomach
"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO !" The girls' voices were screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing, and the bellowing of the crowd around us until somebody in the vicinity yelled "IMPEDIMENTA!" and only when Harry was knocked over backward by the force of the spell did he abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach.
"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry 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 wand in the other, her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Malfoy was curled 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 behaviour like it back up to the castle, all three of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!" She pointed at me, Harry and George as we marched off the pitch, not saying a word to each other. The howling and jeering of the crowd grew fainter and fainter until we reached the entrance hall, where we could hear nothing except the sound of our own footsteps. We had barely reached the door of Professor McGonagall's office when she came marching along the corridor behind us. She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf, but tore it from her throat with shaking hands as she strode toward us, looking livid.
"In!" she said furiously, pointing to the door. We all entered. She strode around behind her desk and faced them, quivering with rage as she threw the Gryffindor scarf aside onto the floor. "Well?" she said. "I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. First you punch him" She points at me "And then you two fight him two onto one! Explain yourselves!"
"Malfoy provoked us," Harry said stiffly.
"Provoked you?" shouted Professor McGonagall, slamming a fist onto her desk so that her tartan biscuit tin slid sideways off it and burst open, littering the floor with Ginger Newts. "He'd just lost, hadn't he, of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you two"
"He insulted my parents," snarled George. "And their's mother."
"But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you three decided to give an exhibition of Muggle duelling, did you?" bellowed Professor McGonagall. "Have you any idea what you've?"
"Hem, hem." We all spun around. Dolores Umbridge was standing in the doorway wrapped in a green tweed cloak that greatly enhanced her resemblance to a giant toad, and smiling in the horribly sickly, ominous way that Harry had come to associate with imminent misery. "May I help, Professor McGonagall?" asked Professor Umbridge in her most poisonously sweet voice. Blood rushed into Professor McGonagall's face.
"Help?" she repeated in a constricted voice. "What do you mean, 'help'?" Professor Umbridge moved forward into the office, still smiling her sickly smile.
"Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority." I wouldn't have been surprised to see sparks fly from Professor McGonagall's nostrils. "You thought wrong," she said, turning her back on Umbridge. "Now, you three had better listen closely. I do not care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behaviour was disgusting and I am giving each of you a week's worth of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if any of you ever"
"Hem, hem." Professor McGonagall closed her eyes as though praying for patience as she turned her face toward Professor Umbridge again.
"Yes?"
"I think they deserve rather more than detentions," said Umbridge, smiling still more broadly. Professor McGonagall's eyes flew open.
"But unfortunately," she said, with an attempt at a reciprocal smile that made her look as though she had lockjaw, "it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores."
"Well, actually, Minerva," simpered Umbridge, "I think you'll find that what I think does count. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it. I mean," she gave a little false laugh as she rummaged in her handbag, "the Minister just sent it. Ah yes." She had pulled out a piece of parchment that she now unfurled, clearing her throat fussily before starting to read what it said. "Hem, hem . . . 'Educational Decree Number Twenty-five' "
"Not another one!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall violently.
"Well, yes," said Umbridge, still smiling. "As a matter of fact, Minerva, it was you who made me see that we needed a further amendment. You remember how you overrode me, when I was unwilling to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch team to re-form? How you took the case to Dumbledore, who insisted that the team be allowed to play? Well, now, I couldn't have that. I contacted the Minister at once, and he quite agreed with me that the High Inquisitor has to have the power to strip pupils of privileges, or she that is to say, I would have less authority than common teachers! And you see now, don't you, Minerva, how right I was in attempting to stop the Gryffindor team re-forming? Dreadful tempers. Anyway, I was reading out our amendment . . . hem, hem 'The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc.' " She rolled up the parchment and put it back into her handbag, still smiling. "So I really think I will have to ban these two from playing Quidditch ever again," she said, looking from Harry to George and back again.
"Ban us?" Harry said, and his voice sounded strangely distant. "From playing . . . ever again?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick," said Umbridge, her smile widening still further as she watched him struggle to comprehend what she had said. "You and Mr. Weasley here. And I think, to be safe, this young man's twin ought to be stopped too if his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well. I will want their broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. But I am not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall," she continued, turning back to Professor McGonagall who was now standing as still as though carved from ice, staring at her. "The rest of the team can continue playing, I saw no signs of violence from any of them. And as for you miss Potter I think a weeks worth of detentions will make you realise violence isn't the answer. My office tomorrow evening at 6. Well good afternoon to you." And with a look of the utmost satisfaction Umbridge left the room, leaving a horrified silence in her wake.
"Banned," Angelina said 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 did not feel as though they had won the match at all. Everywhere I looked there were disconsolate and angry faces; the team themselves were slumped around the fire, all apart from Ron, who had not been seen since the end of the match.
"It's just so unfair," Alicia said numbly. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?"
"No," Ginny said miserably; she and Hermione were sitting on either side of Harry. "He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner."
"And I bet they'll be normal lines" I mutter.
"And banning Fred when he didn't even do anything!" Alicia said furiously, pummelling her knee with her fist.
"It's not my fault I didn't," Fred said, with a very ugly look on his face. "I would've pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn't been holding me back." I placed my head on his shoulder as he leant into me slightly. Harry was staring miserably at the dark window. Snow was falling. The Snitch he had caught earlier was now zooming around and around the common room; people were watching its progress as though hypnotized and Crookshanks was leaping from chair to chair, trying to catch it.
"I'm going to bed," Angelina said, getting slowly to her feet. "Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet." She was soon followed by Alicia and Katie. Fred and George sloped off to bed some time later, glowering at everyone they passed pulling me along with them to their dorm.
"So what punishment did you get Rory" Fred said as he flopped onto his bed I laid down next to him.
"A weeks detention with Umbridge"
"You can't be serious you hit him once. Harry and George hit him repeatedly and didn't get detention"
"I'm sorry Ror it's our fault" George says looking over at me.
"No it's not. I chose to punch him" We sit in silence as Lee walks in and over to his bed.
"Night guys" He says as he gets into bed.
"Can I stay with you guys tonight?" I ask the twins.
"Of course you can Rory" Fred says as George throws me a t-shirt and shorts to wear.
"Thanks"