The long awaited game between Gryffindor and Slytherin had arrived.
Ron was nervous, he was the Keeper of the team, and he was afraid to ruin it for them. He was a bit clumsy, but he could be really good at it, he just needed a bit more confidence that he could.
"You'll be fantastic, all right? Try eating something, will you?" pleaded Sarah, putting a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. Ron was pale, looking at his plate, and it was unsettling that he didn't want to eat anything.
"I must've been mental to do this," he said in a croaky whisper, "Mental."
"Don't be thick," reassured Harry, "You'll do fine. It's normal to be nervous."
"I'm rubbish. I'm lousy, can't even play to save my life. What was I thinking?" whimpered Ron again and Sarah and Harry exchanged a worried look.
"Get a grip," said Harry, "Look at that save you made with your foot the other day, even Fred and George said it was brilliant."
Ron's face seemed to fall apart as he looked up at him, "That was an accident, I didn't mean to do it. I slipped off my broom when none of you were looking and when I was trying to get back on I kicked the Quaffle by accident. "
Harry seemed to be quite disappointed in that.
"Well, look at it this way," said Sarah, "a few more accidents like that and the game's won, isn't it?"
Ginny and Hermione sat down next to them, "How are you feeling?" asked Ginny and Harry looked up at her, "He's just nervous."
"Well it's a good sign, I find it useful to be a bit nervous before an exam," said Hermione, and Sarah nodded, although the others didn't react much to her statement.
"Hello," said a dreamy voice behind them, "I'm supporting Gryffindor."
It was Luna Lovegood, wearing a giant lion head as she sat down next to them, "Look what it does."
The lion head roared in what Sarah fathomed was a really realistic imitation of a lion's roar and they all flinched, staring at it with wide eyes.
Angelina came in then, announcing they should get going, and they all got up, and walked to the stadium. It was a bit frisky, in late November, it was expected. Sarah walked with Angelina until she saw the Quidditch team all dressed in their uniforms, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of Fred that she quickly dismissed. She walked towards Ron and Harry, and to her surprise, Ron looked a bit better than before, seeming as though Hermione's peck was beneficial.
She grabbed his shoulders, "You ready?"
He hesitantly shook his head.
"Well, too bad, because you have to be. You can do this."
Ron's lips curled a bit and he walked forward, with a small whimper.
Harry tugged on her sleeve and whispered, "I think the Slytherins are up to something. I just saw a banner in their changing rooms that said 'Weasley is our king' and I've got a bad feeling about this. We can't let Ron be thrown off his game any more than he's already done himself."
"Okay-Um," she tried searching her mind of all the possibilities of the match going wrong, and she nodded forcefully, "You just focus on catching the snitch, I'll keep an eye out for their schemes."
Harry nodded gratefully and she sent him on his way after wishing him good luck. She walked to reach the twins, too, trying to set her arm around them, but that was impossible, she simply reached up to grab their shoulders, "Hey."
Fred looked down at her, and realized she was touching his shoulder and for some reason that didn't at all calm him down at all. But that couldn't be right. He isn't nervous, of course he isn't. She's his friend, his best friend, and she's touching his shoulder, everything's fine. He absolutely did not start freaking out because Sarah McCauley was touching his shoulder.
"Kick their arse," she said looking out into the field, Angelina was waiting for the go ahead of Madam Hooch. George put on a determined face and nodded.
"Good luck," she said, gave their shoulders a gentle squeeze and she scurried back to her seat on the benches.
"What's with you?" asked George, turning to his brother, who was staring right ahead, "You look as red as your uniform, right now."
Fred cleared his throat and shrugged, adjusting his gloves and sleeves, "A bit stressed, that's all. Worried about the boils."
George glanced back at where Sarah left and hummed suspiciously, because the boils had been cured for a few days, thanks to the Murtlap Essence, and Fred kept glancing at his shoulder.
Sarah zipped her jacket up fully and sat on the bench next to Selena and Hermione, with Ginny not far from them. They were waiting for the Quidditch team to enter, and Madam Hooch made the teams enter and the captains approach each other. Angelina shook hands with Montague, the team mounted their brooms and the whistle blew, setting the game to its start.
The Quaffle flew upwards and the fourteen players up flew up to it. Lee started his commenting, always as entertaining, "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."
Sarah and Selena snorted, remembering the times Angelina came back to their dorms to tell them what Lee had tried again.
"Do you think he'll ever give up trying?" asked Selena and Sarah shook her head, "Although, maybe when she starts dating Alexander. They've gotten close, haven't they?"
Selena nodded, "Yeah, I think Angelina is likely prioritizing Quidditch, but I can't think of a reason why this would upset AZ."
"They'd be lovely," said Sarah, watching the Quaffle get passed around the players of the team.
And then, they heard it. The singing.
Weasley cannot save a thing
He cannot block a single ring
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King!
That's what Harry warned her about, she looked at Hermione, Ginny and Selena and they all stood up from their places, trying to think of something to do.
Ron was gripping onto his broom, and Sarah just knew he was getting blurry-eyed.
"What are they doing?" shouted Hermione angrily, "This is outrageous!"
Slytherin scored then, "That's ten-nil to Slytherin- bad luck Ron," commented Lee. And the Slytherin chant became louder.
"He's not helping at all," hissed Selena, frowning between the Slytherin benches and Lee. "Can't we do something to shut them up?"
Weasley was born in a bin
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley cannot save a thing
"I don't think we can shut them up, just undermine them. Follow my lead." Sarah stepped forward and climbed on the rail to be more visible by the others farther away and set her wand on her neck to amplify her voice and started shouting in a rhythm that matched the Slytherin song so the lyrics get confused.
Ron! Ron! Ron! Ron!
Selena did the same thing and were quickly all joined by the people around them, then all the Gryffindors on the benches, quickly sounding out the Slytherin crowd. Luna made her lion roar, too, and Slytherin was in possession of the Quaffle again.
Ron! Ron! Ron! Ron!
He doesn't let the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King!
The whole crowd started chanting Ron's name then, becoming one, synchronized and loud sound.
"The Gryffindors are fighting back, encouraging their Keeper, we've heard Sarah McCauley's lovely voice thanks to a Sonorus charm. The Quaffle gets past to Warrington again," bellowed Lee.
Ron! Ron! Ron! Ron!
The Quaffle went straight towards the lower ring and Ron dived, trying to stop it with his hands and what Sarah deemed as an accident, he pushed it away with the end of his broom.
"That's still ten-nil to Slytherin!" A loud cheer erupts from Gryffindor then, and they continue chanting
Weasley is our King!
He doesn't let the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King!
Sarah could still hear some chants from the Slytherins players and their crowd. Those thugs were despicable, resorting to emotional distress, it was disgusting.
Weasley! Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!
She continued shouting, not resting although Ron let in the Quaffle again a couple more times.
Ron! Ron! Ron! Ron!
Weasley is our King!
He doesn't let the Quaffle in
"Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on now, Angelina - Gryffindor score! It's forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle-The Gryffindor chant is getting louder!"
Weasley! Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!
Not long after that, Harry caught the snitch, sending the whole Gryffindor side into a loud, deafening cheer, Sarah and the girls all hugged in joy, jumping up and down and clapping the players.
They'd made their way down already, leaving the cheers to die down on their own after a couple minutes.
"Let's go congratulate them," said Selena and she and Sarah walked down to meet the team. But they heard Malfoy's sickening voice and dropped their happy faces, approached the tent more determined now.
"We wanted to write another couple verses! But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly, we wanted to sing about his mother, see."
They pushed inside to find the Gryffindor Quidditch team all tensed up and glaring at Malfoy.
Malfoy sneered, "Did you enjoy my lyrics, McCauley?" saying her name like it was an insult, as he always did.
"Were those yours? Should've known from the lack of taste," spat Sarah, shooting Malfoy a disgusted look.
"We couldn't fit in useless loser either for his father you know," continued Malfoy and that's when Fred and George stiffened because they realized what he was talking about. They tried to step forward, Angelina grabbed his arm, "Leave him, Fred, he's just sore he lost."
He seemed to be frozen in place then, wanting to move forward because that scum had insulted his parents again, and he glanced at Sarah who was resisting the urge to jump at his neck, too.
Malfoy chuckled sickly at Harry and Sarah, "- but you like the Weasleys, don't you, you two? Spend holidays there and everything. Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, and that half-breed freak, werewolf creature, even the Weasleys' hovel smells OK-"
Sarah took a step closer to him, and Fred lunged forward but was held by Alicia, Angelina and Katie. Harry grabbed a hold of George and Selena moved hesitantly in-between them, in case any of them decided to do something stupid.
"What did you just say?" asked Sarah, her gaze darkening every second she spent it on Malfoy.
"How sick to see you care about him, or should I say it," he leered.
She could feel her blood start boiling, categorizing in her mind the hexes she knows, the worst kind, the kind that could ruin his life forever and get her expelled. Selena grabbed her hand to keep her from moving forward, "That's exactly what he wants you to do," she whispered to Sarah.
"What are you going to do, now? Flick your wand and Transfigurate me?" he sneered again, mocking her threat from three years ago. Must've mattered, though, since he remembered it so clearly.
She shook her head slowly, fixating him in a way that, although he tried to hide it, made him uneasy, "Oh, no. I'm fine with just cracking your skull, actually. I don't need magic for that."
She tried to lunge towards him, and Malfoy flinched, but Selena's grasp on her arm tightened, making her unable to do anything but shoot out daggers through her gaze.
"Like I said, sick. It makes one wonder what kind of other problems you have. How did you get that mark on your arm? Must be some creature, too. Must run in the family to be a freak."
She was vaguely aware of some loud grunts coming from behind her, someone struggling to get out of her friends' grasps, she was seeing nothing but black. How dared he speak of her parents?
"That's why you're always around the Weasleys. Missing the stank of that Mudblood and Blood traitor mothers of yours, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it-"
From then, it took only a second for the picture to change, George and Harry were now punching Malfoy and Sarah was the one to hold Selena so she doesn't get herself hurt by jumping after George.
"George!" shouted Selena in Sarah's ear and she had to dug her feet into the ground to keep her still. Alicia, Katie and Angelina were trying to hold Fred back, as he kept trying to push past them, slurring and shouting at Malfoy.
There were screams, yells, swears, then a whistle blew and when Harry and George didn't stop hitting Malfoy, they got thrown back from him, "Impedimenta!"
"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch.
George had a split lip, blood spluttering throughout his mouth and Fred was still being held by the girls, but he wanted to reach George now to make sure he was okay. Malfoy was on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody.
"I've never seen behaviour like it - back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"
George passed Selena who looked at his split lip horrified, and he gave her a quick nod, "I'm fine."
She sighed and watched him and Harry walk away, Sarah turned to Fred, finally out of their friends' grasps, red-faced and clenched fists.
They locked eyes, both fuming and wishing for Malfoy's spine to break, and they knew that what George and Harry had done will not go unpunished, just as Malfoy's abominable words will be deemed as non-excusable for their actions and he'll walk away, again.
_
Sarah was staying with Angelina and Selena, trying to comfort her at the prospect of having three members of her team kicked out. Umbridge interfered with McGonagall's punishment, banning Harry, George and Fred from the Quidditch team, confiscated their brooms. Harry and George hadn't returned, Fred and Alicia went after them, but she came back alone with the information. Fred must have hung back at the Infirmary for Harry and George, they'd had taken some serious hits to the face.
"I've heard wind of people who would totally show up if you set up tryouts for Beaters and Seeker," said Selena, gently rubbing Angelina's back.
"I know," breathed out Angelina, still staring numbly in front of her.
Sarah knew people who'd want to be part of the Quidditch team, but truth was, and she knew the reason Angelina was so downcast. Harry, Fred and George were the best.
"I'm sorry, Angie." Sarah's face furrowed, completely furious at this whole situation, the banishment wasn't necessary at all. Once again, Umbridge won the award for the most horrendous witch alive. "It'll be fine, you're a great captain, the team will be f-" her eyes shot up. "Fred-"
He came in with George's arm around him, he seemed to walk just fine. But his face wasn't fine, it was worse than George's earlier.
Sarah jumped up the second she saw him, gestured for George to lead him on the couch, "Weasley, what happened?"
Angelina and Selena stepped aside, letting him fall on the couch, "Ran into Pucey, Crab and Goyle. They had some thoughts on the game. I shoved Goyle, no one was around and they jumped on the opportunity."
"Three on one?! Why aren't you in McGonagall's office right now, then?" asked Sarah urgently, really concerned for Fred right now.
"I broke Pucey's nose, who do you think they'll believe? We're already walking on thin ice, I'm not going to Madam Pomfrey, I'll have to explain. Ah-" he winced, bringing a hand to his bloody lip.
"Can you do something, Sarah?" asked George, a bit uneasy at the sight of Fred, too.
"Of course," she gently set her hands on the sides of Fred's face, "God, of course. I'll be right back."
She ran up and grabbed the box of treatments, grateful she decided to bring it along.
"So you're like a Healer, now?" asked George when she made her way back towards the couch.
"No, George, I'll be a Trainee Healer next year, if I get into the program-"
"If?" blurted Fred disbelievingly, then winced because of his wounds.
"You never know," she eyed him quickly, "But I do have a diploma from the Academy in Ireland that states I'm allowed to use the contents of this box to tend to people." She looked at Fred and smacked his hand away from his face, "Stop touching your wounds, you'll get an infection." He pouted and crossed his arms, fixating on some far away spot in the room.
Everybody sat down, venting one after the other. Sarah set some pieces of cloth in a little bowl of water to soak so she can clean up the blood.
She gently guided Fred's head so she can analyze the wounds. He had a busted lip, split open his cheekbone, and bleeding from the bridge of his nose.
"Relax, I know what I'm doing," said Sarah, watching how his eyes went wide and now kept moving in every direction.
"I know you do-" said Fred anxiously. "It just stings."
"I haven't even started," she retorted, reaching into the box, searching for the Dittany and disinfectant. "Shut up and fight through the pain, alright?"
She nudged his face down and started cleaning the blood from his nose, then set a drop of Dittany and observed the small line of red started to close up, and moved on to his cheek.
She glanced at him and saw him look up at her intently, "What?" she asked nervously, concentrating on cleaning the wound, not how close she was to him, definitely not thinking about that.
He looked away and shook his head slightly, "Nothing."
She took a wet piece of cloth and wiped away the blood from the side of his face, ignoring that his gaze and the fact that her hands were touching his face and her knees were brushing over his were making her heart race.
"You're good at this," said Fred, the corner of his mouth curling up.
She was grateful he'd talked, she could concentrate on something else other than those crazy rushing thoughts. "Well, I should hope so. I was second, actually debatably first, in my class this summer," she said confidently, taking the Dittany again.
"You smug pain in the arse," he chided with a smirk.
She chuckled then, held his gaze for a few moments before resuming to applying the Essence on his cheek. He'd meant it as an insult the first time he said it years ago, but it became some endearing calling, because she'd top it with 'presumptuous git' and they'd both grin.
And she felt her heart flutter again, so she decided to completely focus on closing up his cheekbone. She ordered herself not to break that focus, especially when she moved on to his lip. She took a wet piece of cloth to wipe away the blood and took some paste to set on it, dabbed it with her finger.
The unbreakable focus didn't apply to Fred though.
Act cool, Fred. Act cool, act cool, act cool.
Because all those people talking in that common room, himself included, had absolutely no idea what was going on in his mind.
The borders of his mind were completely altered. He never thought it would cross certain borders when it came to her, strangely enough it crossed them for her only.
He looked away but kept being drawn back to her, she was too close, he couldn't help it, now.
He wanted the people around to leave, he wanted her to lock eyes with him and not look away, he wanted to call her by her first name and watch how her forehead wrinkled in surprise. He wanted to say something to annoy her, to make her smile, to make her blush. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, bring her down next to him on this couch, he wanted...He wanted.
"Okay, here's the deal," she said, "I can't use Dittany on your lip, if it ends up on your tongue and in your mouth, we'll have to bid you farewell. This paste I put on, it's safe. It takes longer to heal because the tissue is more sensitive. Apply it again before you go to sleep, tomorrow it'll look like new. All right?"
She set back the Dittany and disinfectant but he didn't answer, "Fred?"
He snapped back to reality, "Yeah. Before sleep, got it."
Sarah nodded, sat back on the couch. Angelina was unconsolable, she went up to her dorm, followed by her friends and dorm-mates, everybody deciding it was time to call it a night, sleep this awful day off.
Sarah was about to leave when she heard a muffled groan from Fred, trying to get up from the couch and ended up falling back.
"What's wrong?" she asked, already thinking of all the ways his wounds might have effected him on other ends.
He was clutching his stomach, leaned back on the couch. Her heart seemed to stop again, he was still hurt. She sat closer and pressed gently on his side.
"Blimey! McCauley," he grunted, putting an arm around him.
"You must've bruised your ribs, did they kick you?" she asked worriedly.
Fred shrugged, "I don't remember, maybe some knees were involved, punches were flying, I-"
"Lift your shirt," she ordered, fumbling through her flasks and whatever she had to treat an internal bruise.
Fred's heart skipped a beat, "What?"
"I need to see what I can do. Up," assessed Sarah, and she realized what she'd just said. It definitely shouldn't have had the effect it did. It meant nothing, she was tending to a wound of his. She did this countless times over the summer, bruised ribs, wounds, and all kinds of magical injuries.
"You want me to take my shirt off. In the Gryffindor common room," spoke Fred disbelievingly.
"You wish, Weasley. I said lift," she tried to speak as causally as possible and set her bag on the ground, because nothing inside would work in this case scenario. But she had her wand. If it looked too bad, she could bandage it.
"It's good you're seated. People would kill for this kind of view," teased Fred, trying to make light of this situation that made him strangely nervous, which was definitely new to him.
She rolled her eyes, cursing herself for blushing right now. "How modest of you, really. I can't think of a person who would, though," she mocked.
The corner of his mouth went up and he showed her his side, it was pretty bruised. She ignored any part of skin that didn't actually have a bruise, gently pressed again on several spots that to Fred seemed random but she knew what she was doing.
She'd heard a muffled grunt of pain every time, and at the last press he inhaled sharply, like the pain had knocked the air out of his lungs. She delicately set her hand over it, trying to appease the hurting however she could and nibbled on the inside of her cheek. It's broken. An inch above and it would have perforated a vital organ, I wouldn't have known how to fix it. Fred could've bled out internally, he could've died. Because of a stupid game of Quidditch, he could've died. That's when she forgot to breathe.
She must've said all that out loud, because he chuckled softly and said, "I'm fine."
"I'm fine, McCauley," he said again, and he looked at her, saw in her eyes how she was spiraling, seeing someone she cares about bloodied up, and hurting, feeling powerless before the threat, again.
He took her hand in his, "Sarah, I'm fine."
Her eyes shot up to meet his, and she froze for a few seconds, realizing that she hadn't taken a full breath in a while.
Fred brushed over the back of her hand with his thumb, reassuring her in a way, and she glanced down at their joined hands, heart and mind racing again.
He slowly let go, "Uh-Sorry-"
"No, it's-" she uttered nervously and cleared her throat, glancing up at him then got out her wand. "...Fine."
"Ferula" she said and a bandage wrapped around his middle, and he let out a breath of relief, throwing his head on the back of the couch. "That's amazing," he marveled, looking down at the bandage.
She smiled softly, "You'll be fine."
She taught him how to do the spell, so he can change it regularly for the next couple days, it should heal shortly. She handed him the little box with the paste for his lip, pointed at it, "Before I go to sleep," said Fred before she could.
"Exactly," she breathed out and reached down to gather everything she'd used to make it vanish.
"Thank you, McCauley, really," he watched how she moved and tidied her things.
"Don't mention it. Just try to not come in with your face messed up again, all right?"
Fred was entranced with the sight of her, how absolutely incredible she was. How she knew what to do and remained focused and calm all throughout. He had trouble getting over her touch, over how he felt when she was so close, his mind starting a whirlwind daydream that was all about her.
She reached up to brush over his closed wounds, "Get some sleep, Weasley. It'll feel less bitter in the morning."
"You, too, McCauley," he whispered, getting up from the couch with nothing but a mild pain that went away almost immediately. His best friend Sarah McCauley truly was incredible.
She nodded briefly, looking over his face, grateful he was fine, now, "In a minute."
Fred made his way to his dorm, reluctantly leaving her behind, but he knew she needed a moment.
Harry and Hermione had stayed behind in a corner, talking. Sarah turned to them, "Have you seen Ron?" she asked in a low voice.
They shook their heads. "I think he's avoiding us," said Hermione. "Where do you think he -?"
But at that precise moment, the portrait hole opened and Ron came in, looking pale and with snow in his hair. When he saw them, he immediately froze in place.
"Where have you been?" said Hermione anxiously, springing up.
"Walking," Ron mumbled, he was still wearing his Quidditch uniform.
"You look frozen, Ron," said Sarah, "Come and sit down."
Ron walked to the fireside and sank into the chair furthest from Harry's, not looking at him.
"Im sorry," Ron mumbled, looking at his feet.
"What for?" said Harry.
"For thinking I can play Quidditch," said Ron. "I'm going to resign first thing tomorrow."
Harry glanced back at Sarah and Hermione then frowned at Ron.
"If you resign," said Harry testily, "there'll only be three players left on the team. And when Ron looked puzzled, he said, "I've been given a lifetime ban. So've Fred and George."
"What?" Ron yelped.
Hermione and Sarah told him the full story; Harry could not bear to tell it again. When they 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 terrible at Ouidditch-"
"-it's got nothing to do with that."
"-it was that song that wound me up-" Ron quickly glanced at Sarah and contorted his face is something that looked like a timid gratefulness, like he said, 'Thank you for trying'.
Hermione and Sarah got up and walked to the window, away from the argument, watching the snow swirling down against the pane and saw a small light over the hill at Hagrid's house. They smiled, thinking of how much they'd missed him and turned to the boys.
"This is the worst I've ever felt in my life."
"Join the club," said Harry bitterly.
"Well," said Hermione and Sarah, making them look up. "We know of one thing that might cheer you both up," said Hermione.
"Oh yeah?" said Harry skeptically.
"Yeah," said Sarah, turning away from the pitch -black, snow flecked window, a broad smile spreading across her face. "Hagrid's back."
The four of them hid beneath the Invisibility Cloak and went to see Hagrid. He'd told them where he'd been and asked them to keep quiet about it. He was searching for Giants, delivering them a message from Dumbledore, trying to get them to join them in the fight against Voldemort, only the situation had become more complicated. Hagrid wasn't the only one asking.
"Death Eaters?" asked Ron, and Hagrid nodded.
"So, Voldemort's building his army," whispered Sarah, with concern.
"Rebuilding it, just like last time," said Hagrid, putting some cold meat on his scratches. Sarah reached into her pocket, handed him a flask.
"Here, apply this after washing the wounds, tomorrow it'll look better, hurt a lot less, too."
He gave her a grateful nod, "Coming along as a Healer, are you? Thank you."
"Anytime," she smiled softly and asked some followup questions.
Voldemort was building back his army, which meant he will surely go after whatever he 'didn't have last time' shortly. Time was ticking, they needed to be prepared to fight, defend themselves, ready the others, too. They had to find a place to start training.