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| A MATCH TO REMEMBER |
song: my songs know what you did by fall out boy.
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"HE SENT US THIS," HERMIONE SAID, holding out the letter.
Ara took it. The parchment was damp, and enormous teardrops had smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very difficult to read.
Dear Hermione and Ara,
We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. The execution date to be fixed. Beaky has enjoyed London.
I won't forget all the help you both gave us.
Hagrid
"They can't do this," said Harry. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."
"But—Malfoy's the one that should have his head cut off!" said Ara, outraged. "He provoked him."
"Malfoy's dad frightened the Committee into it," said Hermione, wiping her eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope. . . Nothing will have changed."
"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, you two. I'll help."
"Oh, Ron!"
Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck and broke down completely. Ron, looking quite terrified, patted her very awkwardly on the top of the head. Finally, Hermione drew away.
"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers. . ." she sobbed.
"Oh — well — he was old," said Ron, looking thoroughly relieved that she had let go of him. "And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."
"About time they made up, don't you think?" whispered Ara happily in Harry's ear.
Harry nodded, smiling at her and putting an arm around her to give her a side hug.
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THE SAFETY MEASURES IMPOSED ON THE STUDENTS SINCE Black's second break-in made it impossible for Ara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Their only chance of talking to him was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.
He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.
"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They were all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin'me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh both looked up fer me, girls. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em. . ."
"There's still the appeal!" said Ron fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"
Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.
"Look at him blubber!"
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.
"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Malfoy. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"
Harry and Ron both made furious moves toward Malfoy, but Hermione and Ara got there first —
SMACK!
Hermione had slapped Malfoy across the face with all the strength she could muster, not two seconds later—
SMACK!
Ara's fist had collided with Malfoy's nose, and blood immediately started to come out of it.
Malfoy staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Ara and Hermione raised their hands again.
"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil —"
"Hermione!" said Ron weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.
"Get off, Ron!"
Harry managed to grab Ara by her arms.
"No, Harry!" said Ara, trashing in Harry's hold. "Let me at him!"
Hermione pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backwards. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.
"C'mon." Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.
Harry finally let go of Ara, and turned to look at her in awe.
"Good punch," whispered Harry weakly.
"Thanks," grinned Ara.
"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.
"Harry, Ara, you both better win in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better have it, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"
"We're due in Charms," said Ron, still goggling at Hermione. "We'd better go."
They hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick's classroom. "You're late, boys, lady!" said Professor Flitwick approvingly as Harry opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs —"
Ara, Harry, and Ron hurried to a desk at the back and opened their bags. Ara looked behind her.
"Where's Hermione?"
Harry and Ron looked around too. Hermione hadn't entered the classroom, yet Harry knew she had been right next to him when he had opened the door.
"That's weird," said Harry, staring at Ara and Ron. "Maybe — maybe she went to the bathroom or something?"
"We always go to the bathroom together," said Ara confused, they never went to the bathroom alone.
The boys just looked at her weirdly but said nothing.
Hermione didn't turn up for the whole lesson.
"She could've done with a Cheering Charm on her too," said Ron as the class left for lunch, all grinning broadly — the Cheering Charms had left them with a feeling of great contentment.
Hermione wasn't at lunch either. By the time they had finished their apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and Ara, Harry, and Ron had started to get slightly worried.
"You don't think Malfoy did something to her?" Ron said anxiously as they hurried upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower.
"I would break every single bone in his body if he did," said Ara, no trace of humour in her tone.
They passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password ("Flibbertigibbet"), and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.
Hermione was sitting at a table, fast asleep, her head resting on an open Arithmancy book. They went to sit down on either side of her. Ara prodded her awake.
"Wh — what?" said Hermione, waking with a start and staring wildly around. "Is it time to go? W — which lesson have we got now?"
"Divination, but it's not for another twenty minutes," said Harry. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"
"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"
"But—how could you forget?" said Ara, frowning. "You were right behind us."
"I don't believe it!" Hermione wailed. "Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!"
"You know what, Hermione?" said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."
"No, I'm not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. "I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry. . . I'll see you in Divination!"
Hermione joined them at the foot of the ladder to Professor Trelawney's classroom twenty minutes later, looking extremely harassed.
"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!"
Together they climbed the ladder into the dim, stifling tower room. Glowing on every little table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Ara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down together at the same rickety table.
"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby.
"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," Ara muttered back. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at mine and Harry's hands, and her saying I will find 'the love of my life'."
"Good day to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces slit by the milky glow of their crystal ball.
"I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," said Professor Trelawney, sitting with her back to the fire and gazing around. "The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."
Hermione snorted.
"Well, honestly. . . 'The fates have informed her'. Who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. Ara, Harry, and Ron choked back laughs.
It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard them as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.
"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to see when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practising relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes —" Ron began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise — "so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will see before the end of the class."
Ara felt stupid, she was just gazing blankly into a Crystal Ball, Harry seemed to be feeling the same and they exchanged annoyed expressions. It didn't help that Ron kept breaking into silent giggles and Hermione kept tutting.
So Ara and Harry began a little game of thumb fighting, Ara won every time, and that made her mood much better as she gloated to Harry about her victories. What she was oblivious to was that Harry had let her win every time; he enjoyed the smile that decorated her face each time.
"Seen anything yet?" Harry asked them after finishing his sixth thump fight with Ara.
"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," said Ron, pointing. "Someone spilled their candle."
"This is such a waste of time," Hermione hissed. "I could be practising something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms —"
Professor Trelawney rustled past.
"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she murmured over the clinking of her bangles.
"I don't need help," Ron whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."
Ara, Harry and Hermione burst out laughing.
"Now, really!" said Professor Trelawney as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalised. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached their table and peered into their crystal ball. Harry felt his heart sinking. He was sure he knew what was coming —
"There is something here!" Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering her face to the ball so that it was reflected twice in her huge glasses. "Something moving. . . but what is it?"
Harry was prepared to bet everything he owned, including his Firebolt, that it wasn't good news, whatever it was. And sure enough —
"My dear," Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Harry. "It is here, plainer than ever before. . . my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer. . . the Gr —"
"Oh, for goodness' sake!" said Hermione loudly. "Not that ridiculous Grim again!"
Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione's face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Hermione too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.
"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane.
There was a moment's silence. Then —
"Fine!" said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. "Fine!" she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"
And to the whole class's amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight. Ara slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from smiling widely as she stared after Hermione, never having expected her outburst.
"I think Ara's slightly rubbing off on her," whispered Ron to Harry, who nodded in agreement.
"As if that's a bad thing," Ara cocked her head to the side.
It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim. She turned abruptly from Ara, Harry and Ron's table, breathing rather heavily as she tugged her gauzy shawl more closely to her.
"Ooooo!" said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. "Ooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? 'Around Easter, one of our numbers will leave us forever!' You said it ages ago, Professor!"
Professor Trelawney gave her a dewy smile.
"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs. . . The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know. . ."
Lavender and Parvati looked deeply impressed and moved over so that Professor Trelawney could join their table instead.
"Some day Hermione's having, eh?" Ron muttered to Harry, looking awed.
"Yeah. . ."
Ara glanced at the crystal ball for a moment, and before she tore her gaze away she saw something, she squinted her eyes. . . It looked like. . .a wolf? It had red stains on its side, it looked awfully similar to her Animagus form.
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THE EASTER HOLIDAYS WERE NOT RELAXING. The third years had never had so much homework. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.
"Call this a holiday!" Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"
But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, and first to arrive at the library the next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes and seemed constantly close to tears.
Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal. When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.
Ara on the other hand was rather busy with Quidditch, the Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. She had to arrange her time, to do homework, study for the exams, and practise Quidditch. She was beyond stressed but still managed.
Harry's situation was similar to Ara's, he had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded his team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.
"So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up," Wood told Harry constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, Haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're —"
"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Harry yelled.
The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley had been Seeker.
Ara's expressions these days were anything but relaxed, she wanted to beat up Malfoy every time she saw him, because of him Hagrid's pet was going to die, Wood kept bothering her about techniques that she already knew, but she just blocked out his voice most of the time so she wouldn't get too irritated.
Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.
Harry and Ara were having a particularly bad time of it. They couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip them up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever they went and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw them surrounded by people. They obviously wanted to take them out so they couldn't play. Harry was the Seeker, one of the most, if not the most important position, and Ara was one of the best Chasers of the school, practically irreplaceable. Wood had given instructions that Harry and Ara should be accompanied everywhere they went, in case the Slytherins tried to put them out of action.
All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.
"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said nervously.
There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself Angelina and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Ara and Harry were sitting with Ron and Hermione, removed from the centre of things, trying not to think about the next day, because every time they did, they had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of their stomachs.
Ara's leg was bouncing up and down as it always did when she was anxious. It was the final match and it was against Slytherin, she wanted nothing more than to win just so she could rub it all over Malfoy's ugly face.
"You're both going to be fine," Hermione told them, though she looked positively terrified.
"You two have got Firebolts!" said Ron.
"Yeah. . ." said Harry, his stomach writhing.
Ara didn't say anything, she felt that if she opened her mouth she might throw up.
It came as a relief when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"
"Night, boys," said Ara, climbing the staircase to her dormitory with Hermione. She was going to hug her black dog plushy and Venus relatively close that night.
"Night, Ara,"
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ARA AND THE REST OF THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. Harry couldn't help grinning broadly as he saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Ara noticed that Malfoy looked even paler than usual.
Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.
"Good luck, Harry!" called Cho. Harry felt himself blushing.
Ara noticed her interaction and her eyebrows furrowed with confusion, but she brushed off her odd feeling.
"Okay — no wind to speak of — sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it— ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kickoff —"
Wood paced the field, staring around with the team behind him. Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spilling onto the lawn.
"Locker rooms," said Wood tersely.
None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. Ara wondered if they were feeling like she was: as though she'd eaten something extremely wriggly for breakfast. In what seemed like no time at all, Wood was saying, "Okay, it's time, let's go —"
Harry pulled Ara into a warm embrace, and whispered, "Good luck, and please be careful with the Bludgers"
"Don't worry, Wonder Boy," Ara whispered back, her voice slightly shaky from the nerves. "Good Luck, you better kick Malfoy's arse."
They chuckled and smiled at each other, patting their backs before following the team.
They walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP." Behind the Slytherin goalposts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.
"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Black, Bell, Johnson, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —"
Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of 'boos' from the Slytherin end.
"And here comes the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the line up and seems to be going for size rather than skill —"
More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Harry, however, thought Lee had a point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person On the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.
"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.
Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hands very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.
"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three. . . two. . . one. . ."
The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. Ara kicked off the ground and headed straight for the Quaffle.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Ara Black of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Ara! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing UP the field — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina — nice swerve around Montague — duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight
"OUCH!"
Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.
"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"
A moment later, Fred chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose mashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.
"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"
"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Ara flew forward to take the penalty.
"Come on, Ara!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Ara quickly fist-bumped into Angelina and Katie as always, with a wide smile on her face.
Meanwhile, Harry turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Flint, still bleeding freely, fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goalposts, his jaw clenched.
"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"
Relieved, Harry zoomed away, gazing around for the Snitch, but still making sure he caught every word of Lee's commentary. It was essential that he hold Malfoy off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty points up —
"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! Gryffindor back in possession and it's Ara Black, Ara Black for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"
Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Ara, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Ara cart-wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.
The twins and Harry wanted nothing more than to hit Montague in the head with a Beater's Bat.
Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Ara had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.
"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —"
"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way —"
"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"
Harry felt a huge jolt of excitement. He had seen the Snitch — it was shimmering at the foot of one of the Gryffindor goalposts — but he mustn't catch it yet — and if Malfoy saw it —
Faking a look of sudden concentration, Harry pulled his Firebolt around and sped off toward the Slytherin end — it worked. Malfoy went after him, clearly thinking Harry had seen the Snitch there. . .
WHOOSH.
One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again. . .
WHOOSH.
The second Bludger grazed Harry's elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.
Harry had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward him, clubs raised — He turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.
"Ha haaa!" yelled Lee Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, Angelina! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession,Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goalpost, come on now, Wood, save —!"
But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.
"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —"
It was turning into the dirtiest game Ara and Harry had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Ara with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation for what he did to his sister. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor
The Snitch had disappeared again. Malfoy was still keeping close to Harry as he soared over the match, looking around for it once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead —
Katie scored. Fifty-ten. Fred and George were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.
Madam Hooch was beside herself —
"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"
And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Ara seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal —seventy-ten.
The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse — Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. And then he saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above him.
Harry put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in his ears; he stretched out his hand, but suddenly, the Firebolt was slowing down —
Horrified, he looked around. Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbed hold of the Firebolt's tail, and was pulling it back.
"You —"
Harry was angry enough to hit Malfoy, but couldn't reach — Malfoy was panting with the effort of holding onto the Firebolt, but his eyes were sparkling maliciously. He had achieved what he'd wanted to do — the Snitch had disappeared again.
"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.
"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —"
Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Malfoy's direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously.
Katie took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.
Ara was fuming at this point, the Slytherins were playing dirtier than ever.
"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —" Lee groaned."Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor..."
Harry was now marking Malfoy so closely their knees kept hitting each other. Harry wasn't going to let Malfoy anywhere near the Snitch. . .
"Get out of it, Potter!" Malfoy yelled in frustration as he tried to turn and found Harry blocking him.
"Ara Black gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Ara, COME ON!"
Harry looked around. Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Ara, including the Slytherin Keeper — they were all going to block her — Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins.
"AAAAAAAARGH!"
They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Ara's way was clear.
"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!"
Ara shot a grateful wink at Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field.
And then he saw something to make his heart stand still. Malfoy was diving, a look of triumph on his face — there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer —
Harry urged the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was miles ahead — "Go! Go! Go!" Harry urged his broom. He was gaining on Malfoy — Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him — he was at Malfoy's ankles — he was level —
Harry threw himself forward, and took both hands off his broom. He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and —
"YES!"
He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in his ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers.
Then Wood was speeding toward him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Harry felt two large thumps as Fred and George hit them; then Ara's, Angelina's, and Katie's voices, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth. Then Ara turned to Harry and gave him the biggest hug ever along with a kiss on his cheek. He turned a deep shade of red, but she was so excited she didn't even notice.
Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Then Ara, Harry, and the rest of the team were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, he saw Hagrid, Plastered with crimson rosettes — "Yeh beat 'em, Harry, yeh beat 'em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak, Yer did amazin' Ara!"
There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Ara and Harry, were Ron and Hermione. Words failed them. Harry simply beamed as he was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.
If only there had been a Dementor around. . .As a sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, catching sight of Ara's smiling face, Harry felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾
HIIII
HARRY SEEING ARA'S SMILE AND FEELING LIKE HE COULD MAKE THE BIGGEST PATRONUS AWWW!! <33
I just love Hara sm.
qotd: mention a book boyfriend that everyone loves but you hate. Zade Meadows for me and if you've read the books I don't think I need to explain why I despise him lol.
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ILY! See you in the next chapter!