"HE — HE SENT HARP AND I THIS," Hermione said, holding out the letter. Harry took it and Harper looked over his shoulder to read it. The parchment was damp, and enormous teardrops has smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very difficult to read.
Dear Hermione and Harper,
We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed.
Beaky has enjoyed London.
I won't forget all the help you gave us.
Hagrid
"They can't do this," Harry said. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."
"Try telling the Ministry," Harper replied, shaking her head.
"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," Hermione said, 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," Ron said fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work with Harper alone this time, Hermione. 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 her head. Finally, Hermione drew away.
"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers . . ." she sobbed.
"Oh — well — he was old," Ron said, 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."
• ✧ •
THE SAFETY MEASURES IMPOSED ON THE STUDENTS SINCE Black's second break-in made it impossible for Harper, 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 was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione, Harp. 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!" Ron said fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"
They were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Malfoy, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively.
"'S no good, Ron," Hagrid said sadly as they reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that . . ."
Hagrid turned round and hurried back towards 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?" Malfoy said. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"
Harry and Ron both made furious moves towards Malfoy, but Hermione and Harper got there first — SMACK!
Hermione had slapped Malfoy around the face with all the strength she could muster while Harper had pulled out her wand, which was now pointed at Malfoy, who staggered. Harry, Ron, Crabbe and Goyle stood flabbergasted, while Harper was just proud, as Hermione raised her hand again.
"Don't you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil —"
"Hermione!" Ron said weakly, and he tried to grab her hand as she swung it back.
"Get off, Ron!"
"Let her be," Harper said, not being able to hold back a smile.
Hermione, too, pulled out her wand. Malfoy stepped backwards with now two wands pointed at his chest. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.
"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and next moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.
"Hermione!" Ron said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.
"Harry, Harp, you'd better beat him in Quidditch final!" Hermione said shrilly. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"
"That was amazing, Hermione," Harper said, beaming proudly.
"We're due in Charms," Ron said, still giggling at Hermione. "We'd better go."
They hurried up the marble staircase towards Professor Flitwick's classroom.
"You're late, boys, girl!" Professor Flitwick said reprovingly, as Harry opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimeting with Cheering Charms today. We've already divided into pairs —"
Harper turned around, wanting to pair up with Hermione, but her friend hadn't entered the classroom. She sat down and waited for her, but she didn't turn up all lesson.
"She could've done with a Cheering Charm on her, too," Ron said, as they 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 the three of them had started to get slightly worried.
"You don't think Malfoy did something to her?" Ron said, anxiously, as they hurried upstairs towards Gryffindor Tower.
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 in an open Arithmancy book. The boys sat down beside her while Harper took the seat in front of her. Harry prodded her awake.
"Wh-what?" Hermione said, 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," Harry said, while Harper just give her a glance. "Hermione, why didn't you come to Charms?"
"What? Oh no!" Hermione squeaked. "I forgot to go to Charms!"
"But how could you forget?" Harry said. "You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!"
"I don't believe him!" 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?" Ron said, 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!" Hermione said, 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!"
"Don't worry, Hermione, I'll walk you through it," Harper said as they climbed the latter into the dim, stifling tower room. Glowing on every little table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Harper sat down 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," Harry muttered back. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands."
"Good day to you!" the familiar, misty voice said, and Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quievered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball. "I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned," Professor Trelawney said, seating herself 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.
It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard her, 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 practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes —" Ron began to snigger uncontrollably, and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the nose — "so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconcious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."
And so they began. Harper, at least, felt extremely foolish, staring blankly at the crystal ball, trying to keep her mind empty when thoughts such as 'this is stupid' kept drifting across it. It didn't help that Ron kept breaking into silent giggles and Hermione kept tutting.
"Seen anything yet?" Harry asked them, after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal-gazing.
"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," Ron said, pointing. "Someone's spilled their candle."
"There is one right here, too," Harper said.
"This is sick a waste of time," Hermione hissed. "I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on the Cheering Charms—"
Professor Trelawney rustled past.
"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she murmured over the clicking 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."
Harry, Hermione and Harper burst out laughing.
"Now, really!" Professor Trelawney, as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Parvati and Lavender were looking scandalized. "You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!" She approached their table and peered into their crystal ball.
"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?"
Harper sighed, leaning back in her seat. She knew it would probably be nothing good.
"My dear . . ." Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Harry. "It is here, plainer than ever before . . . my dear, stalking towards you, growing ever closer . . . the Gr—"
"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Hermione said, 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!" Hermione said 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 over to the trapdoor, kicking it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.
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 Harry, Ron and Harper's table, breathing rather heavily as she tugged her gauzy shawl more closely to her.
"Ooooo!" Lavender said suddenly, making everyone start. "Oooooo, 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 for ever.' You said it ages ago, Professor!"
Professor Trelawney gave her a deep 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 instea.
"Some day Hermione's having, eh?" Ron muttered to the Potter twins, looking awed.
"Yeah . . ."
• ✧ •
THE EASTER HOLIDAYS WERE NOT EXACTLY RELAXING. The third-years had never had so much homework. Neville seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.
"Call this a holiday!" Seamus 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, first to arrive at the library next morning; she had shadows that could match Remus' 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 pouring 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.
Harry and Harper, meanwhile, had to fit in their homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Oliver. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin were leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Oliver constantly reminded them) 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 only catch it if we're more than fifty points up," Oliver 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 only catch the Snitch if we're—"
"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Harry yelled, making both Oliver and Harper take a step back.
The whole of Gryffindor house was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since Charlie had been Seeker. But Harper doubted whether any of them, even Oliver, wanted to win as much as she and Harry did. The enmity between the twins and Malfoy was at its highest point ever. Malfoy was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Hogsmeade, which Harry had filled her in on, and he was even more furious that Harry had somehow worked his way out of punishment. It was the matter of Buckbeak that made Harper most determined to beat Malfoy in front of the entire school.
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 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 Harper were having a particulary 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 dissapointed when they saw them surrounded by people. Oliver has given instructions that Harry and Harper, since they were the youngest members, should be accompanied everywhere, in case the Slytherins tried to put them out of action. The whole of Gryffindor house took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry and Harper to get to classes in time because they were surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd.
• ✧ •
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 was crouched over a model of a Quidditch pitch in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself. Angeline and Katie were laughing at Fred and George's jokes.
Harry and Harper were sitting with Ron and Hermione, removed from the center of things. Harper was trying not to think about the next day, because every time she did, she had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of her stomach.
"You're going to be fine," Hermione told them, though she looked positively terrified.
"You've got a Firebolt!" Ron said.
"Yeah . . ." Harry said, not sounding too convinced.
It came as a relief when Oliver suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"
• ✧ •
THEY ENTERED THE GREAT HALL THE NEXT DAY TO ENORMOUS APPLAUSE. Harper couldn't help but grin broadly as she saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were clapping them, too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Harper noticed that Malfoy looked even paler than usual. Her eyes met Cedric's grey ones and he gave her thumbs up. Somehow, he had gotten his hands on a Gryffindor scarf and he grinned broadly upon seeing she had noticed.
Oliver spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the pitch before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.
"OK . . . 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 kick-off . . ."
Oliver paced the pitch, staring around with his team behind him.
"He's making me nervous," Harper muttered to Angelina and Katie who stood next to her.
"Me too," they replied at the same time, making the three of them laugh.
Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spill onto the lawn.
"Changing rooms," Oliver said tersely.
None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. Harper 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, Oliver was saying, "OK, it's time, let's go . . ."
They walked out onto the pitch to a tidal wave of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them or brandishing banners with slogans such as '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!" Lee yelled, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Potter, Bell, Johnson, Weasley, Weasley and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best side Hogwarts has seen in a good few years—"
Lee's comments were frowned by a tide of 'boos' from the Slytherin end.
"And here come 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. Harper, 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!" Madam Hooch said.
Flint and Oliver 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!" Madam Hooch sais. "Three . . . two . . . one . . ."
The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Katie! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the pitch — WHAM! — nice Bludger there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Potter, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Harper — nice swerve round Montague — duck, Harp, that's a Bludger! — SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Harper punched the air as she soared round the end of the pitch; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight —
"OUCH!" Harper exclaimed as she was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.
"Sorry," Flint said, as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"
Next moment, Fred has chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.
"That's what you get when messing with my friend," Fred stated.
"That will do!" Madam Hooch shrieked, zooming between them. "Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"
"Come off it, Miss!" Fred howled, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Harper flew forward to take the penalty.
"Come on, Harp!" Lee yelled into the silence that had descended the crowd. Harper breathed in, adjusted her grip on the Quaffle and threw. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Harper smiled broadened, gave Katie and Angelina a high five before turning her broom to watch Flint. He, still bleeding freely, flied forwards to take the Slytherin penalty. Oliver was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goalposts, his jaw clenched.
"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee 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 SAVED IT!"
Harper clapped along with the crowd, before taking her place next to Katie to participate with the plays.
"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! — Gryffindor back in possession and it's Angelina Johnson, Angelina Johnson for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up to the pitch — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"
Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, has swerved in front of Angelina, and instead of seizing the Quaffle, had grabbed her head. Angelina catwheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom but dropped the Quaffle.
Madam Hooch's whistle rang out agains as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Angelina had put another penalty past the Slytherin Keeper.
"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —"
"Jordan, if you can't communicate in an unbiased way —"
"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"
Harper managed to grab the Quaffle and was now racing towards the Slytherin goalposts.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Potter takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, Harp! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh, no — Flint is in possession, Flint's flying towards the Gryffindor goalposts, 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 match Harper 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 Katie with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Oliver pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.
Harper 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 and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Oliver, 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 pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Katie seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal: seventy-ten.
The crowd below were screaming themselves hoarse — Gryffindor were sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs.
Automatically, Harper's eyes snapped up, spotting Harry. Please, catch the Snitch.
He went for it but was held back when Malfoy threw himself onto the Firebolt, pulling it back.
"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 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 fist 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.
"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor . . ."
"Harper Potter gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Harp, COME ON!"
Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy, even the Slytherin Keeper was streaking up the pitch towards her — they were all going to block her, Harper realized.
And then, from out of nowhere, Harry shot towards the Slytherins like a bullet, making her way clear.
"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor lead by eighty points to twenty!"
"It's your turn, Harry!" Harper yelled at him. "Go for it!"
She saw Malfoy diving and her heart skipped a beat when she realized he had spotted the Snitch. Harry was quick to gain on him, but Malfoy had had a head start . . . Then, Harry threw himself forwards, taking both his arms off his broom. He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and managed to catch the Snitch.
"YES!"
Harper flew over to him, threw both of her arms around his neck. "We won! We won the Quidditch Cup!"
With his right hand, he held the Snitch up, while his left arm was around his sister.
"We've won, Harry!"
Oliver speeded toward them, half-blinded by tears, he seized the twins into a hug and sobbed unrestrainedly. Soon, the rest of the team joined the hug.
"We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangoes together in a many-armed hug, they sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.
Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the pitch. Hands were raining down on their back. Harper had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing her. Then she, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, she saw Hagrid, plastered with crimson rosettes — "Yeh beat 'em, Harry, Harp, yeh beat 'em! Wait 'till I tell Buckbeak!" There was Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Oliver, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way over to Harry and Harper, were Ron and Hermione. Words failed them. They simply beamed, as the twins were borne towards the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.
A sobbing Oliver passed Harry and Harper the Cup and together, they lifted it into the air.
Harper had never felt happier, she realised. Casting a Patronus would be an easy thing to do now. Her eyes fell on Cedric, who looked immensely proud.
Without thinking about it, she made her way towards him, grabbed his red scarf and pulled him down before kissing him firmly on the lips. She could feel him smile against her lips as he kissed her back.
Professor McGonagall smiled warmly at the young couple before shuffling towards Professor Dumblore.
"You owe me ten Galleons."
· · ───── · ☆ · ───── · ·
January 4th 2024
I hope you enjoy it & tell me what you think of it! :)
ONE WORD: FINALLY!
Fun fact: McGonagall bet that it would be Harper who'd make the first move and Dumbledore bet that it would be Cedric.
Ps: I will try to continue updating daily which I think I can manage since this part is still a rewrite of the previous draft! :)
Thanks for sticking around xx