Chapter 5: Ravenclaw Vs. Gryffindor
Author:Fae Princess
E-Mail: Fae_Child@hotmail.com
Summary:Harry returns for his final year at Hogwarts and his love for Hermione is deeper than ever.
Which is good; because dark clouds are hovering once again. H/Hr, and other pairings on the way. This is a sequel to my
first ever Harry Potter fanfic, "Snow".
Chapter Summary: Hogwarts just isn't Hogwarts without a game of Quidditch! But what about Harry
and Ron? Can they put aside their differences for the game?
Rating:PG-13
Disclaimer:Harry Potter, characters, and all related names and phrases are either copyright and/or
registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. and/or their respective owners. This is a fanfiction, no copyright
infringement is intended.
Special Thanks: To Gary Skinner, for supporting me in all my endeavors. He's a fantastic beta. And I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all of those who have read/reviewed this story. It means so much to me!
Enjoy!
With Ron angry at him, Harry found it very difficult to concentrate on school work. He found it so ironic that after insisting this year would be the best, he had failed miserably at making it so. Hermione was the only one right now keeping him focused, reminding him to always look for the bright side. Harry knew that Ron couldn't stay angry forever. After all, they had Quidditch practices and games to consider. Could he really stay angry that long?
Harry was actually looking forward to the Quidditch season, which was set to begin in two weeks time. That left him two weeks to get his team into shape, which left him months still before the game which would determine which house got the Quidditch Cup. This was Harry's last year at Hogwarts. He had never felt so determined in all his life to win something. He suddenly knew what it had felt like for Oliver Wood, a graduate who was once Gryffindor's captain. Ruthless, determined, but fair. And one Hell of a Captain. After winning the Quidditch cup his final year, they had never lost it since. Minus, of course, Harry's fourth year, when Quidditch had been cancelled to host the Triwizard Tournement.
"Harry, stay focused," Hermione said impatiently.
Harry snapped back to reality, visions of him on his Firebolt instantly disappearing.
"Sorry. My mind's not exactly on Charms today," he apologized.
Hermione sighed heavily, and shut both of their textbooks.
"What's on your mind?" she asked.
Harry smiled and said, "I was thinking about Quidditch."
Hermione moved closer to him, also smiling.
"You were always happiest on that silly broom," she said. Harry then looked at her, and frowned.
"I'm always happiest when I'm with you. The Firebolt is just a perk. You know how I love to fly."
"I also know just how dangerous that broom is. Not to mention the sport," she replied, her brows creasing even more deeply.
He put an arm around her to pull her closer, and he pressed a kiss to her temple.
"That never stopped you from coming to the games," he teased.
Hermione gaped at this, then reluctantly admitted, "It's an exciting game. That doesn't mean I enjoy watching you get bludgered up there."
"And when I catch the Snitch? How do you feel then, Miss Granger?" he asked. He loved teasing her about this. Quidditch was something he favored, and he eagerly rose to the occasion when somebody had something bad to say about the sport.
Hermione knew that he had trapped her. She was trapped, because he had a point. Her heart soared when he caught the Snitch (which was more often than not). Not only did her heart soar, but it also seemed to burst with a certain pride, a joy that she couldn't explain. Even when he didn't catch the Snitch, it didn't matter to her. Because he was alive and well coming out of most games. And even when he lost, he still had an aura of excitement, an excitement that only came with the sensation of flying. She, on the other hand, detested flying. She only did it when it was necessary, and to achieve the compulsory credits which were required to graduate from Hogwarts.
"Well, since we're on the topic, and since you'd rather talk about Quidditch than our Charms assignment, when exactly were you planning on holding the first practice?" Hermione asked.
"I've already booked the Pitch for Friday evening," Harry told her.
"And Ron?" Hermione asked delicately.
"And Ginny will tell Ron about the practice," Harry said stubbornly.
Hermione sighed, desperately holding in her frustration. Why couldn't they work out their differences? They were best friends. Best friends did not stay angry at each other for more than two minutes. At least, that was the way it was supposed to be. But Ron was Ron. And Harry was Harry. Both stubborn and determined to wait for the other one to come around.
"Shouldn't...maybe you tell him? It's been over a week now. You're supposed to be adults," Hermione finally said.
Harry had heard this argument before. So naturally, he knew what was to come next.
"You're Head Boy, and as Head Boy you're supposed to set examples for the younger students. If they see the hostility between you and Ron, not to mention anyone else, they'll get the idea--"
"I know, Hermione." Harry sighed. He didn't want to get into it. "I'm just as upset as you are about it. I think he just needs more time to cool down," he said.
"Well... did you ever consider that maybe he's waiting for you to make the first move? He's a very stubborn person, Harry. Maybe if you approach him first, he'll take that into light and know that stubbornness isn't everything," Hermione suggested.
"To him, stubbornness is everything. He's the second youngest of seven, Hermione. What else has he got left?" Harry asked.
"He's got you. If you'll step past this childish behavior, act like the 17-year-olds that you both are, and face up to your friendship, then these six years of memories will not have been for nothing." Hermione paused, then added more softly, "He's your family, Harry. Don't lose all of that over petty stubbornness."
Harry turned his body on the couch to fully face the woman he was destined to be with for all eternity, and again silently thanked Destiny. She knew what she was doing.
"Why do you put up with me?" he then asked.
She gave him a sweet smile, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Your guess is as good as mine," she joked lightly and stood up.
Just then Ginny walked in with Dean, Seamus and Neville, all of them chattering and bubbling with excitement.
As Hermione walked over to the set of stairs, she looked over her shoulder and said, "I think I'll hop into a shower. Do try and work on that assignment," she suggested.
Harry twisted his body around to face her at the stairs, while the other four Gryffindors took the remaining seats by the fire.
"I'd rather take a shower," he said, rather slyly.
"Well then, go take a shower," Hermione suggested, as though this was the obvious thing to do. Harry just stared at her, while Dean, Seamus, and Neville stifled laughs (the latter of whom with a face as red as a tomato). Ginny's face contorted to a look of shock.
Hermione seemed to have finally grasped Harry's implications, and she sent him a scathing glare. She could hardly speak, half laughing, half exasperated. She pointed a finger at him, still glaring. "Harry James Potter! If you weren't Head Boy...I'd...I'd...."
Harry laughed then, which gave the others full permission to laugh at Hermione's stuttering.
"I love you too, sweetums," Harry cooed.
Hermione fumed, turned at once, and practically flew up the stairs.
"You're so cruel," Ginny finally said, once Hermione was gone.
Harry turned back to his fellow Gryffindors, still smirking.
"What's got you guys so excited?" he asked them.
Dean calmed down enough to finally answer. "What else? Quidditch."
Harry smiled. "Hermione and I were just talking about that. Practice is this Friday," he informed them. They all nodded, and continued talking about the sport that had everyone's attention.
Harry was the first to arrive at the Pitch that same week on Friday. He held out his Firebolt at arms length, surveyed it, then mounted it. Next to Hermione, this was when he was happiest. This thought crossed his mind as his feet lifted off of the ground swiftly, and soon he was 20 feet above the ground....30...40...50...He swooped through the air, free as a bird. The breeze teased his already wild hair, the warm whoosh of the wind tickling his ears. He closed his eyes and pretended he wasn't on the broom at all. Instead he was soaring through the air, like Hedwig. Broomless and free...
"Who d'you think you are? Superman?" called Dean.
Harry's eyes snapped open, and he realized that his team had arrived. He reluctantly descended, only wanting to stay up in the air for the rest of his life. But then he realized that this was a practice. Plenty of time for flying. Right now, he needed to be Captain.
"Well then," Harry observed as he landed swiftly back on the ground. Taking a mental count, he surveyed his team.
Ginny Weasley:Chaser-6th year
Ron Weasley:Keeper-7th year
Dean Thomas:Chaser-7th year
Seamus Finnigan:Beater-7th year
Kevin Willis:Beater-5th year
Leah York:Chaser-5th year.
He looked at the team and smiled. "It's good to be back, isn't it?" he asked.
They all nodded, not nearly as excited as Harry was, but enthusiastic nonetheless.
"Do you think we'll win this year?" Dean asked.
"Right now, what I think doesn't matter. I know what I know, and what I feel." Harry paused, aware now that he had everyone's rapt attention. He continued. "I have such strong faith in our team. We have two weeks to shape up. Two weeks to get to know each other again, as a team. Well, no use sitting down here. Let's go!" Harry announced.
Excitedly, they all mounted their brooms, and soon after, Harry released the Quaffle, then the Bludgers, then the Golden Snitch. He watched as his team passed the Quaffle around to each other, then watched as Dean caught the ball, and made a getaway, aiming to shoot a goal. Harry watched with anticipation as Dean neared, zooming at high speed towards Ron. Dean released the ball with a powerful blow, and Harry cheered as Ron swung upwards, and caught the ball in such a manner that left everyone cheering madly.
Ron did a grand, dramatic leap, evidently proud.
"You lazy git! You forgot to catch the Snitch!" shouted Seamus, who was now swooping down to meet Harry at ground level.
Harry, grinning like mad, mounted his broom. "I didn't forget. This is part of being Captain. I need to observe my team, so I can assess what needs to be changed, fixed, and what doesn't. Now, excuse me," laughed Harry, and he soared up into the air, searching for the little winged nugget. He felt a sudden flutter around his left ear, and almost as instantly--the Golden Snitch was gone. But this time Harry didn't lose sight of it. He swooped down, towards the Snitch, and in just four seconds time, the wings were beating furiously within his grasp.
His team cheered once more, as Harry lowered himself to the ground, and the others ran towards him.
"Why do you even bother, Harry? It's us who needs the practice. You've been catching that snitch for six years now," piped up Kevin.
Harry gave a sheepish smile, and shrugged. "Makes good practice. I'm a little out of shape," he admitted.
Ginny laughed. "Harry, if you're out of shape, then we can kiss that Cup good-bye," she told him. The team laughed, silently agreeing that Harry was by far the best player on the team.
"Shall we have another go?" Harry asked.
The team agreed enthusiastically, as half mounted their brooms. The other half seemed preoccupied, however, and Harry finally noticed why.
"We've got company, Boss," Seamus pointed, straight across the field.
It was clear, even in the night, who the 'company' was.
"Slytherins," snarled Ron, who stood beside Harry.
"This Pitch is ours for the next hour. You know that just as well as we do. There's a notice in Madam Hooch's office!" yelled Dean.
"Dean, enough." Harry stepped in front of his team, just as Draco Malfoy came to a stop a few feet in front of him, his own team standing directly behind him, looking massive and menacing. Harry, being tall and thin, like the rest of his team, was nothing in comparison to the Slytherins, who looked to be just one large mass. Nevertheless, Harry, though not the least bit intimidating, seemed to possess a quality of control and authority that none of the Slytherins could ever possess themselves.
"Your practice is over," barked Goyle, Slytherin's Beater.
"Harry, let's just go," Ginny suggested lightly, placing an arm on Harry's shoulder. Malfoy's icy gray eyes flickered to each of Harry's team members, as if sizing them up.
"No, we'll go," Malfoy finally said, not taking his eyes off of Harry.
His team suddenly flew into an uproar, obviously not liking his hasty decision.
"We'll go," Malfoy repeated, not quietly, not loudly, but with a sense of unmistakable authority. The Slytherins instantly quieted, not needing to be reminded as to who the Captain was.
Ginny's grip on Harry's arm loosened, but she still remained by his side. The others stayed silent, watching as the Slytherins made their way back to the castle.
"What was that about?" asked Leah quietly.
Harry waited until he could no longer see the Slytherins in the distance, and turned back to his team.
"My guess is that they wanted to get a look at our team. They do it every year as a desperate attempt to intimidate us," Harry finally answered.
"They're huge," Kevin said worriedly.
"They've always been like that," Ginny consoled. "And Harry's right. Don't let them get to you. They might have size, but we've got talent. We'll see who's the better team."
"And until then," Harry began, "we should finish our practice. I'm holding a team meeting on Sunday, common room. No practice intended. This is talking purely strategy and other topics worth mentioning."
Taking this as a sure sign that practice was to continue, they all mounted their brooms and resumed to their practice, with more fervor and excitement than before.
After another half an hour of their first Quidditch practice, Harry decided it was getting too dark to continue on.
"Excellent practice. Let's head back," Harry suggested, concluding an hour's worth of practice.
His fellow teammates walked in two's and three's, heading back to the castle. Harry seized the only opportunity he had, stemming down his nervousness. It's now or never.
"Ron," he called after the red head.
Ron looked over his shoulder to Harry, then looked back at Ginny, who stared furiously at her brother. For a couple of minutes they seemed to be sharing a silent argument. In the end, Ginny won, because Ron turned towards Harry and made his way up to him.
He did not look pleased. But he didn't look upset either. This gave Harry all the push he needed, while Hermione's voice echoed in the back of his mind. Ron was family.
"I think we need to talk," Harry began, nodding towards Ginny. Ginny smiled, waved and followed her teammates.
To Harry's utter amazement, Ron nodded. "I think so, too."
Suddenly, the words that Harry had rehearsed in his mind seemed to be leaking. He didn't know what to say. He had expected Ron to frown, stomp his foot in anger, maybe even flee. But Ron was showing maturity in his instant agreement. This meant that Ron had been thinking about their argument too. Had he been dwelling on it just as Harry had, the past week and a half?
"About what I said..." Harry finally said.
Ron put a hand up to stop him.
"I don't want to hear it," he told him firmly. But he was smiling.
"But--it needs to be addressed--" objected Harry.
"I said some things too, Harry. We're both sorry. Let's just forget about it," said Ron.
Harry finally smiled, relieved and happy. Together they walked back to the Hogwarts Castle, chatting nonstop about the previous week that they had missed experiencing together.
The next two weeks flowed by so quickly, Harry had very little time to reflect on Time's frightening speed. Autumn was upon them once more, the most breathtaking season of the year. The Forbidden Forest resembled a majestic painting, bright hues of orange, crimson, and gold seemed to glow from the forest. A seasonal temperature reminded the students to wear their sweaters and mittens for the first Quidditch game of the season. As of now, each side of the pitch was crowded with every student and professor in the school.
Ravenclaw would play against Gryffindor. This was not good for Harry's team, considering how good the Ravenclaws had become in the past year. Not good enough to gain the Quidditch Cup, but definitely a rival to shake a fist at. So it was no surprise to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, when Harry paced nervously up and down their bench, as they all sat in the change room, all fitted into their uniforms.
"Words of encouragement, anyone?" Harry asked lightly.
His team caught the joke, and laughed with him. Yes, Harry was nervous. But he had not lost hope.
"I think now is the only time, if any, to sound overly confident. Ravenclaw has nothing on us," boasted Dean.
Harry nodded, grateful for his enthusiasm and faith.
"I'm not good at this. Pep talks have always been Oliver Wood's field. I'm just Harry, trying to do the best possible thing for his team. If we lose, that does not mean the end for us. If we win, it means only the beginning. My faith has never wavered when it came to my team. To you." He paused, knowing he had them hanging on his every word. Then, "We are as tight as we can possibly be, especially with three practices a week. You guys have exceeded my expectations, always. That does not mean I'll be disappointed if we lose, because in my eyes, we will always be winners."
Ginny and Leah emitted tiny squeaks of encouragement, visibly touched by Harry's warm speech.
"Girls," muttered Kevin teasingly.
They both glared at him.
"That's good enough for us, Harry," Ron announced, standing up to join him at his side.
There was a silence that filled the room just then, as all of them contemplated Harry's words.
"Shall we go?" Ginny asked, still glowing from the comfort Harry's speech brought to them.
Harry laughed softly and patted her shoulder reassuringly.
"I couldn't have put it better myself. Let's go," he announced and they all stood to follow him outside.
The air was crisp and refreshing. Harry looked all around him, standing just underneath the stands beside Ginny. Behind them stood Ron and Seamus. Behind them stood Leah, Dean and Kevin. Each one clad in their scarlet robes, broomsticks in hand.
On the outside, Harry looked like the confident leader they all knew him to be. But on the inside, he was a jumble of nerves. Not necessarily because he feared this game would be lost to him, or because Ravenclaw seemed ten times better this year than they did last, or because Ravenclaw also seemed ten times more confident than last year. But mainly because he didn't want to disappoint anyone. This, above everything else revealed, terrified him more than anything. Throughout his Hogwarts years, he had disappointed many, only wanting to prove himself. Was he a good wizard? A good Seeker? A good Captain? A good friend? His team had never failed to reassure him of these things, but he still worried.
If they lost this game, he knew it was not the end, that they still had a shot at the Cup. But the light of hope would dim in his team's eyes, shadowed by disappointment and faltering confidence, and he couldn't bear that.
The crowd's increasing enthusiasm reached Harry's ears, and thoughts of worries fled instantly. He was here for the game. A game he had spent six years playing, improving year after year, game after game. Nothing else mattered anymore, because he felt inside himself his heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. This was the feeling he loved. This was Quidditch.
Dennis Creevey began his commentary, which sent the crowd into a cheer.
"Welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch match of the season! Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw!" he announced, and being a Gryffindor himself, he emphasized on Gryffindor. "Gryffindor is currently in possession of the Quidditch cup! Here come the teams now!"
Harry and his team mounted the brooms instantly, and from the opposite side of the Pitch, Ravenclaw's team flew up into the air, circling the pitch, clad in their own Royal Blue robes.
Harry lead his team to do the same, and soon the air was nothing but a blur of blue and red.
"For Gryffindor: Weasley, Weasley, Thomas, York, Willis, Finnigan, and Potter!. Potter is Seeker and Captain for his seventh and final year at Hogwarts! This year will be his last chance to win the Quidditch Cup! For Ravenclaw: Boot, Brocklehurst, Patil, Ross, Sibley, Hallman, and Frederiks!" Dennis continued to announce.
The crowds on both sides gave ear-splitting shouts and screams, each eager to cheer on their own team, or their preferred team.
Minutes later, teams in position, Madam Hooch on the ground below them waiting to release the Balls, the crowd silenced with Dennis.
She tossed the Quaffle into the air, released the Bludgers and finally the Golden Snitch, which Harry lost sight of almost immediately. His heart pounded with excitement and nervousness as Dennis continued his commentary.
"Gryffindor starts with a swift catch, as Ginny Weasley shoots across the field! Weasley passes to Thomas, but wait! Ross intercepts! Ravenclaw now in possession, Ross scores! Not even five minutes into the game! Ravenclaw now takes the lead with ten to nothing!"
The disappointment didn't linger on Harry. He had more important things to focus on, but he found it difficult when his team was losing by a large margin. After 45 minutes of fair play, Ravenclaw was in the lead by 120 points. Gryffindor had 50. Another hour passed, only to reveal that Ravenclaw was now at 200 points, and Gryffindor hung at a depressing 60.
Harry called a timeout. This was something he should have done ages ago.
"Potter's called a time out! Ravenclaw remains in the lead with 200 Points! With Gryffindor only at 60. If they catch the snitch now, they can still win the game!" Dennis announced.
Harry waved his team over, and they all crowded together.
"I don't know what's going on! I can't seem to block their goals," Ron whispered shrilly. He was evidently embarrassed.
Harry waved a hand to stop him.
"It's just a game, remember that. But if we're going to win, I need to find that Snitch. Ron, you have to at all costs, block those goals. I know you can do it. If I know you at all, then you can do this," Harry insisted. The others agreed, patting Ron while Ginny and Leah hugged him.
"Remember, distraction is the key, now more than ever. They cannot get another goal. So, that is why it is so important that you put all your skill as Keeper to use, Ron. I have faith in you," Harry said.
Ron managed a smile. "It's you we need to rely on," he told him.
"No, Ron. Don't you get it?" snapped Ginny impatiently, but she was smiling, "It's you. This is your moment."
"Yeah, so no pressure Ron," said Kevin. The others laughed.
The game resumed, and Dennis continued with his commentary.
"Ravenclaw in Position! Zooming in on another goal is Padma Patil! There it goes and it's not good! Ron Weasley saves the goal!" Dennis shouted, clearly as excited as the rest of them. The Gryffindor students in the stands roared with excitement, hope at last being restored.
"Potter is moving...does he see it!? Yes! It's the Snitch!" shouted Dennis.
Harry had seen the Snitch moments before, but had kept his position, instead opting to keep an eye on the winged nugget from where he was. It was a difficult task, considering how fast the Snitch was, and only years of practice had allowed him to accomplish such a trick. He wanted to make sure that he was within the Snitch's area, while the Ravenclaw Seeker, Frederiks, was not. An opportunity presented itself, and Harry leaned on his Firebolt, urging it forward, and he streaked across the pitch.
Ron saved two more goals before Harry finally grasped the Golden Snitch, and the cheers that followed would leave him deaf for days to come.
Relief and utter joy surged over Harry as he descended, and his team ran towards him and Ron, showering them with high fives, hugs, and soon the other Gryffindors in the stands were on the pitch, running towards them.
Dennis made his final commentary, "POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH. LEAVING GRYFFINDOR WITH 210 POINTS, RAVENCLAW WITH 200!"
Madam Hooch blew her whistle and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR WINS!"
More cheers erupted from the pitch and the stands. The game was over, though the thundering excitement had just begun.
Hermione made her way through the crowd, and stopped in front of Ron and Harry, beaming.
"You were amazing, Ron," Hermione said, through happy tears. This was her weak moment, when Harry saw just how much she loved Quidditch. Who couldn't?
Hermione wrapped Ron into a fierce hug, and they both laughed with giddiness.
"Hey, save some of that lovin' for me," Harry interrupted, and Hermione eagerly slipped from Ron to Harry, sliding her arms around his neck, his hands lingering at her waist. She looked up at him, her brown eyes shiny from tears.
"Congratulations, Mr Potter," she said.
"And what have you got for the winning team's Captain, Miss Granger?" he asked coyly.
Hermione gave a wide, beautiful smile. Then she kissed him, quite passionately, rocking him backward from the force.
The Gryffindors laughed at Hermione's enthusiasm as she pulled away, leaving Harry breathless and quite speechless, his glasses askew.
"Is that any way for a Head Girl to behave?" asked Sirius Black, who had made his way to the team as well.
Hermione giggled, red in the face from having acted so boldly in front of so many fellow classmates.
Sirius had a wide happy smile on his face. "You guys were incredible. All of you," he encouraged.
"We have Harry to thank. He's been our Captain and Coach for the past few years," replied Seamus.
"No," objected Harry. "We have Ron to thank. It was his idea."
A slow silence followed this statement as the other puzzled over what Harry had just said.
"Idea?" pressed Ginny with a frown on her pretty face.
"Well, do you honestly believe that Ron is that terrible of a Keeper? We knew this game didn't count for much, so we thought we'd have a little fun," Harry explained.
"WHAT!" Ginny shrieked.
"I faked most, if not all of those goals. I figured, even if we did lose, it wouldn't matter. We wouldn't be out of running. But I knew we'd win anyway. Harry's a superb Seeker," grinned Ron.
"Besides, it's our last year. We had to do something to make it more memorable," Harry added.
The Gryffindors looked utterly shocked, though quite impressed.
"I wondered why you were sucking so bad up there," Dean finally said to Ron.
"I was about to hit you with my bat," Seamus admitted.
"So you were FAKING IT! The WHOLE TIME!" Ginny shrieked.
"Chill, Ginny. We just wanted a dramatic ending to the game is all," Harry explained, trying not to laugh at her reaction.
Hermione was frowning as well. She naturally didn't approve of his and Ron's antics, but after more contemplation, and since everyone else (besides Ginny) thought it amusing, Hermione soon agreed, and finally smiled.
"That's just brilliant. Wish I had known," Kevin said.
"It was taking all of our energy not to tell you guys. We've only been planning it for the past couple of weeks, and we realized that we wanted the game to look as real as possible. So I acted like an incompetent Keeper, while Harry kept himself busy deterring Frederiks from the Snitch. It was just perfect that Ravenclaw kept getting the Quaffle. It meant more goals for them, which sped the game up even more. We could have been up there for hours," Ron explained.
"Brilliant," Kevin gushed again.
"Good thing you won," Hermione said.
"Why's that?" asked Harry, an arm still around her waist.
"Party time, Mr. Captain?" she asked, smiling innocently and sweetly.
Harry grinned.
"I suggest you get inside quickly. Looks like it's going to rain," Sirius noted, looking at the darkening sky. It was still morning. "However, I'd like to speak with you two," Sirius added to Harry and Hermione as the others went on ahead to the school.
"What's up, Sirius?" asked Harry.
"I thought you should know, Hagrid will be back within the next couple of weeks," Sirius informed them.
"Really? So everything's well then? Has he succeeded this summer?" Hermione asked eagerly.
"It seems that way. He sent an owl to Dumbledore yesterday. Everything is well, and so is he."
Harry sighed with relief, and he heard Hermione do the same.
"We should pay him a visit upon his return," said Hermione once they were inside the castle.
"We'll take Ron with us. He'll be happy to see him as well," Harry said.
Once they entered through the portrait hole, they saw that the party was in full swing. Food, candy and drinks littered the tables, music seemed to be playing from nowhere in particular (Harry couldn't find the source), and people were laughing, singing, dancing, and celebrating.
They deserved this celebration, even though Ron and Harry had practically staged the game. Because the others had worked hard to win. Most of the team's success was due to them.
"JOIN IN THE FESTIVITIES!" shouted Leah York from the corner. She was sucking on a Sugar Quill and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself as she bounced around the room on a sugar-high.
Harry and Hermione laughed at this, and joined her, Seamus, Dean and Ron while the party went on well into the night.
To Be Continued...
Author's Note: In my defense, I already know that Gryffindor plays Slytherin in their first match of the season pretty much every year, and I'm perfectly aware that the Quidditch season started a little too early, and that I'm not necessarily following "canon." I did this purely for one reason: it worked for my story. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
So what's in store for the next chapter? What will Hagrid have to say to the trio? And will the mystery to
Harry's prediction be resolved? Stay tuned and you'll find out!