A/N: Okay, sorry again that it took a bit longer… Exams have gotten in the way, but now I finally have time to write. I mean, I managed four chapters within two weeks for different stories, sounds promising, don’t you think. I hope you like this one as much as you liked the last one(s)! Reviews are appreciated as always, thanks for them. Oh, and I say it again, just in case “ the name of the Muggle Studies Professor Christophe Hayden doesn’t stand in any relation to the actor Hayden Christensen (Star Wars). It’s just a coincidence that I chose this name, especially as I didn’t even know the actor then. (though I have to admit now, he’s quite a hottie *grins*)
Another quick information: I just found out a few days ago that Charlie and Bill aren’t even supposed to be at Hogwarts when this story is set, but I hadn’t found this info earlier, when I started this fanfic, actually I guessed given by the dates that the same site had displayed then (which had been different), the dates of their Hogwarts career. Well, it can’t be changed anymore in this fic… for those who are interested in the site where I found the info (it’s actually great), here’s the address (I believe many of you know this website already): www. hp-lexicon. org
And now, have fun with this chapter!
Chapter 17: A Boggart, Quidditch and an Announcement
Quidditch was in the air.
Harry was very certain of the fact and this not only because he knew that tomorrow, on Saturday, the first match, as seemed to be usual, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was going to take place. In the halls everywhere and also in his last class on Friday, the students were chatting almost non-stop about the coming match. They didn’t even seem to register when he had stepped into the classroom and they hadn’t stopped until he had dropped his bag on his desk with a nice loud bang. Immediately every head turned to him and he smirked. If the spirits were already so high because of a Quidditch match, he didn’t even want to think about how the students would act after the announcement that Dumbledore would make at dinner tomorrow.
“Now that I finally got your attention, I can start my class,” he told his fourth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. “Because today I’ve got a special treat for you. I noticed that you all did very well in my previous classes and I don’t think that anyone of you will flinch anymore, when I say the name Voldemort.”
And he was right, there was no reaction coming from any student. It had taken some time, now about six weeks actually, but he had finally achieved his goal with them. He had helped them understand that they didn’t need to fear a name. His other fourth year class, the Hufflepuff-Slytherin combination, hadn’t come that far, yet. Mainly because the Slytherins straight out refused to speak the name.
But now came the big test. “Does anyone of you have an idea of what my treat could be? Mr. Weasley,” he said, as Bill Weasley raised his hand, along with several other students.
The red-haired boy’s eyes wandered to the trunk next to the professor’s desk, as he replied, “The Boggart.”
“Exactly. Today you’re going to face the Boggart and fight it. I just don’t hope that it will turn into a stray Bludger, because I don’t think that we’re prepared to face one of them today, or does anyone of you have by chance a bat at hand that we could use?”
A couple of students laughed at his joke and one boy in Ravenclaw colours asked loudly, with a bright grin on his face, “Mine is in the common room. Should I get it? I mean, better be safe than sorry.” More laughter and even Harry chuckled lightly, as he walked over to the trunk.
“No, thank you, Mr. Sears. But thanks for the offer. Now,” he said, stopping next to the trunk and facing the class. “Please come all here and get into a line. I believe you all know the spell to fight a Boggart? Can someone name it? Yes, Mr. Linford?”
“Riddikulus.”
“Correct. Who would like to start? What about you, Mr. Sears, maybe you might need your bat after all?” The Beater from Ravenclaw, a rather lean boy with longer shaggy blond hair, bravely stepped forward at the beginning of the line. “Alright, you know what to do. Think about what you fear the most and then of something that might ridicule your worst fear. You know the spell. Wand at the ready.”
The boy shakily held his wand in his left hand and his mouth was set in a grim line, as he thought about his worst fear. For a moment Harry contemplated about using Legilimency to see this boy’s fear to be prepared, but then decided against it. He might be distracted by someone probing his mind and that was the last thing that Harry wanted. A quick nod from the boy told him that he was ready and Harry unclasped the latches and opened the lid.
Harry halfway expected it to be in fact Voldemort, since this had been their previous teacher’s reason to not show them a Boggart, but he was surprised to see that it was a dragon, a Norwegian Ridgeback if Harry wasn’t completely wrong. Fact was that it reached the ceiling of the classroom even without raising its head. Dark smoke came out of its nostrils as the dragon snorted and looked over the teenagers, who were now slowly inching backwards. Harry wondered, if he should step in, as the Ridgeback reared his head back, obviously planning to attack any second.
“Riddikulus!” the boy shouted and at the same moment as the dragon wanted to spit fire, it started to choke and instead of flames, the class was showered with pleasantly cool water. In addition to that, the whole dragon began to shrink until it wasn’t bigger as a dachshund and its roars had turned into an adorable squeak.
Harry grinned. “Alright, the next one!”
The students certainly had fun during this class, as each and every one of them faced the Boggart and it didn’t turn into Voldemort a single time. The worst fears of the students were mostly the most mundane things like spiders, snakes, trolls, banshees, vampires and one dark haired boy from Gryffindor was even afraid of clowns. In the end, after the last student had banished his Boggart, Harry wrestled it back into the trunk and closed the lid, before turning to his students. He was surprised, when a girl from Gryffindor raised her hand.
He called her name and she asked, “What does your Boggart turn into, Sir?”
Instead of answering her question, Harry looked thoughtfully at the rattling trunk and then at his watch. There were still ten minutes left, so it should be possible to show them. But were they ready to face something as terrible as the form his Boggart would take? Had he been ready their age? Yes, he had been more than ready, and the kids deserved to know about this creature as well. It might help them, should they ever get into the dire situation to face one of them.
“I’ll show you. Please step back.” He placed himself between the students and the trunk and faced it. With a wave of his wand, the lid sprung open and a dark creature rose out of the trunk. He heard several students gasp, as the Dementor took a rattled breath and he himself felt its effect as his stomach churned and he started to feel incredibly cold. A girl behind him whimpered and the shuffling of feet reached his ears. Harry, however, stood his ground, as the creature approached him and soon he could hear the voices in his head. Not Harry! Please, not Harry! Shaking his head and deciding that this was long enough, he pointed his wand at the Dementor, recalled the happy memory of meeting his parents for the first time and yelled, “Expecto Patronum!” The Dementor-Boggart stumbled back into the trunk, as Prongs bared his antlers and shoved them into the creature’s chest. The lid snapped shut and the class breathed a sigh of relief. Harry felt a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, as he watched as Prongs disappeared, and turned around to face a couple of ghostly pale students. “This was what my Boggart turns into. What was this creature?”
“A-a Dementor?” a shaking Ravenclaw girl mumbled.
“That’s right,” Harry said, nodding. “Please read up on Dementors until next class. We’ll talk about this dark creature then and also about the charm I used to repel it. You can go now. I’ll inform the house-elves to supply your common rooms with large quantities of chocolate. It will make you feel better again, I promise. So eat it, lots of it, because I don’t want any of you to miss the match tomorrow!”
~*~
Saturday, October 18, 1980, came with simply brilliant weather. There was no cloud to be seen at the ceiling of the Great Hall and the sun was shining down at them warmly. It promised to become a great day for Quidditch, as there was no wind at all and the only thing that might even remotely bother the players was the bright sun. At breakfast the Great Hall was already packed with students bearing either the colours of Gryffindor or of Slytherin. The Gryffindor house table went up in a cheer, as their team stepped into the Hall, already packed with their brooms.
Harry sighed, relishing in happy memories, as he watched this. Those were the days, when he had been welcomed with the team like this… Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Ron giving Charlie the thumbs-up, as the younger Weasley looked at the staff table. “You’re supposed to be unbiased,” he mumbled to his friend and nudged him in the rips with a sharp elbow. “Don’t forget. You’re the referee in this match.”
“No need to hurt me, mate,” Ron complained, rubbing his rips, but grinned. “You’d rather tell style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>them this…”
Harry looked up to the large wooden double doors and saw Hermione and Draco enter, both decked out in the colours of their houses and obviously engaged in a rather heated discussion, which first stopped, as they joined Ron and Harry at the staff table.
“Good morning,” Hermione greeted them brightly, helping herself to some scrambled eggs. “Isn’t this a beautiful day? Perfect to squash Slytherin.”
Ron snorted into his goblet of pumpkin juice and turned his head to look at Hermione, who was now calmly eating her breakfast. Harry also looked at her a bit surprised. Though Hermione had always supported him and Ron during their matches, she had never shown her interest in defeating a team like this. She almost seemed passionate about the upcoming match.
“Dream on, Granger,” Draco said haughtily, as he filled some coffee into his cup. “Gryffindor will never win this match.”
“What do you want to bet that Slytherin wins this match?” Hermione asked him, smiling daringly. “Before you answer, I just want to remind you that we have Charlie Weasley as Seeker and I heard that he’s superb.”
“What about ten galleons for the outcome of this match and fifty for the Quidditch Cup?” the Head of Slytherin suggested slyly and already extended his hand, reaching over the table.
Hermione seemed to think for a moment, but then a smirk crossed her face. She took his hand, meeting him halfway directly in front of Ron and Harry and said, “I accept. Ten galleons for this match and fifty for the cup.”
“You’re bonkers,” Ron hissed at her and since Harry was sitting between them, he couldn’t help but overhear. “That’s a total of sixty galleons!”
But Hermione only dismissed him with a quick wave of her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”
A small grin tugged at Harry’s lips, as he noticed the certainty with which Hermione was acting. “What do you know that we don’t?”
Before she could answer, the team members of Gryffindor suddenly got up again and left the Great Hall, obviously heading to the changing rooms at the pitch. Harry, forgetting his question, looked at his watch and saw that the match would start in half an hour.
Slowly, one by one, other students also left the hall and the Slytherin team followed about five minutes later. When Draco was at last also finally finished with his breakfast, the four of them walked between the students to the top box for the teachers halfway between the fifty feet high goal posts. Ron parted ways with them before they got up. From the top box they could see him bringing out the large wooden crate with the four different balls “ one Quaffle, two Bludgers and the tiny Golden Snitch “ and carrying his broom under his arm.
The top box filled out quickly with the other staff members and even Hagrid managed to squeeze in between them. There were only ten minutes left until the match started and a look around told Harry that most of the students were already in place. Dumbledore smiled at them and sat down behind them, but then suddenly Harry jerked around, as he heard familiar voices.
“I see you noticed my special guests, today,” the Headmaster said winking, as James and Lily Potter and Arthur and Molly Weasley stepped into the box, sitting down next to Dumbledore. Arthur and James gave each of the young men “ even Draco “ a tight handshake and the women only smiled at them.
“Not that I’m not glad that you’re here,” Harry said, still surprised, seeing as his parents hadn’t told him that they would come. “But what are you doing here?”
“We’re here to watch the match, of course,” James answered, as if it were the most obvious reason in the world. “Gryffindor versus Slytherin “ it’s a classic.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Lily said grinning. “Quidditch was only one reason. We also wanted to see how you’re doing, with teaching and all that. I must say, we heard the most interesting rumours, but maybe you could tell us about them later?”
“Where’s Ron?” Molly Weasley suddenly asked, as she had looked around the box and not seen him there.
“He’s down there,” Hermione informed her, motioning at the pitch. “He’s refereeing the match.”
“Ah, there he is,” Arthur exclaimed delighted and at the same moment, Ron looked up and smiled brightly, when he spotted his parents in the box.
“’scuse me,” they suddenly heard, as a black teenage girl with dark dreadlocks fought her way to the front, where the magical megaphone was lying.
“Ah, Miss Jordan,” Dumbledore greeted her amiably. “Are you ready to commentate the match?”
“Aye, Sir,” the girl replied grinning and suddenly Harry knew why she had always seemed so familiar, when he had seen her in his fifth year DADA classes. A low chuckle escaped his lips, as he thought of the irony of this. This Emily Jordan must be somehow related to Lee Jordan, an aunt or something like that. He was curious if she was as impartial as Lee while commentating.
The clock strung eleven and at the same moment, the Slytherin team stepped onto the pitch. Emily Jordan raised the megaphone to her lips and began. “For Slytherin we have as usual the rather sturdy players Adlam, Byington, Truax, their captain Hazard, Denton and Lawley. The only exception of this team is second year Seeker Lisa Scarborough who just joined the team this year.”
Harry grinned again, when he saw the members of the Slytherin team. Rather sturdy was the understatement of the century. All six male players were extremely tall, fifth year and older, and bulky and seemed to be thinking more with their muscles as with their brains, except for their Seeker, who was truly tiny, even for a second year student. Well, at least some things never changed.
“Aand for Gryffindor we have the team captain and Beater Baker, her fellow Beater McHarg, the Chasers Osborn, Emerson and Clowes, Keeper Ackers aaaaaand Seeker Weasleeey!” Cheers went through must of the stands, as the Gryffindor team stepped into the light. “Now Hazard and Baker shake hands! Hey, don’t crush her fingers you prick! Sorry professors,” she added quickly, giving the teachers behind her a quick smile and Harry’s grin widened. The comments already promised to become interesting. “Professor Weasley opens the crate and it’s started!”
The two Bludgers immediately went into the air, as well as the Golden Snitch, which fluttered for a moment in front of Harry’s face, who had to resist the urge in his fingers to grab it, and then disappeared.
“Osborn in possession of the Quaffle and he directly goes for the Slytherin goals!”
Harry recognized Osborn immediately. The rather short and scrawny boy with auburn hair was in his fourth year DADA class “ his Boggart was a frog (He had only shrugged and said, “I could never stand them.”). The team captain Baker was a petite black haired sixth year, but she appeared to be extremely strong, as she had just sent a Bludger from on end to the pitch to the other end. The other Beater, McHarg was the pure epitome of what a Beater should look like “ sturdy and tall, like a wall, with short brown hair. Emerson was a girl in her third year at Hogwarts. She was a rather tall brunette girl for her age. The last Chaser, Clowes, was in his fifth year at Hogwarts and his built was rather normal for a boy his age, taller and lean. Much to his surprise, the Keeper of the team was, unlike he had known it until now, a girl. Ackers was in her seventh and therewith last year at Hogwarts, tall and thin. He truly wondered how she managed to protect that goal posts, but she did, almost effortlessly.
But his eyes were mostly on the Seeker, Charlie Weasley, third year, stocky built, but he was steadily circling the pitch, searching like a hawk for the Golden Snitch. The tiny Slytherin Seeker tailed him, but Harry had learned a long time ago that you had to look for the Snitch yourself, or else you’ll most likely lose.
“Foul!” Emily Jordan yelled and Harry’s head whirled around to Emerson, who was holding her bleeding nose. “Hey! Byington! Do you need glasses? A head is not a Bludger!” Harry wondered why no one in the box saw the need to reprimand her “ though Hermione was eyeing the girl with a deep frown on her face, obviously ready to grab the megaphone and throw it away. “Penalty to Gryffindor! Emerson wants to perform it herself and… yes! Ten points to Gryffindor! It’s now thirty to zero!”
“And the match continues! Truax got the Quaffle, passes to Denton, who passes to Hazard and… damn, Ackers could have never gotten this. Thirty “ ten!”
Harry watched the match, fascinated. His whole body was itching to climb on a broom and join them. According to the anxious look on Ron’s face, as he had passed them one time to dodge a stray Bludger, and the way Draco was cursing under his breath, every time the Slytherin Seeker did something stupid, they were thinking along the same lines. Out of habit, his eyes were roaming the pitch for the Snitch, but it hadn’t
shown itself yet.
Time passed and the students were completely rapt by the suspense of the match. Gryffindor was still leading “ ninety to fifty and still no Snitch in sight. Another penalty went to Gryffindor, as Truax and Denton were holding Ackers, so that Hazard could score freely.
Hundred to sixty.
“Slytherin team captain Hazard calls for a time out! Gryffindor also uses the chance to once again go over the strategy. Baker talks to Weasley, but he only shakes his head. I believe none of us has seen the Snitch, yet.”
The sound of a whistle went through the air and the teams rose again into the sky.
There were a couple of near misses with the Bludgers, as the match continued, as Slytherin seemed to have decided to use a more offensive tactic than before. Baker and McHarg had a lot to do to keep the Bludgers away from their own team members and this seemed to have become the highest priority, especially as Slytherin’s Beaters had now made it their responsibility to viciously attack Charlie Weasley to knock him off his broom.
Harry heard some gasps from behind him, as Molly Weasley again had to watch such a near miss that could have hurt her son. He looked at his watch. Time had flown. It was already three o’clock in the afternoon and still no Golden Snitch. The score was one hundred and seventy to eighty for the golden-red team.
“Come on,” Harry mumbled under his breath, now sitting on the edge of his seat because of the suspense. A quick glance to his left told him that Draco was also looking a bit dishevelled, especially since his team was ninety points behind. Only the Golden Snitch could help them now. Harry looked to his right and saw that Hermione had obviously given up on Emily Jordan, as she was now sitting back quite relaxed, while everyone’s nerves were ready to burst. She also looked at her watch and then straightened, with a small victorious smile on her face.
Harry turned back to the pitch and then he saw it, the Golden Snitch, directly next to Charlie Weasley. He held his breath, inwardly hoping that the boy would see it and indeed, his head suddenly jerked around, when he had obviously spotted the small fluttering wings and his hand shot out.
A loud cheer went through the crowd and Slytherin students booed, as Charlie rose higher, yelling that he had it. His fist was in the air and the other members of the team were rushing at him and tackling him, so that they almost succeeded with doing what the Bludgers hadn’t managed.
“Charlie Weasley got the Snitch! He got the Golden Snitch in a rather unspectacular catch! Kinda anticlimactic, if you ask me, but whatever… That means, Gryffindor wins with three hundred and twenty to eighty!”
Hermione was grinning widely as she turned to Draco, who was running his hand through his hair. “Well, I guess this means that I won our little bet. This makes ten galleons for me.”
However, instead of a rude comment or insult as Harry had expected, Draco only smirked and said, “You may have won this match, but the Cup will be mine.”
~*~
After the match, the four of them had gone into their common room, along with Harry’s and Ron’s parents. The five males (even Draco had joined them) were once again going over the match, pointing out mistakes and good moves from both sides. The women were sitting in another corner of the room, mostly slandering about the men and their obsession with Quidditch. Harry watched them a bit out of the corner of his eyes and was glad to notice that Hermione got on so well with his and Ron’s mothers from this time.
All too soon it was time for them to go to the Great Hall for dinner. In the Entrance Hall, the Potters and Weasleys said goodbye to their sons and their friends and left, as they had only come for the match and the few hours until dinner. (“Better get home now,” Lily had said. “I don’t want to know, what kind of nonsense Sirius has taught Harry in our absence.” As answer James had only whispered into Harry’s ear, “Only the ways of a true Marauder. See you soon, maybe sooner than you think.”)
The Gryffindor table was still partying, chatting loudly and even singing and Harry didn’t want to be in Hermione’s shoes tonight. He could very well remember how much trouble McGonagall had always had to get them to bed after a successful Quidditch match.
When all plates were cleared and the students (especially the Gryffindors to continue their party) were about to leave, Dumbledore rose from the chair and cleared his throat. “Before you leave,” he said smiling brightly with the seemingly ever-present twinkle in his eyes, “I have an announcement to make.”
The students sat back down again and gave Dumbledore a curious look. Harry grinned inwardly, knowing exactly what Dumbledore wanted to say and what kinds of problems this announcement might cause for some of the students, as he had also been a victim of something like this a couple of years ago.
“This year, in light of the situation, the staff decided that you, as students, needed to have some more fun. Because of this a Halloween Ball will take place this year. Yes, I know that there are only two weeks left, but I believe this will be enough time for you to find a date and something to wear,” he chuckled, when excited and worried whispers broke out at the tables. “The ball will be open for students of fourth year and above, though younger students may be invited by their partners. But for those who may not participate in this ball, a huge feast will be prepared in your common rooms. I promise that you won’t come off worse, be it the feast or what you do afterwards. You will be provided with music and snacks, but only until eleven o’clock.”
The younger students, who had started complaining, when Dumbledore had mentioned the age restriction for the ball, now also slowly got excited. If they didn’t miss out anything, except for some stupid and formal dancing, it didn’t sound as bad as before.
“I ask those who want to come to the ball, to put down your names on a list that you’ll find in your common room within the following week, only for information, so that we know how many will come. Oh, before I forget, you may choose between either wearing formal wear with a simple mask (don’t forget, it’s Halloween) or you may dress up as you like. The Great Hall will be charmed, so that you won’t be recognized by anyone, unless you tell the other about your identity. This charm will lift at midnight. Now, if there aren’t any questions, you may go.”
Excited chatter broke out again immediately after Dumbledore had finished his announcement, as the students filed out of the Great Hall. Harry was really glad that he, as teacher, didn’t need to bring a date, but it would certainly be interesting to watch the students during the next two weeks. Oh yes, it would be fun to watch how they coped with the task to get a date.