Chapter Sixteen: The Quidditch Cup
Two weeks after the school was told that Thomas Nott was the killer, everyone was still buzzing about what had happened. Even the Slytherins were convinced that it had been him, and one couldn’t go more than a few feet in any of the hallways without hearing something awful being said about him. Sirius was the recipient of numerous apologies, though every time someone said they were wrong about him and shook his hand he was reminded that the person they all hated now was innocent.
“He deserves to be humbled, Sirius,” Jack said, trying to comfort him.
“You said yourself that it was almost certainly him who tipped off the Death Eaters during the Christmas Holiday,” Brian added.
“I know, but no one deserves to be hated by the entire school,” Sirius shot back. “I mean, at least the rest of the Slytherins still like each other even though everyone else hates them. And I always had family to stick by me. Nott doesn’t have a friend left in the entire castle.”
“Well, he’s not in the castle, and by the time he comes back everyone will know it wasn’t really him,” Lee said with finality. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about. Quidditch is tomorrow, and if we don’t beat Hufflepuff, they’ll get the Quidditch Cup. Any plans?”
Despite being beaten by Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff had managed to beat Slytherin by more than twice as many points as either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor had managed to beat Ravenclaw by a fair margin. If Hufflepuff managed to beat Gryffindor with more than a seventy point lead, they would take the coveted Quidditch Cup right out from Gryffindor’s nose.
“I can’t believe they’ve managed to pull ahead of Ravenclaw like that,” Chris put it. “Ravenclaw has won for the last several years running, and now they’re not even in the running anymore. What does James think about that?”
Sirius laughed. “Just don’t say anything about it to him or any of the other Ravenclaws. He really wanted to win during his last year here at Hogwarts and now he doesn’t have a chance. He hasn’t smiled since Hufflepuff slaughtered Slytherin.”
“Well, what’s our strategy for not being in their shoes?” Lee asked, eager to ensure Gryffindor’s victory.
“Just make sure they don’t score as much as you three,” Sirius said with a confident grin. “Greg and I will take care of their Seeker and make sure Lillian has the cover she needs to catch the Snitch. What else do we need?”
***
Panicking, the student paced back and forth in the empty classroom. He’d been visited by his tormentor once again, and had been tortured for more than an hour to encourage him not to fail. He was to attack once again at the Quidditch match, and he had been told in no uncertain terms that someone was to die.
He had already made the preparations; one of the Hufflepuff Chasers was under the Imperius Curse awaiting his orders, and her broomstick had been sharpened to a wicked point and enchanted to look completely normal. All he needed to do was order her to ram someone, anyone, and their death would be guaranteed. The poison coating the tip of the broomstick would see to it, and also make certain that everyone would know it was no accident.
He had made the preparations because he had no choice, but now the decision of a target was making him have second thoughts. When he had been tortured, he’d felt more aware than before, as if the pain had woken him up. Now he desperately wanted some way out of the horrible mission he had been given. Even as he determined that he would not go through with it, he trembled with the memory of the pain and found himself once again considering possible targets.
“Come on, the game’s about to start!” another student yelled to him before grabbing his broom and hurrying to the front of the changing tent.
Sighing, the student straightened his yellow Quidditch robes and made his way out as well, hiding his panic behind a confident smile. What am I going to do?
***
From the time the whistle blew, everyone watching knew that it would be a close game. The Gryffindor players were playing at their finest, but unfortunately, so were the Hufflepuffs. Lee managed the first goal, but from then on, the two teams traded the lead back and forth six times in the next ten minutes. The Weasleys were working together as a team flawlessly, but one of the Hufflepuff chasers in particular, Harriet Weatherby, was playing with a single minded determination that shocked everyone who saw her. It was as though she was being driven to win, and after the first twenty minutes, she had scored seventy out of Hufflepuff’s one hundred and ten points.
Sirius had managed a nice shot with a Bludger to the Hufflepuff Keeper’s face fairly early on in the game, but Frank Longbottom had followed it with a shot at Ron Weasley Jr. that had left the Gryffindor Keeper favoring one arm. With both Keepers injured, it was promising to be a very high-scoring game.
Sirius was trying to be everywhere at once, but found himself limited to staying close to his sister who was being targeted almost exclusively by the Hufflepuff Beaters; they knew as well as Sirius that whoever caught the Snitch in this game would be the winner, since they were so closely match by points. Sirius was taking the offensive as often as possible, but he had assigned Greg the task of going after the other team’s Seeker while he kept Lillian safe.
Another hour later, with the scores in the two hundred range, both teams were starting to tire. Sirius and Greg had been unmerciful with the Bludgers, and many of the Hufflepuffs were sporting large bruises, but Frank Longbottom and the other Hufflepuff Beater had proven just as effective. Chris looked especially ragged, having been knocked off his broom fifteen feet from the ground. He had managed to shake the worst of the fall off and climb back on, but there was no doubt he was in a good deal of pain. Sirius was just starting to hope that someone would call a time-out so they could regroup and form a new strategy when Lillian caught sight of the Snitch; Sirius raced off to follow her, determined to keep her safe until she caught it.
***
The Death Eaters had been particularly creative when they chose the tool they would use to terrorize Hogwarts. They had captured him while he was walking through a remote forest looking for plant specimens for his father, which he did fairly often. They had initially placed him under the Imperius Curse so that he would return daily for his training; they knew that the Imperius Curse would eventually be detected in the school, and it would be impossible to send someone in his place using Polijuice Potion, since the school had ways of discovering that as well, ever since a Death Eater had impersonated Mad-Eye Moody so many years earlier. Instead, they planned on “training” the student they captured, torturing him until he would do anything to be free of the pain, and convincing him that he truly wanted to do as they had ordered. Once they had accomplished that, they had trained him in dueling and Dark Magic, and had even managed to guide him through the Animagus transformation. He had become their perfectly crafted weapon, and had performed very well. Moreover, they had chosen someone that would be completely above suspicion. After all, what Potter would ever be suspicious of a Longbottom? Still, they never would have thought that his true personality would start to overcome his conditioning.
***
Frank watched as Lillian shot off after the Snitch, and knew that the game would be over soon. It was now or never; it needed to happen right as the game ended, as everyone in the stands began to either celebrate or groan in defeat, to ensure the shock was as great as possible. He had even selected his target. Remus Lupin, beloved friend of the Potters, devoted husband to the Head Auror, and favorite teacher to many of the students at Hogwarts, sat prominently in one of the top boxes. It would be easy; all Frank would have to do would be to mentally command Harriet to attack and it would be over. He could even convince himself that he was innocent, that it hadn’t been him that had actually done it. Still, he hesitated; would he be able to live with himself if he did this? Would they find him again and inflict even more pain than before if he failed? He hesitated even longer, and then it was too late. Sirius, having seen his rival distracted, even distraught for some reason, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to eliminate the biggest obstacle that stood in the way of Gryffindor’s victory. The Bludger hit squarely on the side of Frank’s head, knocking him unconscious even before he fell off his broom.
***
Sirius watched in satisfaction as Frank fell to the soft ground below, satisfaction that grew as Lillian finally held up the Golden Snitch in triumph. That satisfaction quickly turned to confusion and then horror; the rest of the team was flying towards them, already celebrating, when Harriet, the Hufflepuff Chaser, went out of control. For no reason Sirius could see, she started flying in an erratically descending spiral that would obviously take her to the ground in a painful manner. Greg was lifting his Beater’s bat high in elation when he flew into Harriet’s path, and Sirius watched in horror as the broom impossibly went through Greg’s leg instead of deflecting off of it. As it emerged from the front of Greg’s leg, though, Sirius was quick to see that the broomstick wasn’t rounded like it should have been, but was sharpened to a point like a wooden stake. Even as Greg screamed in shock and pain, Sirius quickly cast a levitation spell and eased the tangled students to the ground and rushed over, hoping to be able to help his younger friend.
As he came closer, Sirius realized the horrible extent of Greg’s injuries. The broomstick had pushed all the way through Greg’s thigh, and remained lodged there, preventing the wound from bleeding freely. What was horrifying was the look on Greg’s face as he struggled to breathe. Sirius was only momentarily confused, before he pulled more of the torn fabric of the boy’s Quidditch uniform away from the wound and discovered the flesh around the wound quickly turning black.
Poison, Sirius thought bleakly, wondering how he would be able to turn into a Phoenix and save his friend without giving himself away. He would have to do it, he knew; it was Greg’s only hope, and he couldn’t just let him die. He was about to make the transformation when suddenly Ron and Hermione were kneeling beside the boy as well.
“He’s been poisoned,” Sirius said urgently, to a nod from Hermione.
He watched in relief as his Aunt produced a small black object that she quickly shoved into Greg’s mouth. Greg’s breathing instantly came easier and the blackness faded from the flesh around the boy’s wound.
“A bezoar?” Ron asked incredulously. “How could you have possibly known you would need one?”
“I’ve carried one with me ever since you got poisoned during our…” Hermione started, before trailing off as her face turned red.
“Sixth year?” Ron asked, a smile growing on his face. “On the advice of the Half Blood Prince you were so anxious to discredit? Wait till I tell Harry,” he chortled.
“You’ll do no such thing, Ronald,” Hermione snapped, before turning back to Greg. “Vanish the broom, and I’ll heal him before it starts bleeding too much.”
Before long, Greg was merely unconscious, his leg mostly healed, while the rest of the Gryffindor team was gathered around them on the field. There was pandemonium in the stands, and the other teachers were struggling to regain order.
“We need to get him to the Hospital wing,” Hermione said, looking around in dismay. “Then we’ll have to help restore order to the school. Did you find anything on the map?”
Ron looked up from Harriet, who appeared to be unharmed, though she continued to stare blankly at the sky.
“There was nothing suspicious,” Ron answered, obviously frustrated. “This one is under the Imperius Curse as well, though it doesn’t look like she’s getting any orders at the moment. Whoever it is, they’re probably too busy running to tell her to do anything else.”
Just then Ginny rushed over to join the rest of them.
“Frank is still unconscious, but he’ll be okay,” she informed them, causing them to look over to where Frank’s body was being levitated off the field. Ron and Hermione did the same for both Harriet and Greg, leaving the Gryffindor team standing dejected on the field.
“Why can’t we just play a game of Quidditch without something horrible happening,” Lillian said glumly, still holding the struggling Snitch.
“Doesn’t really feel like we won, does it?” Lee said, more of a statement than a question.
Sirius caught sight of Samantha running toward them then, tears running down her face.
“Is Greg okay?” she asked Sirius as he stopped her; it was obvious she wanted to run after her brother.
“He’ll be fine,” Sirius told her soothingly, wrapping his arms around her. He had no intention whatsoever of telling her the details of her brother’s injuries.
“Why does this keep happening?” Samantha asked, crying into Sirius’ shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Sirius said honestly and unhappily. “I don’t know.”
***
Later that night, Frank lay in his bed in the hospital wing, staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t done it. He had beaten back his conditioning long enough to prevent the worst from happening. Granted, he did feel bad for Greg Harris, but he knew that it had been an accidental collision that had led to the boy’s injury. If he had given in and ordered Harriet to go after Professor Lupin, she would have hit him squarely in the chest, and there would have been no chance for him then. Thanks to Sirius’ Bludger, Frank had been saved from making that choice. His confidence in himself was growing, and he began to feel like he might finally be able to rid himself of his tormentors. Next time, he assured himself, he wouldn’t just hesitate, he would finally say no.
A/N: I’m really sorry this took so long, but I had finals to finish. Christmas break is here, so even if I can’t post chapters for a while, I hope to have the next several done before the queue opens up again. Merry Christmas!