Blood Traitors (After the Flaw: Oligarchy, Chapter 18)
Title: Blood Traitors (After the Flaw: Oligarchy, Chapter 18)
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Rating: R for language and mild violence
Summary: The first match of the year: Gryffindor v. Slytherin and Blood Traitor v. Pure Blood
Notes: I own I own these characters. The others belong to JK Rowling
I Was Me / Previous Chapters / Watch Me
As the Hugo Weasley and his fellow Hufflepuff first-years crossed the grounds, Drystan Bunker's mouth hung nearly down to his belt buckle.
"I've been here for over two months," he said to Harry Norley. "Why didn't I ever see this?"
Norley shrugged. "Magic?"
"Baby steps, Drystan," said Scarlett Scamander with a giggle. "You spent two weeks poking the talking paintings. Your brain just wasn't ready for the Quidditch pitch."
It was a bluebird-perfect November day: cool enough to enjoy the sun on your face, warm enough to not mind the gentle breeze blowing through the shedding branches of the Forbidden Forest. It was the kind of day that slowly vanishes into memory as the month trolls slowly into December. The late-autumn sun gave a contrast to the fluttering banners and glimmering hoops of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch that even Hugo, who had seen more than his share of professional Quidditch matches in his eleven years (Aunt Ginny always got free tickets), was impressed by.
"Hugo!"
He, as well as a few Hufflepuffs, glanced around to see his sister, Rose, jogging towards him, with their cousin Lily Potter close behind.
"We'll save you a seat, Hugh," said Norley, turning back to join the rest of the group.
"Alright," said Hugo, giving Norley (he still felt odd calling him Harry) a quick wave as the two Gryffindor girls caught up with him.
"Hugh?" Lily said with a wrinkled nose. "They're calling you Hugh now?"
"What?" Hugo asked as Rose laughed. "It's cool. It's, like, sophisticated, or something."
"Uh huh," said Lily, unconvinced.
"There've been loads of Hugos who go by Hugh..."
"Whatever you say, Hugh."
"So how are you doing?" asked Rose as the three continued their walk towards the pitch. "I haven't talked to you in a few days..."
"Doing good," said Hugo. "Homework's getting hard, you know? It's keeping me busy."
"Oh, I know!" said Lily. "How did you do on that paper Professor Allentide gave us? The one on Switching Spells?"
"I'm working on it tonight," said Hugo. "We were just assigned it on Thursday, we don't have class again until Monday."
"Lucky!" Lily said, aghast. "You get all weekend to work on it? We got ours on Tuesday and had to hand them in on Friday!"
"Well, how long did it have to be?" asked Rose.
"Six inches."
"We have to write eight!" said Hugo, equally scandalized.
"That's how Allentide works," said Rose with a shrug. "She'll assign more homework if you have the weekend to work on it. Keeps things fair, I guess. You haven't figured that out yet?"
"All I see is a big blinking red that says HOMEWORK EVIL," Lily admitted. "After that I sort of disappear into my own little world for a bit."
"How do you expect to learn anything if you don't focus on your work?"
"Hey, I learn loads!" said Lily. "You should see the tricks my imaginary marshmallow bunny friends can do."
"And people wonder why she has problems with Switching Spells, of all things," said Rose with a sigh.
"I'm joking," said Lily. "I do learn, even if I didn't do so well on that report. I'm just too busy worrying about the assignments themselves to be worried about how much I had today compared to yesterday."
"All I know is that there are two kinds of assignments," said Hugo as they crossed the threshold into the stands. "There are the hard assignments, and the really hard assignments."
"Ah, first years," came a voice from behind them. "So innocent of things to come."
"Hi, Nick," said Rose to Nicholas Hopkirk who, along with Nancy Sprague and Melody Callahan, were adorned in matching Gryffindor scarves.
"When you get to your OWL year," he continued to the two first years, "there are three types of assignments: really hard assignments, excruciating assignments, and "Oh Merlin, Make the Pain Stop!" assignments."
"Oh, be quiet," said Melody, slapping Nick on the arm as his melodramatic scream caused more than a few students to jump in alarm.
"Where's Al?" Nancy asked Rose as Nick gave Melody a look of indignant innocence.
"Back there somewhere," said Rose, motioning vaguely towards the castle. "He said he was waiting for Gid and Mattie."
"Moping, more like," said Lily. "He's still upset he didn't make the team," she explained to the fifth-years.
"He's not moping," said Rose bracingly. "Sure, he might be disappointed, but it's not like he's going on about it."
"Phhht, whatever," said Nick. "I don't see what the big deal is. I've tried out five years straight, and I still haven't made it."
"Yes, well, that's because you're horrible at it," said Melody, ducking out of the way with a squeal as Nick playfully lunged at her. The two had been dating since the beginning of the school year, according to rumors swirling around the Hufflepuff common room, but Hugo had been too worried about homework and classes to be concerned with it. He and Norley, who was becoming one of his best friends in the class, tended to just roll their eyes whenever that kind of conversation came up around them.
Girls, those eye rolls said more often than not.
"Careful!" Nancy laughed as Nick and Melody dodged around each other. "You'll knock someone over the railing!"
Whether Nancy, who bumped into Hugo as she jumped back from the wrestling Gryffindors, was dating James Potter was another matter of furious debate among the Hufflepuff gossip network. Since he was James's cousin, Hugo had found himself unwillingly pulled into these discussions on a few occasions, the older Hufflepuff girls often thinking he was unique source for such necessary information.
"If they are," he would always say, unnerved at the sudden attention, "he doesn't talk about it around me."
But despite his hesitancy to even care about the subject, Hugo didn't blame James for his obvious interest in the Gryffindor brunette. Hugo was old enough, and had enough older cousins, to know that he'd have to start noticing girls one of these days, even if he only thought of them as a mystery at present. And when that happened in that vague future, Hugo hoped he'd end up with someone as nice as Nancy.
"What are you still doing here, tiny?" Nick asked Hugo as he and Melody eventually calmed down. "Aren't you supposed to be over with the other Powderpuffs?"
"He's not tiny," said Lily with a smirk. "He's huuuuge."
"What I don't get," Hugo said through gritted teeth, "is why I get made fun of for being called Hugh, but Albus, Gideon, and Matilda get free passes on their nicknames."
"House privilege, midget," said Nick, ruffling Hugo's hair. "You can go back and make fun of Al or Jim or Gid or whoever you want with your Creampuffs. You can call her Lil, if you want," he added, pointing a thumb at Lily. "L'il Lily, even."
"I'll keep it in mind," Hugo said with a smile, fading quickly at Lily's glower.
No, Hugo didn't think he'd be using that nickname on her any time soon.
"You should go over to the Hufflepuff side, though," said Nancy. "The match is going to be starting at any time."
"We'll see you afterwards," Rose said to Hugo. "Hagrid's hut?"
"Yeah, I'll be there," said Hugo, looking across the pitch towards the Hufflepuff section, which was filling quickly. Norley better have held his seat...
"See you later, Hugh," said Nancy with a kind smile as Hugo departed.
No, Hugh thought happily as he made his way through the crowd, some girls were alright, after all.
---------
"Good morning, Hogwarts!" boomed the voice of Marion Lowman, the Hufflepuff commentator, over the crowd. "And welcome to the first match of the 2019-2020 Quidditch Cup season!"
"Come on, hurry up!" cried Matilda, pulling on Gideon's arm. "We're going to miss the opening!"
"We're not going to miss anything, Mattie," Albus sighed. "Everything happens above our heads. We don't need to be sitting to see it."
"I know, I know," said Matilda impatiently. "But still..."
"Careful with the tugging!" said Gideon, adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose from the jerking movement. "You'll break them!"
"Kids, right?" said Fabian to Albus with the sage-like tone of someone twenty years older than his fifteen years. Or like his own father. "No control."
"Sure thing, Dad," said Albus, looking around the bleachers for Rose and Lily. And there they were, sitting with Nick, Melody, and Nancy in an area already packed with other Gryffindors. Al's mood, which was already gloomy, sunk a little further. He had wanted to sit with Lily during the match, if for no other reason than to see her react to their big brother's performance for the first time.
And maybe to get a little sympathy for not being up there with him...
Albus tried to shut out that voice as quickly as he could. It didn't help anything. James was right; he was only a third year, after all. Everyone out for Gryffindor this year were fourth years at the youngest. That's how Hodgson, the Gryffindor Captain, liked to play it, and Albus couldn't say anything against it.
It just stunk that he was the first member of his family, Potter or Weasley, to not make the Quidditch team on their first try. Mum and Dad, Uncle Ron, Uncle George (as well as his late brother), Uncle Charlie. Even Granddad Weasley and Granddad Potter had made their squads straight out. It was competition and bloodlines like that that made Al occasionally feel like the lame duck of the family.
"Come on," said Fabian. "There's a gap up there, behind Professor Longbottom."
"In the first match of the year," Marion continued as the students climbed the stairs to their seats, "we have Gryffindor House, led by 'Comet' Clark Hodgson, going up against Xavier MacDougal's Slytherins! And here come the Gryffindors! Rayne, Fuller, Potter, Quentin, Mallon, Dean, and Hodgson!"
The maroon-and-gold section of the stands erupted as the Gryffindor team flew past them. Albus, Fabian, Gideon, and Matilda paused on their way down their row long enough to applaud before continuing on to their seats.
"Gryffindor has a lot of new faces this year," Lowman said as the team made a few laps around the pitch, "after barely winning their first Quidditch Cup last year in what was one of the tightest races in Hogwarts history. Gryffindor won the cup in their final match, with just ten points separating them from second place Hufflepuff and twenty from third place Slytherin. With Mallon and Dean in rookie stints as Chasers and Fuller taking her place in front of the hoops for the first time, Gryffindor's expected to take a step backwards this year. But time will tell.
"And now, here are the Slytherins: Swindell, Long, Orlo, Redmond, Malfoy, Piper, and MacDougal!"
It was the silver and green's turn to cheer, and the other Houses to boo and hiss, as their team, clad in black and silver with green trim, made their way out onto the pitch.
"Despite placing dead last in the House Cup for the last decade," Lowman explained as they made their laps, "Slytherin has remained a dominant force on the Quidditch pitch. Despite a narrow miss of the Quidditch Cup last year, MacDougal's teams have taken three of the last five championships, a pace not seen since the Gryffindor teams led by Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, and Harry Potter back in the 1990's, teams which also produced Quidditch League talent Katie Bell and 'Weasel' Potter. With Scorpius Malfoy coming on as a late replacement in the Chaser position, it will be interesting to see if Xavier MacDougal can win one more before he moves on to the Scottish National Team."
"Already?" asked Gideon as the four sat down behind Professor Longbottom, who was too engrossed in a conversation with Professor Clavis-Longbottom and Professor Reyburn to notice their appearance.
"Already," Fabian replied. "Xavier's good. Considering how much in-fighting goes on every year with the Slytherin team, the fact that he can carry them as well as he does is proof of just how good he is."
"Orlo and Piper are getting looks from the professional clubs, too," said Albus, "and Orlo's just a fifth year, so that's saying something."
"Well, he'll be old enough by the time the next World Cup comes around," said Fabian.
Fabian's last words were yelled over the cheering crowd, their energy elevated even higher as Madam Hooch carried the box to the middle of the field and the two captains, Hodgson and MacDougal, flew to meet her and to shake hands.
"And there's the whistle," Lowman boomed, "there's the release, and we're underway! And it's MacDougal with the Quaffle. Pass to Malfoy. Malfoy to Piper, Piper back to Malfoy, who dodges a brilliant Bludger from Potter and a near steal from Mallon. Malfoy doubled up by Mallon and Dean, pass back to MacDougal, who takes the quick shot on goal, blocked by Long!"
"--to use one of the unused classrooms," Albus heard from the row in front when the Gryffindor crowd's reaction to the save waned. "The administration dormitories weren't designed for two people, let alone three, so--"
"Are you talking about Madam Lovegood?" Albus asked Professor Longbottom.
"I am," said Neville, pulling away from his conversation with Professor Reyburn.
"So it's definitely going to happen, then?" asked Albus, his focus on the game temporarily averted. "She's going to be moving to Hogwarts? Mum mentioned in her last owl that she might."
"It is going to happen," Neville said with a nod. "We had the meeting with the rest of the faculty last night, and it was approved."
"When's Madam Lovegood coming?" asked Matilda.
"Next weekend," said Neville, his tone dropping slightly. "And I would ask that you not pass this information around the school until Professor Ogden or the House Heads make a formal announcement. It will be hard enough keeping misinformation spreading once she gets here; the last thing we want are any unfounded rumors about Luna's condition circulating before she's even signed out of St. Mungo's."
Gryffindor rose to its feet and screamed its approval as Mallon tossed the Quaffle past Fuller and through the Slytherin's right hoop.
"Slytherin back in possession," said Lowman as the scoreboard flipped to GRYFFINDOR 10 0 SLYTHERIN. "MacDougal with the Quaffle, lob to Piper, Piper back to MacDougal, dodges Hodgson and takes a Bludger from Quentin!"
"Is there anything we can do?" Matilda asked Neville as the three boys found their attention drawn back into the game. "Dad says Vickie's still miserable about everything, so if I can do anything to help make things better for Madam Lovegood--"
"Well, the first thing you can do," said Neville with a patient smile, "is stop calling her Madam Lovegood. Luna is what she'll be going by, at least until she remembers that it is her name. Repetition is key, from what the Healers say, so we'll call her nothing but Luna until it sticks. Last names come later."
"But anything else?"
"Whatever happens," Neville shrugged. "We're kind of playing this as we go, just like the Healers were. She'll be staying with me and Uri, and she'll be spending time in the halls, time on the grounds, time in Hogsmeade. Hagrid's going to re-introduce her to some of the animals, she always liked those. But just be supportive, be patient, and be kind. That's all that can be asked of anyone until we start seeing progress."
"The other teachers are going to be doing everything they can to help," Professor Reyburn added. "A lot of them had Luna as a student, and there's not one of us who don't know how important she's been to the magical community. Don't be surprised if we allow her to sit in on some classes, too, in case remembering specific spells or books might help her in her recovery."
"But, um," Matilda said carefully, knowing she was going to ask a question that she wouldn't dare ask her older sister, "are we going to see any progress? I mean, Memory Charms, they're, like, permanent, aren't they?"
"Hodgson with the Quaffle," said Lawson as Neville carefully thought over a proper answer. "Pass to Mallon-- oh, who takes another brutal hit from Orlo! I'll say this: in the early minutes of this game it's obvious that both sides Beaters are at the tops of their games so far. Both Orlo and Redmond and Potter and Quentin have kept this a very low-scoring, very defensive-minded contest--"
"I don't know," Neville said finally. "I don't know what's going to happen. Maybe nothing will happen. But... But she's my friend. And if she's going to go the rest of her life not remembering herself, then I'm going to do my best to make sure that she wakes up to something better than a hospital room."
"Malfoy with the Quaffle, dodges Hodgson and wow, another shot to the back from Potter--but he holds on! Dodges Mallon, dodges Quentin, Fuller's the only one between him and the hoop. Malfoy rears back, chucks the Quaffle, and--!"
---------
"WOOOOOO!!"
"What was that?" Fred Weasley asked, his head spinning so fast that Evan Dursley heard it crack.
"What?" Meghan Cullen asked, her face growing red.
"It's Slytherin," asked Fred. "Why would you root for them?"
Meghan cleared her throat nervously, suddenly conscious that everyone sitting around her in the Ravenclaw section was staring. "Well, um," she stammered. "It's just that... um... Gryffindor's the better team, and... and I want them to lose so Ravenclaw has a better chance of winning the Cup?"
Fred and Evan exchanged confused glances. To her left, Meghan could feel Kayla Macmillan's eyes boring into her temple.
"Uh huh," said Kayla skeptically.
"Actually, that kinda makes sense," said Tom Roberts thoughtfully. "If we think we have a better chance against Slytherin, then we don't want Gryffindor any higher in the standings."
"Yes," said Kayla drolly. "Yes, that makes very much sense and it is exactly why you cheered. Quite."
Meghan blush grew even deeper, but she remained silent. Kayla had no problem if Meghan Cullen was friends with Scorpius Malfoy. Kayla had no problem if Meghan fancied him with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Kayla hadn't pressed for any information about the night Scorpius Malfoy was in the hospital wing with her. Nor did she ask what happened to the second of the two boxes of cremes she had ordered from Honeydukes for Rose's birthday when Rose only ended up with one of them. Nor did she comment on the seemingly innocuous looks that Meghan tossed across to the Slytherin table at mealtimes.
Meghan was her friend. If she didn't want to tell her about her friendship, or infatuation, with the Slytherin Chaser, that was her own business. He was a Slytherin, after all. A pretty decent one in comparison, but still a Slytherin. It's not something that a lot of Ravenclaws would want to become public knowledge, especially when most of the boys (and many girls) in their year still considered interest in the opposite sex the cause of uncontrollable giggling fits.
It might go beyond that, too, Kayla mused as the crowd reacted to Wendell Redmond's foul on James. If Meghan really did fancy Scorpius, or even if she liked him as a friend, she might be keeping her silence to protect him more than herself. She might get get ribbed by her Ravenclaw classmates if she were interested in a Slytherin. But Scorpius would have to deal with much worse in his House. Kayla had heard horror stories about the in-House battles between the Purebloods and the so-called Blood Traitors, and also knew that Malfoy was a primary target because of his family's history. News that he was involved, on any level, with a Muggleborn would only exacerbate his situation.
Not to mention the target she would suddenly become to other Slytherins...
No, she'd tell Kayla when the time was right.
"Ha, first foul shot made!" Fred cheered as Clark Hodgson tossed the penalty Quaffle through the center Slytherin hoop. "Pay up, T-Bone," he said, smacking Tom on the shoulder.
"Not loving that nickname," said Tom flatly, digging into his pockets.
"I agree," said Evan to Fred. "We gotta come up with something better."
"And how," Tom continued, "did I get talked into making wagers on a sport that I've never seen before?"
"Because we has charisma," said Fred with a gleeful wink.
"We're just playing," said Evan, grabbing Tom's arm when he tried handing the knut over. "We'll tally up at the end of the year, loser buys the others a -- Foul! FOUL!"
"And another foul on Slytherin," Marion Lowman announced as the Gryffindor crowd booed lustily. "This time on Beater Tarren Orlo, once again against James Potter, who seems to be drawing a lot of attention in the early goings. And here's Mallon with the penalty shot -- and she scores! And the score is now 30-10 Gryffindor with the Snitch nowhere in sight."
It didn't remain 30-10 for long. Slytherin took full advantage of their next possession, with Scorpius Malfoy one-timing it to Xavier MacDougal to make it 30-20. Gryffindor quickly recovered, with Stephen Dean and Alexandra Mallon teaming up to get it through Pamela Long to make it 40-20. In response, Tarren Orlo committed another flagrant foul on James Potter, nearly side-checking him off his broom. Long kept Dean from scoring on the resulting penalty shot, but Clark Hodgson scored seconds later after Wendell Redmond stabbed his Beater's bat into Potter's ribs.
"Time out!" MacDougal yelled, forming a T over his head with his hands as the Gryffindor stands roared. "Hooch, time out!"
Madam Hooch, her face still flushed from screaming out those fouls at the Slytherin Beaters, blew her whistle. "Time out, Slytherin!"
---------
"What the fuck are you doing?" Xavier screamed before his feet even touched the grass.
"Playin' the game, Coach," said Orlo. Redmond responded with an oafish chuckle that made Scorpius's stomach churn sickly.
"Playin' the... Playin' the game?" Xavier stammered. "You... You're costing us the bloody Cup, is what you're doing!"
"You're losing us points!" yelled Pamela Long. "Every time we get the Quaffle through the bloody hoop, you cunts give them right back!"
"You don't want to talk to us like that," said Wendell, taking a menacing step towards the small Slytherin fourth year (who, for her part, didn't flinch). "You really don't."
"Little toerag deserves what he's gettin," said Orlo, looking over at the Gryffindors. "Pisshead Potter, thinks he's better than us..."
"Look, do you want to get ejected from the match?" said Scorpius. "Because if you keep it up Hooch isn't going to have any choice than--"
"You don't talk, Shit N' Piss," Orlo spat. "You'll watch your mouth if you know what's good for you."
"I don't care who it is on the other side!" Xavier said, grabbing Orlo's collar. "It could be Godric Gryffindor himself, back from the dead with his shiny sword and swinging cod, you will not lose this match for me, no matter what orders Alan fucking Runcorn gave you, do you hear me?"
"What?" said Redmond. "Would you rather we not do anything to Potter? Let him and Quentin have the run of the Bludgers?"
"Do whatever you need to do," MacDougal growled. "Just don't get caught. If you get one more whistle I swear to Merlin you will be off this team."
Orlo and Redmond exchanged looks that said they didn't care one lick that MacDougal was threatening their positions. Scorpius knew as well as they did that without them Slytherin didn't stand a chance for the rest of the season. Xavier's threats were nothing but empty promises. He looked around at Piper and Long. They knew it, too.
"Alright," MacDougal said, forcing himself to calm. "Piper, Malfoy, you feed me that Quaffle as fast as you can; I can outstrip those Gryffindors easy. Long, watch Hodgson's feint, he likes to take it to the left hoop then switch last minute. Swindell, you catch that fucking Snitch, got it?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Arwen Swindell, who was the only member of the team not riveted to Xavier's every word. She was trained well; during the entire timeout she had kept her eyes on the skies, watching for any glimmer of gold that she could attack when the whistle blew once again.
"Get up there," said Xavier. "Get up there and murder those Gryffindor bastards."
The closest thing they knew they would get to an inspirational speech, the Slytherins remounted their brooms and flew back into the air. Scorpius turned around to see the two Beaters hanging behind, whispering to each other and pointing around. The looks on their faces and the sharpness of their movements did nothing to alleviate Scorpius's worries of what was to come.
Hooch handed the Quaffle to MacDougal. The whistle blew. The match continued.
Slytherin responded quickly. MacDougal, true to his word, slid past the Gryffindor Chasers like a snake through the weeds, chucking the Quaffle through the hoop with little opposition. After Mallon threw the Quaffle wide left, Long fed back to Malfoy, who quickly passed off to MacDougal who, once again, easily scored on the quickly-overmatched Lauren Fuller.
"The scoring's picking up now!" yelled Marion Lowman over the deafening Slytherin cheers. "Xavier MacDougal is absolutely eating up the Gryffindor defense, and Slytherin has drawn to within ten points. Now Hodgson with the Quaffle -- stolen by MacDougal, swerves past Mallon, past Dean, and BLUDGERED BY POTTER!"
Xavier recoiled from the Bludger to his Quaffle arm, dropping the ball, which was picked up by Hodgson. MacDougal quickly recovered and flew after the Gryffindor Captain, Piper right in his wake. Malfoy took a quick look back--
Saw Orlo and Redmond exchange signals. Saw them both veer towards James Potter at top speed, bats raised to strike.
"Potter, drop!"
Scorpius didn't know why he yelled it. He wasn't even sure that James immediately realized who was the one yelling the warning. He reacted instinctively. Not looking left or right, James pulled back on his broomstick, forcing it to let gravity take over. He fell ten feet, coming to a stop with at least twenty feet left to go. He looked up just in time to see Orlo and Redmond blast their bats into each others stomachs, the trajectory of their arms and broomsticks impossible to stop until it was too late.
James looked over at Scorpius, now realizing who warned him. He opened his mouth to say something...
"I want to win," Scorpius interrupted, heard only by James as the crowd reacted to both the collision and MacDougal's goal on the other end to tie the game. "Foul shots won't help, and two ejected Beaters won't help. They want you out in the hospital. Consider that your warning."
James floated there in stunned silence as Scorpius took off towards the action.
"After an amazing dodge by Potter," said Lowman, oblivious to Malfoy's warning to the Gryffindor, "it's Hodgson in possession. Orlo and Wendell have recovered, I guess their stomachs are so thick that getting a bat to the chest is like a light sneeze to them. Mallon takes the pass, Malfoy right on her tail. Mallon to Dean, Dean to Mallon, and oh wow!"
Scorpius's vision exploded into white, and he felt a pain in his jaw that was beyond anything he had ever felt. He fought to retain his balance on his broomstick, tightening his grip, knowing that he was close to slipping.
"And Mallon scores!" Lowman yelled as Scorpius found his footing. "And Malfoy is shaken after a rare miss by Orlo. Usually a Bludger off his bat will hit where he wants it, but that was just a poorly-aimed shot that hit his teammate and cost the Slytherins ten points.
Malfoy turned around, his jaw already feeling too big for his face. He could taste the blood, and he wasn't sure if it hurt less to close it or to leave it hanging open.
But his pain was quickly numbed as a chill ran through his body. Both Orlo and Redmond were staring at him. He knew the look in their eyes. They knew that he warned Potter about their attack. And he also knew something that Marion Lowman didn't: that Bludger didn't miss its target.
Malfoy was off. The Beaters were off. Piper, unaware of what had just really happened, lobbed the Quaffle back to Malfoy. He caught it with numb, shaking hands, feeling the two behemoths breathing down his back.
Hodgson and Dean in front of him. MacDougal between them twenty feet ahead. Pass and dodge, or just dodge? Avoid the Gryffindors or avoid the Slytherins? Win and get murdered or just get murdered?
Use the Gryffindors.
Malfoy leaned forward on his broomstick, urging it into its top acceleration. Both Gryffindors expecting him to pass, he was able to blast through Dean and Hodgson, hoping that they would be able to block the two Beaters, or at least throw them off.
The two grunts from behind proved that it wasn't enough.
He was flying as fast as he could. The crowd was roaring, still unaware that he was flying for his life as well as for the hoops. The Quaffle was tucked securely between his chest and his broomstick, and he had no intention of pulling it out, of letting his arms increase the drag or become comfortably breakable targets.
He had a better, more maneuverable broom, but they had experience. They were on him. They checked him, crunching him like deli meat in a pastrami and cinder block sandwich. He felt elbows in ribs. Elbows in arms. Elbows in temples. Bats everywhere else.
"Malfoy still with the Quaffle," said Lowman, a note of uncertainty in her voice. "Orlo and Redmond are... protecting him really closely... I think... um..."
She was saved the trouble of having to explain further. The crowd, still confused about what was happening with the three Slytherins, found something else to draw their attention: Rayne and Swindell were on the move. The Snitch had been found.
Malfoy was in pain as he tried to pull away from the two goons. He slowed, they slowed. He sped up, they sped up.
They pulled away. Or were pulled away, more like it.
"Potter! Quentin!" Hodgson was yelling. "Forget the Quaffle, go after the Seeker!"
Malfoy dared to look up, fully prepared for a bat in the face. Orlo and Redmond were gone. He was now flanked by two maroon-and-golds.
"Potter and Quentin have broken through the... unique defense displayed by the Slytherin Beaters," said Lowman, regaining her bearings. "And now Orlo and Redmond are... trying to help Malfoy to break loose from them?"
Orlo and Redmond found the Bludgers flying around the field. Swung at them. Aimed them directly at Scorpius Malfoy. Both were batted away by the Gryffindor Beaters.
"Get off Malfoy!" Hodgson was now screaming.
"Orlo! Redmond!" MacDougal hollered. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Get to Amanda!"
"Swindell! Help Swindell!"
"Swindell and Rayne are in hot pursuit of the Snitch," said Lowman, trying to keep her composure. "Orlo and Redmond are trying to... hit Potter and Quentin? No.. Wait... Potter and Quentin are trying to get the Quaffle from Malfoy... But, no, they're not... Where's a foul?"
It was chaos not seen on a Hogwarts Quidditch pitch not seen since the Thestral Stampede of 1853. Arwen Swindell was diving to and fro around the pitch, her eye on the Snitch. Behind her was Amanda Rayne, the Gryffindor Seeker, hoping to catch up to the Slytherin, but her broomstick was held by Dave Piper, one of the Slytherin Chasers, who himself was being chased by Stephen Dean.
Meanwhile, two Slytherin Beaters were attacking a Slytherin Chaser with everything they had in them. The Slytherin Chaser was being defended by two Gryffindor Beaters. The remaining Chasers from both teams, and the Keepers from both sides, were trying like hell to stop the Slytherin Beaters while still trying to get the upper hand should the Slytherin Chaser with the Quaffle, the Slytherin Chaser protected by the Gryffindor Beaters, break loose and go on a scoring tear before the Snitch was caught.
The entire time the referee, Madam Hooch, floated there, not even sure where to start. There were no fouls to be seen. The two Slytherin Beaters had been brutalizing the Slytherin Chaser, but who gets the penalty shot: the Slytherins because they were fouled or the Gryffindors because the Slytherins had caused the foul?
Things became even more complicated, if that were possible, when the Slytherin Chaser currently in possession of the Quaffle broke loose from the two Gryffindors and flew directly at the Slytherin Beaters, plowing into the larger of the two at top speed and knocking him from his broom. Hooch was finally able to break from her confusion. This was something she knew how to handle. Her wand pulled from her robes and aimed at the falling Slytherin, catching him and lowering him to the ground.
A bolt from the stands. Connecting with the Slytherin attacker. The Quaffle falls from his hands and he, also, falls towards the ground. Madam Hooch's heart stops, as her wand is already occupied with the first victim. The Gryffindor Beaters are in action, catching the Slytherin Chaser before he lands. He's still moving. Just stunned. Hooch breathes easier, but wonders where the bolt of energy came from.
"THE SNITCH!" Lowman screamed over the apoplectic crowd. "SWINDELL HAS THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS! SLYTHERIN WINS!"
The stands exploded; Slytherin fans poured down the aisles to the ground, where they swarmed around Arwen Swindell. She was lifted into the air and set on a pair of shoulders, the Golden Snitch raised triumphantly over her head. Numerous students from the other schools came down as well; the Gryffindors, in particular, were out in force, both to console their losing team and to confront the jubilant Slytherins on their questionable tactics.
Scorpius touched down, collapsing to the ground in pain. Everywhere felt bruised, and he was sure that he'd be spending another night in the hospital wing. I looked up and that Orlo and Redmond were already bearing down on him like two mad bulls. His first instinct was to run to the castle at full tilt, but before he could move, MacDougal stepped in between them, facing the two Beaters.
"What the fuck was that?" he screamed, his face purple with rage. "You... You... You disobey a direct command from your captain and go straight after Potter, then... then... then... YOUR OWN CHASER? You're lucky we won the match, you insubordinate pieces of shit, or else I'd--"
"Won? You think you won?"
Xavier spun on his heel, the rage slipping into fear and dismay. Madam Hooch was storming towards them, red splotches of anger on her cheeks, her broom clenched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles were white.
"Never... Never in all of my years have I seen such a brazen and disgusting display of unprofessionalism and poor sportsmanship and... and... and brutality!" she said, glaring down Orlo and Redmond (an impressive act, considering they were a foot taller). "Your actions leave me no choice but to forfeit this match to Gryffindor!"
"What?" Xavier cried. "Madam Hooch, no!"
"What else did you expect, MacDougal?" said Hooch. "Cheating! Flagrant fouls without end! Attacking your own Chaser, the only one who showed any level of restraint and personal responsibility in this fiasco!"
"But I didn't--" Xavier stammered. "It was my Beaters-- I mean, not my Beaters, I didn't tell them to-- they--"
"I don't want to hear it!" said Hooch. "All points earned by Slytherin for this match will be stripped from the Quidditch Cup standings, and the Golden Snitch points will be given to Gryffindor!"
Scorpius tried to stand. Tried to tell Hooch to not do it. It was the Beaters that caused the disturbance, after all. MacDougal didn't deserve the loss. Piper and Long didn't deserve the loss, nor did Swindell, who deflated like a balloon as Hooch pronounced her sentence upon all seven of them and the surrounding Gryffindors roared in excitement at their windfall.
He tried to find his feet, but staggered. He thought he was going to fall, but felt a body press against his side, supporting him. An arm slung around his waist.
"Are you alright?"
He looked over to see the concerned face of Meghan Cullen beside him, keeping him from falling. His heart froze.
"Could be better," he groaned; his jaw throbbed as he spoke. "You shouldn't be here."
"Yeah, I probably shouldn't," she said. "Deal with it."
"We will," Scorpius said, watching the proceedings continue. "We'll have to. Both of us." Xavier was still berating Orlo and Redmond who were now, to Scorpius's dismay, joined by Alan Runcorn, the Pureblood leader. The two Beaters were now pointing in Malfoy's direction. Xavier stopped talking. Turned towards Scorpius and Meghan,his face slack with shock.
"You..." he said. "You did this?"
"What?"
"You warned Potter that he was going to get hit?" Xavier demanded. "You made them collide with each other? You double-crossing Blood Traitor!"
"You're mad!" Scorpius yelled. "I didn't double-cross anyone! They were going to cost us points, you said so yourself!"
"You cost me my match!" Xavier yelled, advancing. "We could have given them a penalty shot and took Potter out of the game! But, no, you cost us the win because you wanted to protect your Gryffindor mates! You fucking Blood Traitor, I'll kill you!"
The four Purebloods stormed towards Scorpius and Meghan, their wands out, their eyes blazing with the need to cause world-class pain. Scorpius reached for his wand, knowing he was no match for the four upperclassmen even if he didn't already feel like he had been dragged through a dragon nest.
Maroon and gold robes stepped in front of him. Two of them. Then four. Then seven.
"Back off, Runcorn," said James Potter, he and Chase Quentin standing with the other Gryffindor Quidditch players, their wands out and pointed at the Purebloods.
"Ooh, you're outnumbering us," said Alan. "So fucking brave."
"Yeah, because four-on-two is so even," said Chase. "Back off."
"You want a fight, Potter?" Runcorn asked. "Cuz I've been waiting years to get a piece of you."
And the four were no longer alone. Arwen Swindell stood with them, the Snitch still defiantly clutched in her hand. So did Kimberly Green, and Scorpius's classmates Holden Harkiss and Arnold King. Other Purebloods were moving in their direction, as well, looking for a fight.
But Scorpius was no longer alone. Meghan was with him. The Gryffindors were with him. Now Dave Piper and Pamela Long. Now Galatea Davis and Gabriel Goyle, standing to Scorpius's left. And other Houses, as well: Scorpius saw Kayla Macmillan and Al Potter. Rose and Fabian Weasley. Prefects from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor, along with the Blood Traitor Slytherin prefects.
This is it, he thought. This is where the Blood Traitors and the Purebloods meet. Who would have thought it'd be here? Who would have thought it'd be me?
"Enough."
Scorpius felt his hair stand on end as a powerful surge of energy emerged between the two groups. The air shimmered as though they were looking through a heat mirage. Through the middle stepped Professor Tiberius Ogden, followed close behind by Professor Tonks and Professor Allentide.
"Hogwarts preaches unity," he said, his voice crackling with authority. "For the last twenty years we have strove to find common ground between all classes and bloodlines. It was the belief of Albus Dumbledore, it was the belief of Minerva McGonnagal, and it is my belief. I refuse to allow my school to devolve into gang warfare. This fight between the supporters of blood purity and blood equality has raged for too long.
"It ends tonight."
"Wendell Redmond and Tarren Orlo," said Tonks, her voice shaking with anger. "As of now you receive six months of detention. You will spend the night separated from your Slytherin housemates for their own safety, and tomorrow you will meet with Professor Ogden and myself to discuss the case for your immediate expulsion from Hogwarts. You will, of course, be given ample opportunity to state your defense."
"You wouldn't have the guts, Tonks," Runcorn sneered. "As soon as they're gone, you and Ogden are out of here."
"Alan Runcorn will also be isolated for the night," Tonks said, "and will also meet with us in regards to his magical attack on Scorpius Malfoy from the stands."
"I'll give you my case right now," said Runcorn. "I was defending my mate, Tarren. In case you didn't notice, Malfoy cannonballed him, knocked him off his broom. Completely uncalled for."
"Scorpius Malfoy will also meet with us," Tonks added.
"Yeah, and we all know how that's going to go," Runcorn muttered under his breath.
"There will be a zero-tolerance policy administered immediately," said Ogden. "Any student found to commit any act of violence against another outside of controlled classroom conditions will meet with myself and their Head of House. Detentions, suspensions, or expulsions will all be in play, with Ministry involvement in extreme cases."
"All Heads will spend the night in their House's common rooms," said Allentide, "and all prefects will patrol their House's dormitories. All other professors will patrol the halls tonight and until this matter is resolved. Should any student feel threatened by their current roommates, speak to your Heads about temporary living accommodations."
"Heads and prefects, escort your students to their Houses," said Ogden. "Meals will be sent to the common rooms, and I expect to see no student in the halls tonight without proper clearance."
"Alrigh', off ta bed, alla ya!" Hagrid roared over the students, who had all started talking to each other at once. The half-giant's voice cut through their discussion, and they started to break away in twos and threes.
"Cyril," said Tonks, grabbing the caretaker's arm, "ask the house elves to prepare three dungeon rooms for the night."
"The dungeon?" Runcorn howled. "You're fucking kidding me!"
"Make it as comfortable as possible," Tonks added. "Mattress, heat, whatever. I want them isolated, not tortured. Hagrid, Aurora, Bjorn, you can escort these three?" she asked, pointing to Orlo, Redmond, and Runcorn.
"Sure thing, 'Dromeda," said Hagrid, eyeing the three Purebloods. "Come on, you lot," he said, motioning with his umbrella. Runcorn looked back at the groundskeeper mutinously, then turned to Scorpius.
"I might get expelled," he said quietly enough for just a few to hear, "but what'll your dear old Mummy and Daddy think when my Dad tells them you're hooked up with a Mudblood?" At this, he turned to Meghan with a disgusting leer.
"I said, come on!" Hagrid repeated, grabbing Alan's arm. With one last blood-curdling laugh towards Meghan and Scorpius, Runcorn turned and made his way back to the castle with the two Beaters. Hagrid, Sinistra, and Forseti followed them close behind, wands prepared for anything.
"Andrew, Uriela, escort Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing," Allentide ordered Professor Reyburn and Longbottom.
"I'd ask that you both keep guard on the wing, as well," said Ogden, "even if it is in shifts. I fear some students may seek retribution on this young man, even with all our patrols."
"Sure thing, Professor," said the Muggle Studies professor. "Do you need some help, Scorpius?"
"No, I'm fine," said Scorpius, taking his first step and feeling his ankle buckle under him. To his relief, Meghan and Gabe caught him. Guess they must have gotten a bat or two down there, even, he thought as he threw his arms around their shoulders, even if Cullen was a good six inches shorter.
"I have you," said Meghan, putting her hand on his chest as Scorpius took another few steps towards the castle.
"Oy, Malfoy! Hold up!"
Scorpius stopped and tried to turn around, but couldn't with Cullen and Goyle on both sides. It didn't matter, though, because James Potter and Chase Quentin ran to catch up and get in front of him.
"Look," said James awkwardly. "I know I feel like an absolute... um... fraud saying this to a Slytherin, but... thanks."
"I was just trying to win the game," Scorpius sighed. "It wasn't personal."
"Well, don't take this the wrong way," said James, "but that's a load of crap. MacDougal was right; you wouldn't have lost the game if those ogres took me out. Gryffindor would have been short one Beater and I'd be in the hospital wing instead of you. I appreciate it."
And in a move that surprised them all, James held his hand out. Scorpius stared at it for what felt like minutes, realizing that this moment meant something irreversible.
He took James Potter's hand, and shook it.
"I can't say I'd do it again," he admitted. "But you're welcome."
"Yeah, I probably wouldn't have done it, either," James shrugged. "But what are you going to do?"
"Come on," said Uriela, motioning for Scorpius to follow her. "Let's get Hahnemann to take a look at you."
James and Chase stood back, allowing him to limp past with help from Meghan and Gabriel.
"Can we stay up there tonight with him?" Meghan asked the professors. "I mean," she added with a hard blush and a turn to Scorpius. "I mean, if you want us to."
Scorpius looked at Gabriel and Meghan. "Yeah, sure," he said, flinching as they hit a dip in the grass. "And I hate to tell you," he added to Meghan, "but you're involved in all of this now."
"I know," said Meghan, looking over at Rose and Kayla, both watching them with a look that Scorpius couldn't quite figure out. Was it fear? Happiness? Pity? Or was it the look that girls always seemed to get while listening to a sappy romantic story on the wireless?
"I think some people had us figured out for a while," she said. "Whatever us is. But that's fine. I can handle whatever's coming."
"Good," said Scorpius. "Cuz I'm ready, too."
"So, I'm going to go out on a limb here," said Gabriel as the two Slytherins, one Ravenclaw, and two professors made their way out of the Quittich grounds. "You're the infamous Meghan?"
"I am," said Meghan with another blush. "I'm infamous, now?"
"Well, now, yeah, probably," said Gabe with a reluctant grin, looking back at the crowd of Hogwarts students leaving the pitch, more than a few tossing curious looks at the trio. "I wanted to compliment you for a while now. Never had a better collection of sweets than the batch you bought Scorp for his birthday."
Meghan thought for a moment, then started to laugh. "Thanks," she said. "Did you like them?" she asked Scorpius.
"I didn't have any," said Scorpius.
"You didn't?"
"Gabe's a chocolates niffler," he said. "Give him a sniff, and they're gone. Sorry."
"I resemble that remark," Gabe chuckled. "I'd smack you if you weren't already mortally wounded."
"Don't worry about it," said Meghan to Scorpius. "I'll get you a proper present Hogsmeade weekend. Sound good?"
Scorpius looked up at the Ravenclaw. Thought about what Runcorn said: What will his parents think?
Oh, fuck it.
"Sounds like fun."
I Was Me / Previous Chapters / Watch Me
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Rating: R for language and mild violence
Summary: The first match of the year: Gryffindor v. Slytherin and Blood Traitor v. Pure Blood
Notes: I own I own these characters. The others belong to JK Rowling
I Was Me / Previous Chapters / Watch Me
As the Hugo Weasley and his fellow Hufflepuff first-years crossed the grounds, Drystan Bunker's mouth hung nearly down to his belt buckle.
"I've been here for over two months," he said to Harry Norley. "Why didn't I ever see this?"
Norley shrugged. "Magic?"
"Baby steps, Drystan," said Scarlett Scamander with a giggle. "You spent two weeks poking the talking paintings. Your brain just wasn't ready for the Quidditch pitch."
It was a bluebird-perfect November day: cool enough to enjoy the sun on your face, warm enough to not mind the gentle breeze blowing through the shedding branches of the Forbidden Forest. It was the kind of day that slowly vanishes into memory as the month trolls slowly into December. The late-autumn sun gave a contrast to the fluttering banners and glimmering hoops of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch that even Hugo, who had seen more than his share of professional Quidditch matches in his eleven years (Aunt Ginny always got free tickets), was impressed by.
"Hugo!"
He, as well as a few Hufflepuffs, glanced around to see his sister, Rose, jogging towards him, with their cousin Lily Potter close behind.
"We'll save you a seat, Hugh," said Norley, turning back to join the rest of the group.
"Alright," said Hugo, giving Norley (he still felt odd calling him Harry) a quick wave as the two Gryffindor girls caught up with him.
"Hugh?" Lily said with a wrinkled nose. "They're calling you Hugh now?"
"What?" Hugo asked as Rose laughed. "It's cool. It's, like, sophisticated, or something."
"Uh huh," said Lily, unconvinced.
"There've been loads of Hugos who go by Hugh..."
"Whatever you say, Hugh."
"So how are you doing?" asked Rose as the three continued their walk towards the pitch. "I haven't talked to you in a few days..."
"Doing good," said Hugo. "Homework's getting hard, you know? It's keeping me busy."
"Oh, I know!" said Lily. "How did you do on that paper Professor Allentide gave us? The one on Switching Spells?"
"I'm working on it tonight," said Hugo. "We were just assigned it on Thursday, we don't have class again until Monday."
"Lucky!" Lily said, aghast. "You get all weekend to work on it? We got ours on Tuesday and had to hand them in on Friday!"
"Well, how long did it have to be?" asked Rose.
"Six inches."
"We have to write eight!" said Hugo, equally scandalized.
"That's how Allentide works," said Rose with a shrug. "She'll assign more homework if you have the weekend to work on it. Keeps things fair, I guess. You haven't figured that out yet?"
"All I see is a big blinking red that says HOMEWORK EVIL," Lily admitted. "After that I sort of disappear into my own little world for a bit."
"How do you expect to learn anything if you don't focus on your work?"
"Hey, I learn loads!" said Lily. "You should see the tricks my imaginary marshmallow bunny friends can do."
"And people wonder why she has problems with Switching Spells, of all things," said Rose with a sigh.
"I'm joking," said Lily. "I do learn, even if I didn't do so well on that report. I'm just too busy worrying about the assignments themselves to be worried about how much I had today compared to yesterday."
"All I know is that there are two kinds of assignments," said Hugo as they crossed the threshold into the stands. "There are the hard assignments, and the really hard assignments."
"Ah, first years," came a voice from behind them. "So innocent of things to come."
"Hi, Nick," said Rose to Nicholas Hopkirk who, along with Nancy Sprague and Melody Callahan, were adorned in matching Gryffindor scarves.
"When you get to your OWL year," he continued to the two first years, "there are three types of assignments: really hard assignments, excruciating assignments, and "Oh Merlin, Make the Pain Stop!" assignments."
"Oh, be quiet," said Melody, slapping Nick on the arm as his melodramatic scream caused more than a few students to jump in alarm.
"Where's Al?" Nancy asked Rose as Nick gave Melody a look of indignant innocence.
"Back there somewhere," said Rose, motioning vaguely towards the castle. "He said he was waiting for Gid and Mattie."
"Moping, more like," said Lily. "He's still upset he didn't make the team," she explained to the fifth-years.
"He's not moping," said Rose bracingly. "Sure, he might be disappointed, but it's not like he's going on about it."
"Phhht, whatever," said Nick. "I don't see what the big deal is. I've tried out five years straight, and I still haven't made it."
"Yes, well, that's because you're horrible at it," said Melody, ducking out of the way with a squeal as Nick playfully lunged at her. The two had been dating since the beginning of the school year, according to rumors swirling around the Hufflepuff common room, but Hugo had been too worried about homework and classes to be concerned with it. He and Norley, who was becoming one of his best friends in the class, tended to just roll their eyes whenever that kind of conversation came up around them.
Girls, those eye rolls said more often than not.
"Careful!" Nancy laughed as Nick and Melody dodged around each other. "You'll knock someone over the railing!"
Whether Nancy, who bumped into Hugo as she jumped back from the wrestling Gryffindors, was dating James Potter was another matter of furious debate among the Hufflepuff gossip network. Since he was James's cousin, Hugo had found himself unwillingly pulled into these discussions on a few occasions, the older Hufflepuff girls often thinking he was unique source for such necessary information.
"If they are," he would always say, unnerved at the sudden attention, "he doesn't talk about it around me."
But despite his hesitancy to even care about the subject, Hugo didn't blame James for his obvious interest in the Gryffindor brunette. Hugo was old enough, and had enough older cousins, to know that he'd have to start noticing girls one of these days, even if he only thought of them as a mystery at present. And when that happened in that vague future, Hugo hoped he'd end up with someone as nice as Nancy.
"What are you still doing here, tiny?" Nick asked Hugo as he and Melody eventually calmed down. "Aren't you supposed to be over with the other Powderpuffs?"
"He's not tiny," said Lily with a smirk. "He's huuuuge."
"What I don't get," Hugo said through gritted teeth, "is why I get made fun of for being called Hugh, but Albus, Gideon, and Matilda get free passes on their nicknames."
"House privilege, midget," said Nick, ruffling Hugo's hair. "You can go back and make fun of Al or Jim or Gid or whoever you want with your Creampuffs. You can call her Lil, if you want," he added, pointing a thumb at Lily. "L'il Lily, even."
"I'll keep it in mind," Hugo said with a smile, fading quickly at Lily's glower.
No, Hugo didn't think he'd be using that nickname on her any time soon.
"You should go over to the Hufflepuff side, though," said Nancy. "The match is going to be starting at any time."
"We'll see you afterwards," Rose said to Hugo. "Hagrid's hut?"
"Yeah, I'll be there," said Hugo, looking across the pitch towards the Hufflepuff section, which was filling quickly. Norley better have held his seat...
"See you later, Hugh," said Nancy with a kind smile as Hugo departed.
No, Hugh thought happily as he made his way through the crowd, some girls were alright, after all.
---------
"Good morning, Hogwarts!" boomed the voice of Marion Lowman, the Hufflepuff commentator, over the crowd. "And welcome to the first match of the 2019-2020 Quidditch Cup season!"
"Come on, hurry up!" cried Matilda, pulling on Gideon's arm. "We're going to miss the opening!"
"We're not going to miss anything, Mattie," Albus sighed. "Everything happens above our heads. We don't need to be sitting to see it."
"I know, I know," said Matilda impatiently. "But still..."
"Careful with the tugging!" said Gideon, adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose from the jerking movement. "You'll break them!"
"Kids, right?" said Fabian to Albus with the sage-like tone of someone twenty years older than his fifteen years. Or like his own father. "No control."
"Sure thing, Dad," said Albus, looking around the bleachers for Rose and Lily. And there they were, sitting with Nick, Melody, and Nancy in an area already packed with other Gryffindors. Al's mood, which was already gloomy, sunk a little further. He had wanted to sit with Lily during the match, if for no other reason than to see her react to their big brother's performance for the first time.
And maybe to get a little sympathy for not being up there with him...
Albus tried to shut out that voice as quickly as he could. It didn't help anything. James was right; he was only a third year, after all. Everyone out for Gryffindor this year were fourth years at the youngest. That's how Hodgson, the Gryffindor Captain, liked to play it, and Albus couldn't say anything against it.
It just stunk that he was the first member of his family, Potter or Weasley, to not make the Quidditch team on their first try. Mum and Dad, Uncle Ron, Uncle George (as well as his late brother), Uncle Charlie. Even Granddad Weasley and Granddad Potter had made their squads straight out. It was competition and bloodlines like that that made Al occasionally feel like the lame duck of the family.
"Come on," said Fabian. "There's a gap up there, behind Professor Longbottom."
"In the first match of the year," Marion continued as the students climbed the stairs to their seats, "we have Gryffindor House, led by 'Comet' Clark Hodgson, going up against Xavier MacDougal's Slytherins! And here come the Gryffindors! Rayne, Fuller, Potter, Quentin, Mallon, Dean, and Hodgson!"
The maroon-and-gold section of the stands erupted as the Gryffindor team flew past them. Albus, Fabian, Gideon, and Matilda paused on their way down their row long enough to applaud before continuing on to their seats.
"Gryffindor has a lot of new faces this year," Lowman said as the team made a few laps around the pitch, "after barely winning their first Quidditch Cup last year in what was one of the tightest races in Hogwarts history. Gryffindor won the cup in their final match, with just ten points separating them from second place Hufflepuff and twenty from third place Slytherin. With Mallon and Dean in rookie stints as Chasers and Fuller taking her place in front of the hoops for the first time, Gryffindor's expected to take a step backwards this year. But time will tell.
"And now, here are the Slytherins: Swindell, Long, Orlo, Redmond, Malfoy, Piper, and MacDougal!"
It was the silver and green's turn to cheer, and the other Houses to boo and hiss, as their team, clad in black and silver with green trim, made their way out onto the pitch.
"Despite placing dead last in the House Cup for the last decade," Lowman explained as they made their laps, "Slytherin has remained a dominant force on the Quidditch pitch. Despite a narrow miss of the Quidditch Cup last year, MacDougal's teams have taken three of the last five championships, a pace not seen since the Gryffindor teams led by Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, and Harry Potter back in the 1990's, teams which also produced Quidditch League talent Katie Bell and 'Weasel' Potter. With Scorpius Malfoy coming on as a late replacement in the Chaser position, it will be interesting to see if Xavier MacDougal can win one more before he moves on to the Scottish National Team."
"Already?" asked Gideon as the four sat down behind Professor Longbottom, who was too engrossed in a conversation with Professor Clavis-Longbottom and Professor Reyburn to notice their appearance.
"Already," Fabian replied. "Xavier's good. Considering how much in-fighting goes on every year with the Slytherin team, the fact that he can carry them as well as he does is proof of just how good he is."
"Orlo and Piper are getting looks from the professional clubs, too," said Albus, "and Orlo's just a fifth year, so that's saying something."
"Well, he'll be old enough by the time the next World Cup comes around," said Fabian.
Fabian's last words were yelled over the cheering crowd, their energy elevated even higher as Madam Hooch carried the box to the middle of the field and the two captains, Hodgson and MacDougal, flew to meet her and to shake hands.
"And there's the whistle," Lowman boomed, "there's the release, and we're underway! And it's MacDougal with the Quaffle. Pass to Malfoy. Malfoy to Piper, Piper back to Malfoy, who dodges a brilliant Bludger from Potter and a near steal from Mallon. Malfoy doubled up by Mallon and Dean, pass back to MacDougal, who takes the quick shot on goal, blocked by Long!"
"--to use one of the unused classrooms," Albus heard from the row in front when the Gryffindor crowd's reaction to the save waned. "The administration dormitories weren't designed for two people, let alone three, so--"
"Are you talking about Madam Lovegood?" Albus asked Professor Longbottom.
"I am," said Neville, pulling away from his conversation with Professor Reyburn.
"So it's definitely going to happen, then?" asked Albus, his focus on the game temporarily averted. "She's going to be moving to Hogwarts? Mum mentioned in her last owl that she might."
"It is going to happen," Neville said with a nod. "We had the meeting with the rest of the faculty last night, and it was approved."
"When's Madam Lovegood coming?" asked Matilda.
"Next weekend," said Neville, his tone dropping slightly. "And I would ask that you not pass this information around the school until Professor Ogden or the House Heads make a formal announcement. It will be hard enough keeping misinformation spreading once she gets here; the last thing we want are any unfounded rumors about Luna's condition circulating before she's even signed out of St. Mungo's."
Gryffindor rose to its feet and screamed its approval as Mallon tossed the Quaffle past Fuller and through the Slytherin's right hoop.
"Slytherin back in possession," said Lowman as the scoreboard flipped to GRYFFINDOR 10 0 SLYTHERIN. "MacDougal with the Quaffle, lob to Piper, Piper back to MacDougal, dodges Hodgson and takes a Bludger from Quentin!"
"Is there anything we can do?" Matilda asked Neville as the three boys found their attention drawn back into the game. "Dad says Vickie's still miserable about everything, so if I can do anything to help make things better for Madam Lovegood--"
"Well, the first thing you can do," said Neville with a patient smile, "is stop calling her Madam Lovegood. Luna is what she'll be going by, at least until she remembers that it is her name. Repetition is key, from what the Healers say, so we'll call her nothing but Luna until it sticks. Last names come later."
"But anything else?"
"Whatever happens," Neville shrugged. "We're kind of playing this as we go, just like the Healers were. She'll be staying with me and Uri, and she'll be spending time in the halls, time on the grounds, time in Hogsmeade. Hagrid's going to re-introduce her to some of the animals, she always liked those. But just be supportive, be patient, and be kind. That's all that can be asked of anyone until we start seeing progress."
"The other teachers are going to be doing everything they can to help," Professor Reyburn added. "A lot of them had Luna as a student, and there's not one of us who don't know how important she's been to the magical community. Don't be surprised if we allow her to sit in on some classes, too, in case remembering specific spells or books might help her in her recovery."
"But, um," Matilda said carefully, knowing she was going to ask a question that she wouldn't dare ask her older sister, "are we going to see any progress? I mean, Memory Charms, they're, like, permanent, aren't they?"
"Hodgson with the Quaffle," said Lawson as Neville carefully thought over a proper answer. "Pass to Mallon-- oh, who takes another brutal hit from Orlo! I'll say this: in the early minutes of this game it's obvious that both sides Beaters are at the tops of their games so far. Both Orlo and Redmond and Potter and Quentin have kept this a very low-scoring, very defensive-minded contest--"
"I don't know," Neville said finally. "I don't know what's going to happen. Maybe nothing will happen. But... But she's my friend. And if she's going to go the rest of her life not remembering herself, then I'm going to do my best to make sure that she wakes up to something better than a hospital room."
"Malfoy with the Quaffle, dodges Hodgson and wow, another shot to the back from Potter--but he holds on! Dodges Mallon, dodges Quentin, Fuller's the only one between him and the hoop. Malfoy rears back, chucks the Quaffle, and--!"
---------
"WOOOOOO!!"
"What was that?" Fred Weasley asked, his head spinning so fast that Evan Dursley heard it crack.
"What?" Meghan Cullen asked, her face growing red.
"It's Slytherin," asked Fred. "Why would you root for them?"
Meghan cleared her throat nervously, suddenly conscious that everyone sitting around her in the Ravenclaw section was staring. "Well, um," she stammered. "It's just that... um... Gryffindor's the better team, and... and I want them to lose so Ravenclaw has a better chance of winning the Cup?"
Fred and Evan exchanged confused glances. To her left, Meghan could feel Kayla Macmillan's eyes boring into her temple.
"Uh huh," said Kayla skeptically.
"Actually, that kinda makes sense," said Tom Roberts thoughtfully. "If we think we have a better chance against Slytherin, then we don't want Gryffindor any higher in the standings."
"Yes," said Kayla drolly. "Yes, that makes very much sense and it is exactly why you cheered. Quite."
Meghan blush grew even deeper, but she remained silent. Kayla had no problem if Meghan Cullen was friends with Scorpius Malfoy. Kayla had no problem if Meghan fancied him with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Kayla hadn't pressed for any information about the night Scorpius Malfoy was in the hospital wing with her. Nor did she ask what happened to the second of the two boxes of cremes she had ordered from Honeydukes for Rose's birthday when Rose only ended up with one of them. Nor did she comment on the seemingly innocuous looks that Meghan tossed across to the Slytherin table at mealtimes.
Meghan was her friend. If she didn't want to tell her about her friendship, or infatuation, with the Slytherin Chaser, that was her own business. He was a Slytherin, after all. A pretty decent one in comparison, but still a Slytherin. It's not something that a lot of Ravenclaws would want to become public knowledge, especially when most of the boys (and many girls) in their year still considered interest in the opposite sex the cause of uncontrollable giggling fits.
It might go beyond that, too, Kayla mused as the crowd reacted to Wendell Redmond's foul on James. If Meghan really did fancy Scorpius, or even if she liked him as a friend, she might be keeping her silence to protect him more than herself. She might get get ribbed by her Ravenclaw classmates if she were interested in a Slytherin. But Scorpius would have to deal with much worse in his House. Kayla had heard horror stories about the in-House battles between the Purebloods and the so-called Blood Traitors, and also knew that Malfoy was a primary target because of his family's history. News that he was involved, on any level, with a Muggleborn would only exacerbate his situation.
Not to mention the target she would suddenly become to other Slytherins...
No, she'd tell Kayla when the time was right.
"Ha, first foul shot made!" Fred cheered as Clark Hodgson tossed the penalty Quaffle through the center Slytherin hoop. "Pay up, T-Bone," he said, smacking Tom on the shoulder.
"Not loving that nickname," said Tom flatly, digging into his pockets.
"I agree," said Evan to Fred. "We gotta come up with something better."
"And how," Tom continued, "did I get talked into making wagers on a sport that I've never seen before?"
"Because we has charisma," said Fred with a gleeful wink.
"We're just playing," said Evan, grabbing Tom's arm when he tried handing the knut over. "We'll tally up at the end of the year, loser buys the others a -- Foul! FOUL!"
"And another foul on Slytherin," Marion Lowman announced as the Gryffindor crowd booed lustily. "This time on Beater Tarren Orlo, once again against James Potter, who seems to be drawing a lot of attention in the early goings. And here's Mallon with the penalty shot -- and she scores! And the score is now 30-10 Gryffindor with the Snitch nowhere in sight."
It didn't remain 30-10 for long. Slytherin took full advantage of their next possession, with Scorpius Malfoy one-timing it to Xavier MacDougal to make it 30-20. Gryffindor quickly recovered, with Stephen Dean and Alexandra Mallon teaming up to get it through Pamela Long to make it 40-20. In response, Tarren Orlo committed another flagrant foul on James Potter, nearly side-checking him off his broom. Long kept Dean from scoring on the resulting penalty shot, but Clark Hodgson scored seconds later after Wendell Redmond stabbed his Beater's bat into Potter's ribs.
"Time out!" MacDougal yelled, forming a T over his head with his hands as the Gryffindor stands roared. "Hooch, time out!"
Madam Hooch, her face still flushed from screaming out those fouls at the Slytherin Beaters, blew her whistle. "Time out, Slytherin!"
---------
"What the fuck are you doing?" Xavier screamed before his feet even touched the grass.
"Playin' the game, Coach," said Orlo. Redmond responded with an oafish chuckle that made Scorpius's stomach churn sickly.
"Playin' the... Playin' the game?" Xavier stammered. "You... You're costing us the bloody Cup, is what you're doing!"
"You're losing us points!" yelled Pamela Long. "Every time we get the Quaffle through the bloody hoop, you cunts give them right back!"
"You don't want to talk to us like that," said Wendell, taking a menacing step towards the small Slytherin fourth year (who, for her part, didn't flinch). "You really don't."
"Little toerag deserves what he's gettin," said Orlo, looking over at the Gryffindors. "Pisshead Potter, thinks he's better than us..."
"Look, do you want to get ejected from the match?" said Scorpius. "Because if you keep it up Hooch isn't going to have any choice than--"
"You don't talk, Shit N' Piss," Orlo spat. "You'll watch your mouth if you know what's good for you."
"I don't care who it is on the other side!" Xavier said, grabbing Orlo's collar. "It could be Godric Gryffindor himself, back from the dead with his shiny sword and swinging cod, you will not lose this match for me, no matter what orders Alan fucking Runcorn gave you, do you hear me?"
"What?" said Redmond. "Would you rather we not do anything to Potter? Let him and Quentin have the run of the Bludgers?"
"Do whatever you need to do," MacDougal growled. "Just don't get caught. If you get one more whistle I swear to Merlin you will be off this team."
Orlo and Redmond exchanged looks that said they didn't care one lick that MacDougal was threatening their positions. Scorpius knew as well as they did that without them Slytherin didn't stand a chance for the rest of the season. Xavier's threats were nothing but empty promises. He looked around at Piper and Long. They knew it, too.
"Alright," MacDougal said, forcing himself to calm. "Piper, Malfoy, you feed me that Quaffle as fast as you can; I can outstrip those Gryffindors easy. Long, watch Hodgson's feint, he likes to take it to the left hoop then switch last minute. Swindell, you catch that fucking Snitch, got it?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Arwen Swindell, who was the only member of the team not riveted to Xavier's every word. She was trained well; during the entire timeout she had kept her eyes on the skies, watching for any glimmer of gold that she could attack when the whistle blew once again.
"Get up there," said Xavier. "Get up there and murder those Gryffindor bastards."
The closest thing they knew they would get to an inspirational speech, the Slytherins remounted their brooms and flew back into the air. Scorpius turned around to see the two Beaters hanging behind, whispering to each other and pointing around. The looks on their faces and the sharpness of their movements did nothing to alleviate Scorpius's worries of what was to come.
Hooch handed the Quaffle to MacDougal. The whistle blew. The match continued.
Slytherin responded quickly. MacDougal, true to his word, slid past the Gryffindor Chasers like a snake through the weeds, chucking the Quaffle through the hoop with little opposition. After Mallon threw the Quaffle wide left, Long fed back to Malfoy, who quickly passed off to MacDougal who, once again, easily scored on the quickly-overmatched Lauren Fuller.
"The scoring's picking up now!" yelled Marion Lowman over the deafening Slytherin cheers. "Xavier MacDougal is absolutely eating up the Gryffindor defense, and Slytherin has drawn to within ten points. Now Hodgson with the Quaffle -- stolen by MacDougal, swerves past Mallon, past Dean, and BLUDGERED BY POTTER!"
Xavier recoiled from the Bludger to his Quaffle arm, dropping the ball, which was picked up by Hodgson. MacDougal quickly recovered and flew after the Gryffindor Captain, Piper right in his wake. Malfoy took a quick look back--
Saw Orlo and Redmond exchange signals. Saw them both veer towards James Potter at top speed, bats raised to strike.
"Potter, drop!"
Scorpius didn't know why he yelled it. He wasn't even sure that James immediately realized who was the one yelling the warning. He reacted instinctively. Not looking left or right, James pulled back on his broomstick, forcing it to let gravity take over. He fell ten feet, coming to a stop with at least twenty feet left to go. He looked up just in time to see Orlo and Redmond blast their bats into each others stomachs, the trajectory of their arms and broomsticks impossible to stop until it was too late.
James looked over at Scorpius, now realizing who warned him. He opened his mouth to say something...
"I want to win," Scorpius interrupted, heard only by James as the crowd reacted to both the collision and MacDougal's goal on the other end to tie the game. "Foul shots won't help, and two ejected Beaters won't help. They want you out in the hospital. Consider that your warning."
James floated there in stunned silence as Scorpius took off towards the action.
"After an amazing dodge by Potter," said Lowman, oblivious to Malfoy's warning to the Gryffindor, "it's Hodgson in possession. Orlo and Wendell have recovered, I guess their stomachs are so thick that getting a bat to the chest is like a light sneeze to them. Mallon takes the pass, Malfoy right on her tail. Mallon to Dean, Dean to Mallon, and oh wow!"
Scorpius's vision exploded into white, and he felt a pain in his jaw that was beyond anything he had ever felt. He fought to retain his balance on his broomstick, tightening his grip, knowing that he was close to slipping.
"And Mallon scores!" Lowman yelled as Scorpius found his footing. "And Malfoy is shaken after a rare miss by Orlo. Usually a Bludger off his bat will hit where he wants it, but that was just a poorly-aimed shot that hit his teammate and cost the Slytherins ten points.
Malfoy turned around, his jaw already feeling too big for his face. He could taste the blood, and he wasn't sure if it hurt less to close it or to leave it hanging open.
But his pain was quickly numbed as a chill ran through his body. Both Orlo and Redmond were staring at him. He knew the look in their eyes. They knew that he warned Potter about their attack. And he also knew something that Marion Lowman didn't: that Bludger didn't miss its target.
Malfoy was off. The Beaters were off. Piper, unaware of what had just really happened, lobbed the Quaffle back to Malfoy. He caught it with numb, shaking hands, feeling the two behemoths breathing down his back.
Hodgson and Dean in front of him. MacDougal between them twenty feet ahead. Pass and dodge, or just dodge? Avoid the Gryffindors or avoid the Slytherins? Win and get murdered or just get murdered?
Use the Gryffindors.
Malfoy leaned forward on his broomstick, urging it into its top acceleration. Both Gryffindors expecting him to pass, he was able to blast through Dean and Hodgson, hoping that they would be able to block the two Beaters, or at least throw them off.
The two grunts from behind proved that it wasn't enough.
He was flying as fast as he could. The crowd was roaring, still unaware that he was flying for his life as well as for the hoops. The Quaffle was tucked securely between his chest and his broomstick, and he had no intention of pulling it out, of letting his arms increase the drag or become comfortably breakable targets.
He had a better, more maneuverable broom, but they had experience. They were on him. They checked him, crunching him like deli meat in a pastrami and cinder block sandwich. He felt elbows in ribs. Elbows in arms. Elbows in temples. Bats everywhere else.
"Malfoy still with the Quaffle," said Lowman, a note of uncertainty in her voice. "Orlo and Redmond are... protecting him really closely... I think... um..."
She was saved the trouble of having to explain further. The crowd, still confused about what was happening with the three Slytherins, found something else to draw their attention: Rayne and Swindell were on the move. The Snitch had been found.
Malfoy was in pain as he tried to pull away from the two goons. He slowed, they slowed. He sped up, they sped up.
They pulled away. Or were pulled away, more like it.
"Potter! Quentin!" Hodgson was yelling. "Forget the Quaffle, go after the Seeker!"
Malfoy dared to look up, fully prepared for a bat in the face. Orlo and Redmond were gone. He was now flanked by two maroon-and-golds.
"Potter and Quentin have broken through the... unique defense displayed by the Slytherin Beaters," said Lowman, regaining her bearings. "And now Orlo and Redmond are... trying to help Malfoy to break loose from them?"
Orlo and Redmond found the Bludgers flying around the field. Swung at them. Aimed them directly at Scorpius Malfoy. Both were batted away by the Gryffindor Beaters.
"Get off Malfoy!" Hodgson was now screaming.
"Orlo! Redmond!" MacDougal hollered. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Get to Amanda!"
"Swindell! Help Swindell!"
"Swindell and Rayne are in hot pursuit of the Snitch," said Lowman, trying to keep her composure. "Orlo and Redmond are trying to... hit Potter and Quentin? No.. Wait... Potter and Quentin are trying to get the Quaffle from Malfoy... But, no, they're not... Where's a foul?"
It was chaos not seen on a Hogwarts Quidditch pitch not seen since the Thestral Stampede of 1853. Arwen Swindell was diving to and fro around the pitch, her eye on the Snitch. Behind her was Amanda Rayne, the Gryffindor Seeker, hoping to catch up to the Slytherin, but her broomstick was held by Dave Piper, one of the Slytherin Chasers, who himself was being chased by Stephen Dean.
Meanwhile, two Slytherin Beaters were attacking a Slytherin Chaser with everything they had in them. The Slytherin Chaser was being defended by two Gryffindor Beaters. The remaining Chasers from both teams, and the Keepers from both sides, were trying like hell to stop the Slytherin Beaters while still trying to get the upper hand should the Slytherin Chaser with the Quaffle, the Slytherin Chaser protected by the Gryffindor Beaters, break loose and go on a scoring tear before the Snitch was caught.
The entire time the referee, Madam Hooch, floated there, not even sure where to start. There were no fouls to be seen. The two Slytherin Beaters had been brutalizing the Slytherin Chaser, but who gets the penalty shot: the Slytherins because they were fouled or the Gryffindors because the Slytherins had caused the foul?
Things became even more complicated, if that were possible, when the Slytherin Chaser currently in possession of the Quaffle broke loose from the two Gryffindors and flew directly at the Slytherin Beaters, plowing into the larger of the two at top speed and knocking him from his broom. Hooch was finally able to break from her confusion. This was something she knew how to handle. Her wand pulled from her robes and aimed at the falling Slytherin, catching him and lowering him to the ground.
A bolt from the stands. Connecting with the Slytherin attacker. The Quaffle falls from his hands and he, also, falls towards the ground. Madam Hooch's heart stops, as her wand is already occupied with the first victim. The Gryffindor Beaters are in action, catching the Slytherin Chaser before he lands. He's still moving. Just stunned. Hooch breathes easier, but wonders where the bolt of energy came from.
"THE SNITCH!" Lowman screamed over the apoplectic crowd. "SWINDELL HAS THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS! SLYTHERIN WINS!"
The stands exploded; Slytherin fans poured down the aisles to the ground, where they swarmed around Arwen Swindell. She was lifted into the air and set on a pair of shoulders, the Golden Snitch raised triumphantly over her head. Numerous students from the other schools came down as well; the Gryffindors, in particular, were out in force, both to console their losing team and to confront the jubilant Slytherins on their questionable tactics.
Scorpius touched down, collapsing to the ground in pain. Everywhere felt bruised, and he was sure that he'd be spending another night in the hospital wing. I looked up and that Orlo and Redmond were already bearing down on him like two mad bulls. His first instinct was to run to the castle at full tilt, but before he could move, MacDougal stepped in between them, facing the two Beaters.
"What the fuck was that?" he screamed, his face purple with rage. "You... You... You disobey a direct command from your captain and go straight after Potter, then... then... then... YOUR OWN CHASER? You're lucky we won the match, you insubordinate pieces of shit, or else I'd--"
"Won? You think you won?"
Xavier spun on his heel, the rage slipping into fear and dismay. Madam Hooch was storming towards them, red splotches of anger on her cheeks, her broom clenched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles were white.
"Never... Never in all of my years have I seen such a brazen and disgusting display of unprofessionalism and poor sportsmanship and... and... and brutality!" she said, glaring down Orlo and Redmond (an impressive act, considering they were a foot taller). "Your actions leave me no choice but to forfeit this match to Gryffindor!"
"What?" Xavier cried. "Madam Hooch, no!"
"What else did you expect, MacDougal?" said Hooch. "Cheating! Flagrant fouls without end! Attacking your own Chaser, the only one who showed any level of restraint and personal responsibility in this fiasco!"
"But I didn't--" Xavier stammered. "It was my Beaters-- I mean, not my Beaters, I didn't tell them to-- they--"
"I don't want to hear it!" said Hooch. "All points earned by Slytherin for this match will be stripped from the Quidditch Cup standings, and the Golden Snitch points will be given to Gryffindor!"
Scorpius tried to stand. Tried to tell Hooch to not do it. It was the Beaters that caused the disturbance, after all. MacDougal didn't deserve the loss. Piper and Long didn't deserve the loss, nor did Swindell, who deflated like a balloon as Hooch pronounced her sentence upon all seven of them and the surrounding Gryffindors roared in excitement at their windfall.
He tried to find his feet, but staggered. He thought he was going to fall, but felt a body press against his side, supporting him. An arm slung around his waist.
"Are you alright?"
He looked over to see the concerned face of Meghan Cullen beside him, keeping him from falling. His heart froze.
"Could be better," he groaned; his jaw throbbed as he spoke. "You shouldn't be here."
"Yeah, I probably shouldn't," she said. "Deal with it."
"We will," Scorpius said, watching the proceedings continue. "We'll have to. Both of us." Xavier was still berating Orlo and Redmond who were now, to Scorpius's dismay, joined by Alan Runcorn, the Pureblood leader. The two Beaters were now pointing in Malfoy's direction. Xavier stopped talking. Turned towards Scorpius and Meghan,his face slack with shock.
"You..." he said. "You did this?"
"What?"
"You warned Potter that he was going to get hit?" Xavier demanded. "You made them collide with each other? You double-crossing Blood Traitor!"
"You're mad!" Scorpius yelled. "I didn't double-cross anyone! They were going to cost us points, you said so yourself!"
"You cost me my match!" Xavier yelled, advancing. "We could have given them a penalty shot and took Potter out of the game! But, no, you cost us the win because you wanted to protect your Gryffindor mates! You fucking Blood Traitor, I'll kill you!"
The four Purebloods stormed towards Scorpius and Meghan, their wands out, their eyes blazing with the need to cause world-class pain. Scorpius reached for his wand, knowing he was no match for the four upperclassmen even if he didn't already feel like he had been dragged through a dragon nest.
Maroon and gold robes stepped in front of him. Two of them. Then four. Then seven.
"Back off, Runcorn," said James Potter, he and Chase Quentin standing with the other Gryffindor Quidditch players, their wands out and pointed at the Purebloods.
"Ooh, you're outnumbering us," said Alan. "So fucking brave."
"Yeah, because four-on-two is so even," said Chase. "Back off."
"You want a fight, Potter?" Runcorn asked. "Cuz I've been waiting years to get a piece of you."
And the four were no longer alone. Arwen Swindell stood with them, the Snitch still defiantly clutched in her hand. So did Kimberly Green, and Scorpius's classmates Holden Harkiss and Arnold King. Other Purebloods were moving in their direction, as well, looking for a fight.
But Scorpius was no longer alone. Meghan was with him. The Gryffindors were with him. Now Dave Piper and Pamela Long. Now Galatea Davis and Gabriel Goyle, standing to Scorpius's left. And other Houses, as well: Scorpius saw Kayla Macmillan and Al Potter. Rose and Fabian Weasley. Prefects from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor, along with the Blood Traitor Slytherin prefects.
This is it, he thought. This is where the Blood Traitors and the Purebloods meet. Who would have thought it'd be here? Who would have thought it'd be me?
"Enough."
Scorpius felt his hair stand on end as a powerful surge of energy emerged between the two groups. The air shimmered as though they were looking through a heat mirage. Through the middle stepped Professor Tiberius Ogden, followed close behind by Professor Tonks and Professor Allentide.
"Hogwarts preaches unity," he said, his voice crackling with authority. "For the last twenty years we have strove to find common ground between all classes and bloodlines. It was the belief of Albus Dumbledore, it was the belief of Minerva McGonnagal, and it is my belief. I refuse to allow my school to devolve into gang warfare. This fight between the supporters of blood purity and blood equality has raged for too long.
"It ends tonight."
"Wendell Redmond and Tarren Orlo," said Tonks, her voice shaking with anger. "As of now you receive six months of detention. You will spend the night separated from your Slytherin housemates for their own safety, and tomorrow you will meet with Professor Ogden and myself to discuss the case for your immediate expulsion from Hogwarts. You will, of course, be given ample opportunity to state your defense."
"You wouldn't have the guts, Tonks," Runcorn sneered. "As soon as they're gone, you and Ogden are out of here."
"Alan Runcorn will also be isolated for the night," Tonks said, "and will also meet with us in regards to his magical attack on Scorpius Malfoy from the stands."
"I'll give you my case right now," said Runcorn. "I was defending my mate, Tarren. In case you didn't notice, Malfoy cannonballed him, knocked him off his broom. Completely uncalled for."
"Scorpius Malfoy will also meet with us," Tonks added.
"Yeah, and we all know how that's going to go," Runcorn muttered under his breath.
"There will be a zero-tolerance policy administered immediately," said Ogden. "Any student found to commit any act of violence against another outside of controlled classroom conditions will meet with myself and their Head of House. Detentions, suspensions, or expulsions will all be in play, with Ministry involvement in extreme cases."
"All Heads will spend the night in their House's common rooms," said Allentide, "and all prefects will patrol their House's dormitories. All other professors will patrol the halls tonight and until this matter is resolved. Should any student feel threatened by their current roommates, speak to your Heads about temporary living accommodations."
"Heads and prefects, escort your students to their Houses," said Ogden. "Meals will be sent to the common rooms, and I expect to see no student in the halls tonight without proper clearance."
"Alrigh', off ta bed, alla ya!" Hagrid roared over the students, who had all started talking to each other at once. The half-giant's voice cut through their discussion, and they started to break away in twos and threes.
"Cyril," said Tonks, grabbing the caretaker's arm, "ask the house elves to prepare three dungeon rooms for the night."
"The dungeon?" Runcorn howled. "You're fucking kidding me!"
"Make it as comfortable as possible," Tonks added. "Mattress, heat, whatever. I want them isolated, not tortured. Hagrid, Aurora, Bjorn, you can escort these three?" she asked, pointing to Orlo, Redmond, and Runcorn.
"Sure thing, 'Dromeda," said Hagrid, eyeing the three Purebloods. "Come on, you lot," he said, motioning with his umbrella. Runcorn looked back at the groundskeeper mutinously, then turned to Scorpius.
"I might get expelled," he said quietly enough for just a few to hear, "but what'll your dear old Mummy and Daddy think when my Dad tells them you're hooked up with a Mudblood?" At this, he turned to Meghan with a disgusting leer.
"I said, come on!" Hagrid repeated, grabbing Alan's arm. With one last blood-curdling laugh towards Meghan and Scorpius, Runcorn turned and made his way back to the castle with the two Beaters. Hagrid, Sinistra, and Forseti followed them close behind, wands prepared for anything.
"Andrew, Uriela, escort Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing," Allentide ordered Professor Reyburn and Longbottom.
"I'd ask that you both keep guard on the wing, as well," said Ogden, "even if it is in shifts. I fear some students may seek retribution on this young man, even with all our patrols."
"Sure thing, Professor," said the Muggle Studies professor. "Do you need some help, Scorpius?"
"No, I'm fine," said Scorpius, taking his first step and feeling his ankle buckle under him. To his relief, Meghan and Gabe caught him. Guess they must have gotten a bat or two down there, even, he thought as he threw his arms around their shoulders, even if Cullen was a good six inches shorter.
"I have you," said Meghan, putting her hand on his chest as Scorpius took another few steps towards the castle.
"Oy, Malfoy! Hold up!"
Scorpius stopped and tried to turn around, but couldn't with Cullen and Goyle on both sides. It didn't matter, though, because James Potter and Chase Quentin ran to catch up and get in front of him.
"Look," said James awkwardly. "I know I feel like an absolute... um... fraud saying this to a Slytherin, but... thanks."
"I was just trying to win the game," Scorpius sighed. "It wasn't personal."
"Well, don't take this the wrong way," said James, "but that's a load of crap. MacDougal was right; you wouldn't have lost the game if those ogres took me out. Gryffindor would have been short one Beater and I'd be in the hospital wing instead of you. I appreciate it."
And in a move that surprised them all, James held his hand out. Scorpius stared at it for what felt like minutes, realizing that this moment meant something irreversible.
He took James Potter's hand, and shook it.
"I can't say I'd do it again," he admitted. "But you're welcome."
"Yeah, I probably wouldn't have done it, either," James shrugged. "But what are you going to do?"
"Come on," said Uriela, motioning for Scorpius to follow her. "Let's get Hahnemann to take a look at you."
James and Chase stood back, allowing him to limp past with help from Meghan and Gabriel.
"Can we stay up there tonight with him?" Meghan asked the professors. "I mean," she added with a hard blush and a turn to Scorpius. "I mean, if you want us to."
Scorpius looked at Gabriel and Meghan. "Yeah, sure," he said, flinching as they hit a dip in the grass. "And I hate to tell you," he added to Meghan, "but you're involved in all of this now."
"I know," said Meghan, looking over at Rose and Kayla, both watching them with a look that Scorpius couldn't quite figure out. Was it fear? Happiness? Pity? Or was it the look that girls always seemed to get while listening to a sappy romantic story on the wireless?
"I think some people had us figured out for a while," she said. "Whatever us is. But that's fine. I can handle whatever's coming."
"Good," said Scorpius. "Cuz I'm ready, too."
"So, I'm going to go out on a limb here," said Gabriel as the two Slytherins, one Ravenclaw, and two professors made their way out of the Quittich grounds. "You're the infamous Meghan?"
"I am," said Meghan with another blush. "I'm infamous, now?"
"Well, now, yeah, probably," said Gabe with a reluctant grin, looking back at the crowd of Hogwarts students leaving the pitch, more than a few tossing curious looks at the trio. "I wanted to compliment you for a while now. Never had a better collection of sweets than the batch you bought Scorp for his birthday."
Meghan thought for a moment, then started to laugh. "Thanks," she said. "Did you like them?" she asked Scorpius.
"I didn't have any," said Scorpius.
"You didn't?"
"Gabe's a chocolates niffler," he said. "Give him a sniff, and they're gone. Sorry."
"I resemble that remark," Gabe chuckled. "I'd smack you if you weren't already mortally wounded."
"Don't worry about it," said Meghan to Scorpius. "I'll get you a proper present Hogsmeade weekend. Sound good?"
Scorpius looked up at the Ravenclaw. Thought about what Runcorn said: What will his parents think?
Oh, fuck it.
"Sounds like fun."
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