As the Sister of Harry Potter

That night, the Gryffindor common room was ablaze with a tribute party for the Twins. Lee and I had nicked Butterbeer and food, and Hyden’s music blasted out of a radio he had charmed. Ophilia had tears streaming down her face most the night, though if they were of joy or sorrow, I didn’t know.

There was a huge rumor swap going through the castle the next day, and I was sure that one day, when someone wrote a recent Hogwarts history book, Fred and George would be in it. They definitely weren’t going to be forgotten about in a hurry at any rate. Fred and George had left no one instructions on how to get rid of the swamp, and though Umbridge and Filch tried in vain, they eventually had to rope the area off. Filch also had to fit Umbridge a new door and move Harry’s broom into the dungeons.

One brave student (I have no idea who) made shirts that read, “FOR THE MARAUDERS!” with all our names on the back and soon, half the student population was wearing them over their uniforms. And it seemed the entire school had taken to dropping Dungbombs and Stinkpellets whenever they could, making it high fashion to wear a Bubble-Head Charm in the corridors.

Fred and George had also managed to sell a good amount of Skiving Snackboxes before they left, a fact demonstrated during Wednesday’s DADA class. As Umbridge walked in the door, nearly half the class swallowed the orange end of the pill. Stacey Fires and Colin Parker promptly fainted. Cedric, Jared and Ophilia grew red in the face until they had horrible fevers, while Brittany and Sarlanda vomited. Lee, Sophia, Katie Bell and I all spurted blood out of both nostrils.

“What the hell is this? Fourth class in a row! Detention, all of you!” yelled Umbridge.

I heard Ophilia whisper, “Inflatus,” out of the corner of her mouth. As Umbridge sat down, a loud farting noise filled the room. Against our better judgment, the entire class laughed, making the sick students’ ailments even worse.

“What is wrong with all of you?!” shrieked Umbridge.

“Gwee hag “Ugridge-igus,” Grogeffer!” responded Lee through his incredibly thick nosebleed. Translated: We have “Umbridge-itus,” Professor!

We started doing chaos-encouraging slogans over the intercom. Thursday’s was: “Come to the dark side; We have cookies!” We also left the enchanted radio playing Hyden’s songs though the intercom at random intervals.

Thursday during my break, I found Peeves causing his elevated chaos on the sixth floor.

“Hey, Peeves!”

“Ooh, it’s ickle Potty!” he cackled manically.

“Yes, and I want to talk to you,” I said, glancing around the corridor to make sure no one was there besides us.

“What do you want, Potty?” he asked, hovering over me with a waste basket, ready to turn it on my head.

“I want to give you something. Something to use against Umbridge.” Peeves now curiously floated down to my level. I produced from my bag a paintball gun and a sack of paintballs.

“This is a paintball gun. It shoots balls of paint at stuff,” I explained, and showed him how to load it. “The bag regenerates itself, so you won’t run out until the charm wears off. Oh, and you never got this from me,” I added, handing it to him. To my surprise, Peeves’ voice slipped into the oily manner he reserved only for the Bloody Baron and Dumbledore.

“Why thank you, your Potter-ship, ma’am,” he said sleekly, loading the gun.

“You’re welcome. Now, go shoot something!”

The next time I saw Umbridge, she was covered head-to-foot in black paint.

You could now tell where Peeves had been, because just about every surface, moving or stationary, was splattered in paint. Because Sarlanda had enchanted the bag to where the paint would change colours every time it refilled, you could also tell where it refilled, because the colours would change abruptly. Ophilia that night had a huge splash of lime green paint on the top of her head.

“You know,” she said brightly, “I’m glad you have Peeves that paintball gun. I like this new look.”

April slowly turned into May. The most mysterious things kept happening, most of them due to the Marauders. A small army of Nifflers governed by Lee invaded the castle, two of them found in Umbridge’s office. Everyone seemed to be missing their left shoes, and no one could figure out where they went. It was now common courtesy if you saw Umbridge to give the Nazi salute and a “Heil Umbridge!” a tradition that caught on very quickly. Even Peeves did it.

One Wednesday in mid-May, just as class was getting started, a sixth year girl burst into DADA and screamed, “Professor Umbridge, the Giant Squid is in the Prefect’s Bathroom!” After she had calmed down for the most part, she lead Umbridge up to the bathroom while the class followed.

“Pine Fresh!” barked Umbridge, but the door didn’t open.

“Oh, allow me Professor,” said Sarlanda, walking up to the door. “Makes getting clean almost as much fun as getting dirty,” she said officially, and it opened.

Ophilia snorted next to me. “They still haven’t changed the password?” she asked. I just smirked.

Screams swept over the class. “Merlin! How did that get in there?!” yelled Brittany, both disgusted and amused.

“A little Shrinking and Growing Solution,” muttered Sarlanda into my ear as she came back. I laughed.

“Get back to class, all of you!” yelled Umbridge.

“Wait Professor, there’s a note,” said the sixth year girl, pulling a note off one of the Squid’s tentacles. “Good Luck. XOXO, The Marauders,” she read.

-

“Miss Skulls would like to say good luck to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor!”

“Miss Kumquat would like to remind everyone to save a broomstick and ride a wizard!”

I lead my team down to the Quidditch Pitch, grinning nervously. We only had to beat Ravenclaw by a margin of at least fifty points to win the cup. No problem, right? It’s just five goals, right?

“I wonder if they’ve gotten the Squid back in the lake yet?” asked Ginny, gazing out over the lake wistfully.

“No, but I don’t zink ‘e would like to go back. I ‘eard a rumor zat zat’s where everyone’s left sneakers ended up,” said Launa. Ginny snorted.

In the locker rooms, I gave my final speech. “Alright everyone, this is it. Our last match. We need to beat Ravenclaw by at least fifty points. And… good luck,” I ended lamely. Never had I been one for speeches.

“And here are the Gryffindors! Wonder what tricks Captain Potter will have up her sleeve, she looks quite determined!”

‘Damn right, Lee,’ I commented to myself as I stepped up to Davis. He smirked at me, and I just smirked right back.

“Captains shake hands!”

We did, and I mounted my broom.

“Annnnnd they’re off! Davis ha – no, Potter has stolen the Quaffle! Davis tries to get it back, but Potter is being very elusive… dodges Davis, dodges a Bludger, dodges Keeper – POTTER SCORES! Ten to zero, Gryffindor leading!”

I pumped my find in the air, feeling the adrenaline rushing furiously through my veins. But I didn’t have long to celebrate. Davis had the Quaffle again, and he was hauling arse up the pitch. I turned around and laid flat on my broom, but he had quite a head start. Launa kept trying to block him, but he just swerved around her time and time again.
‘Come on baby!’ I urged my broom, but it was too late. A groan came from the scarlet end as the Quaffle sailed through Ron’s arms. He retrieved it and threw it to Katie.

It was a very tough game. Launa had managed to score, so it was twenty to ten, but for now we were at a deadlock. The Chasers stole, passed, and dodged Bludgers, but no one scored. Finally, Bradley from Ravenclaw broke away, Quaffle under his arm, speeding down the Pitch towards Ron. I closed my eyes, scared to watch Ron, scared to see the Quaffle sail right past him once again…

“WEASLEY HAS SAVED THE QUAFFLE! Well done Ron!”

My eyes flew open, incredulous. But there Ron was, hovering with the Quaffle and a huge grin, Bradley baffled.

“Way to go Ron!” yelled Katie before he passes her the Quaffle. Pride swelled up in my chest as I did loops in the air.

From there on, everyone on Gryffindor spirits soared as high as they were flying. Katie and Launa each scored, and Ron pulled off save after save. Andrew Kirke had taken to following Cho, hitting Bludgers at her every opportunity he got. We were forty to ten when I ended up with the Quaffle. One more goal, that was all we needed for Ginny to catch the Snitch. And we needed it now.

Without warning, I laid flat on my broom and shot down the Pitch. My ears popped twice, and I slowed down a little was I reached the Ravenclaw goals, where their Keeper was waiting for me. Davis and Bradley were starting to close in on me. I had to do this fast. I threw the Quaffle a little forward and up as far as I could. I then grabbed my broom and pulled off the Finbolt Flick, my favorite Chaser move, as the bright red ball began to fall. The look on Keeper Riley’s face before it hit him and took him through the goal hoop was priceless.

“Yes! Goal for Gryffindor by Potter’s world-class Finbolt Flick! That, ladies and gentlemen, was an excellent World Cup-worthy play right there!” Lee yelled over the crowd’s screams. “And – WHOW! Look at Ginny go!” Ginny went into a spectacular dive towards Davis’ head and nearly hit him. But it didn’t matter. She had caught the Snitch.

“YES, YES, YES! GRYFFINDOR HAS WON THE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

The teams landed on the Pitch and I burst into tears of shock and joy was we hugged each other. The Ravenclaws were pale with shock; Cho had thrown her broom to the ground. We were soon mobbed by the scarlet mass, and they lifted us up. Madame Hooch found us and presented myself and Ginny with the Cup. We took it, thanking him with more tears. Cedric took me onto his own shoulders, and Umbridge had the most sour look on her face.

“Come on Gryffindor!” I screamed though my blurred vision. “Let’s go party!”