Status: Complete
Remember Me
A Quidditch Match
Ron sat at the Gryffindor table, his face tinged unpleasantly with green as he stared with unseeing eyes out the window.
“Ron,” growled Cassandra. “It is a Quidditch game. It’s not a life or death situation for Gods sake!”
There was no response. Harry tried a different approach.
“You’ve been playing really well in the practises mate. Just don’t worry about it.”
Ron still sat with unseeing eyes, terrified at the prospect of the first Quidditch game in the season.
“I should be more worried than you!” said Cassandra. “It’s my first Quidditch game ever!”
Hermione, who had just arrived to hear the end of this, sniffed disapprovingly. “You’re
worrying about Quidditch?”
Harry rolled his eyes and took another bite of his toast. Cassandra looked annoyed, turning to face her with angry eyes.
“Hermione, this is my first Quidditch game, Harry's first time at being captain and Ron…” she looked doubtfully at the red-headed boy beside her, “Is a little nervous. So yes, of course we’re worrying about Quidditch.”
“I just thought,” Hermione hissed as Dean and Seamus walked by, clapping Ron and Harry on the back and wishing them good luck, “That after what you and Harry heard about Malfoy-“
“Yes, I know!” Cassandra sighed impatiently. This was far from being the first time Hermione had built it up – she had been mentioning it every time the four of them were alone together, times which grew increasingly less frequent due to Dean and Seamus, who insisted hanging around with them. “And didn’t we agree to tell Dumbledore sometime after the match?”
“Or Professor Grimstone,” said Hermione. “He should be able to do something.”
“D’you know, I think he already knows. I saw him yesterday talking to Malfoy in his office when I went by.”
Hermione spun round and looked towards the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was sitting with the team, discussing tactics. “Hmm,” she said doubtfully. “I’m not sure…”
“Hermione, please, I am going to be flying in front of everyone in half-an-hour and I swear, if you are so worried about Malfoy I will try my hardest to knock him off his broom or break his wand or something, but-“
“You’re worried about it too!”
“I-know-but-its-Quidditch,” said Cassandra in one breath.
Hermione gave Cassandra a frosty look and turned to talk to Dean, muttering something about how Quidditch was simply a waste of time, and if they didn’t care about people getting Imperiused…
Cassandra grinned at Harry and Ron. “You ready? Let’s go.”
They strode out of the Great Hall to applause from the red and gold clad supporters and boos from the Slytherins. The day was bright, though the wind was cool. Overall, the perfect weather for a match. The rest of the team arrived in the changing room, all of them talking excitedly apart from Ron, who sat, glassy-eyed in the corner.
“Okay…”said Harry when everyone was ready, looking nervously at Ron. “Good luck, everyone!”
Cassandra swung her leg over the broom with a sudden rush of excitement as zoomed into the air. Ginny winked at her, and she grinned back. Harry shook the burly Slytherin Captain’s hand and the game began.
Cassandra caught hold of the Quaffle immediately; seeing Harper flying towards her she quickly passed in onto Katie, who caught it a flew for the goalposts before being hit by a Bludger. Ginny caught it and aimed at the goal. A deafening cheer rose from the supporters below as the Quaffle flew through the middle goalpost.
Slytherin had possession of the Quaffle now. Cassandra followed Montague, praying that he would drop it before Ron had to try and save it. He looked pale, hanging uncertainly in front of the posts. Montague threw the ball and Ron lunged for it, catching it by the tips of his fingers and quickly throwing it onto Katie as Slytherins booed. Katie passed it onto Ginny, who dropped it, but a welcome bludger hit Harper before he could catch it, and Cassandra caught it instead.
The game progressed steadily. Cassandra scored another goal before Ron was hit by a bludger, allowing Slytherin to make to score equal. After twenty minutes, Slytherin was in the lead by ten points, and Harry was growing anxious. If he could just catch the Snitch quickly…
Malfoy was tailing him, and Harry longed to be able to pull out his wand and jinx him, make him pay for putting an Unforgivable curse on people. But it was hard. He wasn’t sure what to do. Hermione had said to tell Dumbledore or Grimstone. Harry was undecided. He wanted to know why, whether his suspicions about Malfoy working for Voldemort were correct, and Dumbledore had been dismissive when he had mention that idea to him before.
“IDIOT!” bellowed Cassandra in his ear. He realised he had been stationary in mid-air, unaware of the game. “Get the damn Snitch!”
Harry wheeled around and saw Malfoy, his blonde hair plastered against his face, flying at full speed towards the ground and he hastily urged his firebolt into a dive, mentally cursing himself for not paying attention. He could see the little golden ball now, was catching up with Malfoy, but he was too late, surely, Malfoy was reaching his hand out…
Harry stretched out his hand, reaching forwards, flying as fast as he could, desperate to reach the Snitch…
“YES!”
Grinning happily, he punched the air with the fist that was holding the golden ball tightly. His team-mates hugged him in mid-air, their cheers deafening him. They had won.
“I love Quidditch,” sighed Cassandra happily as she landed next to Ron. “Even though I didn’t manage to knock Malfoy off his broom. Which, considering, would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”
*
Harry, Ron and Cassandra hung back after Defence Against The Dark Arts the other day – Hermione had been forced to retreat to the Hospital Wing with a broken nose. Professor Grimstone looked at the three teenagers facing him, all with serious expressions.
“Yes?” he inquired in his smooth, oily voice.
“Sir, it’s about Draco Malfoy,” Harry began, clearing his throat.
“He’s Imperiusing students.”
Professor Grimstone regarded them with no change of expression on his face. It was as if his features were made out of stone.
“Imperiusing them, you say? Using an Unforgivable Curse?”
“Yes, sir. We saw him using it on Marietta Edgecoombe.”
Cassandra shuffled her feet uncomfortably as Professor Grimstone turned his black gaze upon her. There was a long pause as he seemed to be registering the information, which Cassandra could understand. She had hardly believed it herself at first.
“Thank you for telling me this,” said Professor Grimstone suddenly. “I will talk to Mr Malfoy about it, and I am sure that everything at Hogwarts will soon be what it should be.” He nodded at them, and the took that as a sign they were dismissed.
“Ron,” growled Cassandra. “It is a Quidditch game. It’s not a life or death situation for Gods sake!”
There was no response. Harry tried a different approach.
“You’ve been playing really well in the practises mate. Just don’t worry about it.”
Ron still sat with unseeing eyes, terrified at the prospect of the first Quidditch game in the season.
“I should be more worried than you!” said Cassandra. “It’s my first Quidditch game ever!”
Hermione, who had just arrived to hear the end of this, sniffed disapprovingly. “You’re
worrying about Quidditch?”
Harry rolled his eyes and took another bite of his toast. Cassandra looked annoyed, turning to face her with angry eyes.
“Hermione, this is my first Quidditch game, Harry's first time at being captain and Ron…” she looked doubtfully at the red-headed boy beside her, “Is a little nervous. So yes, of course we’re worrying about Quidditch.”
“I just thought,” Hermione hissed as Dean and Seamus walked by, clapping Ron and Harry on the back and wishing them good luck, “That after what you and Harry heard about Malfoy-“
“Yes, I know!” Cassandra sighed impatiently. This was far from being the first time Hermione had built it up – she had been mentioning it every time the four of them were alone together, times which grew increasingly less frequent due to Dean and Seamus, who insisted hanging around with them. “And didn’t we agree to tell Dumbledore sometime after the match?”
“Or Professor Grimstone,” said Hermione. “He should be able to do something.”
“D’you know, I think he already knows. I saw him yesterday talking to Malfoy in his office when I went by.”
Hermione spun round and looked towards the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was sitting with the team, discussing tactics. “Hmm,” she said doubtfully. “I’m not sure…”
“Hermione, please, I am going to be flying in front of everyone in half-an-hour and I swear, if you are so worried about Malfoy I will try my hardest to knock him off his broom or break his wand or something, but-“
“You’re worried about it too!”
“I-know-but-its-Quidditch,” said Cassandra in one breath.
Hermione gave Cassandra a frosty look and turned to talk to Dean, muttering something about how Quidditch was simply a waste of time, and if they didn’t care about people getting Imperiused…
Cassandra grinned at Harry and Ron. “You ready? Let’s go.”
They strode out of the Great Hall to applause from the red and gold clad supporters and boos from the Slytherins. The day was bright, though the wind was cool. Overall, the perfect weather for a match. The rest of the team arrived in the changing room, all of them talking excitedly apart from Ron, who sat, glassy-eyed in the corner.
“Okay…”said Harry when everyone was ready, looking nervously at Ron. “Good luck, everyone!”
Cassandra swung her leg over the broom with a sudden rush of excitement as zoomed into the air. Ginny winked at her, and she grinned back. Harry shook the burly Slytherin Captain’s hand and the game began.
Cassandra caught hold of the Quaffle immediately; seeing Harper flying towards her she quickly passed in onto Katie, who caught it a flew for the goalposts before being hit by a Bludger. Ginny caught it and aimed at the goal. A deafening cheer rose from the supporters below as the Quaffle flew through the middle goalpost.
Slytherin had possession of the Quaffle now. Cassandra followed Montague, praying that he would drop it before Ron had to try and save it. He looked pale, hanging uncertainly in front of the posts. Montague threw the ball and Ron lunged for it, catching it by the tips of his fingers and quickly throwing it onto Katie as Slytherins booed. Katie passed it onto Ginny, who dropped it, but a welcome bludger hit Harper before he could catch it, and Cassandra caught it instead.
The game progressed steadily. Cassandra scored another goal before Ron was hit by a bludger, allowing Slytherin to make to score equal. After twenty minutes, Slytherin was in the lead by ten points, and Harry was growing anxious. If he could just catch the Snitch quickly…
Malfoy was tailing him, and Harry longed to be able to pull out his wand and jinx him, make him pay for putting an Unforgivable curse on people. But it was hard. He wasn’t sure what to do. Hermione had said to tell Dumbledore or Grimstone. Harry was undecided. He wanted to know why, whether his suspicions about Malfoy working for Voldemort were correct, and Dumbledore had been dismissive when he had mention that idea to him before.
“IDIOT!” bellowed Cassandra in his ear. He realised he had been stationary in mid-air, unaware of the game. “Get the damn Snitch!”
Harry wheeled around and saw Malfoy, his blonde hair plastered against his face, flying at full speed towards the ground and he hastily urged his firebolt into a dive, mentally cursing himself for not paying attention. He could see the little golden ball now, was catching up with Malfoy, but he was too late, surely, Malfoy was reaching his hand out…
Harry stretched out his hand, reaching forwards, flying as fast as he could, desperate to reach the Snitch…
“YES!”
Grinning happily, he punched the air with the fist that was holding the golden ball tightly. His team-mates hugged him in mid-air, their cheers deafening him. They had won.
“I love Quidditch,” sighed Cassandra happily as she landed next to Ron. “Even though I didn’t manage to knock Malfoy off his broom. Which, considering, would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”
*
Harry, Ron and Cassandra hung back after Defence Against The Dark Arts the other day – Hermione had been forced to retreat to the Hospital Wing with a broken nose. Professor Grimstone looked at the three teenagers facing him, all with serious expressions.
“Yes?” he inquired in his smooth, oily voice.
“Sir, it’s about Draco Malfoy,” Harry began, clearing his throat.
“He’s Imperiusing students.”
Professor Grimstone regarded them with no change of expression on his face. It was as if his features were made out of stone.
“Imperiusing them, you say? Using an Unforgivable Curse?”
“Yes, sir. We saw him using it on Marietta Edgecoombe.”
Cassandra shuffled her feet uncomfortably as Professor Grimstone turned his black gaze upon her. There was a long pause as he seemed to be registering the information, which Cassandra could understand. She had hardly believed it herself at first.
“Thank you for telling me this,” said Professor Grimstone suddenly. “I will talk to Mr Malfoy about it, and I am sure that everything at Hogwarts will soon be what it should be.” He nodded at them, and the took that as a sign they were dismissed.