Lost Memories

xxxvii. jinxed

The very best thing you could say about the match was that it was short; the Gryffindor spectators had to endure only twenty-two minutes of agony. It was hard to say what the worst thing was: Ron's fourteenth failed save, Sloper missing the Bludger but hitting Angelina in the mouth with his bat, or Kirke shrieking and falling backwards off his broom as Zacharias Smith zoomed at him carrying the Quaffle. The miracle was that Gryffindor only lost by ten points: Ginny managed to snatch the Snitch from right under Hufflepuff Seeker Summerby's nose leaving the final score two hundred and forty versus two hundred and thirty.

"Good catch," Harry told Ginny back in the common room, where the atmosphere closely resembled a particularly dismal funeral.

"I was lucky," she shrugged. "It wasn't a very fast Snitch and Summerby's got a cold, he sneezed and closed his eyes at exactly the wrong moment. Anyway, once you're back on the team —"

"Ginny, I've got a lifelong ban."

"You're banned as long as Umbridge is in the school," Ginny corrected him. "There's a difference. Anyway, once you're back, I think I'll try out for Chaser. Angelina and Alicia are both leaving next year and I prefer goal-scoring to Seeking anyway."

Monday morning, Harry got a post from an anonymous source. Opening it, we realized it was The Quibbler! Professor Umbridge came over at the sight of all his fanmail.

"What is going on here?" said a falsely sweet, girlish voice.

Harry looked up with his hands full of envelopes. Professor Umbridge was standing behind Fred and Luna, her bulging toad's eyes scanning the mess of owls and letters on the table in front of Harry. Behind her, there were many of the students watching them avidly.

"Why have you got all these letters, Mr Potter?" she asked slowly.

"Is that a crime now?" I said loudly. "Getting mail?"

"Be careful, Miss Harring, I still haven't forgotten about the detention you still owe me," said Umbridge. "Well, Mr Potter?"

Harry hesitated in his answer; it was surely only a matter of time before a copy of The Quibbler came to Umbridge's attention.

"People have written to me because I gave an interview," said Harry. "About what happened to me last June."

"When did you give an interview?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Last Hogsmeade weekend," said Harry.

She looked up at him, incandescent with rage, the magazine shaking in her stubby fingers.

"There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr Potter," she whispered. "How you dare— how you could..." She took a deep breath. "I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions."

By mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on House notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too, banning the possession of the magazine The Quibbler.

Hermione was absolutely excited when I told her, Harry, Ron how people kept bombarding me with questions about him and asking for answers on Voldemort's return.

"Harry, they believe you! They really do, you've got them convinced," Hermione beamed.

The teachers were, of course, forbidden from mentioning the interview by Educational Decree Number Twenty-six, but they found ways to express their feelings about it all the same. Professor Sprout awarded Gryffindor twenty points when Harry passed her a watering can and a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms, said "Shh!" and hurried away. Harry even told us how Cho apologized after Transfiguration the next day.