Into The Multiverse

Chapter 26 - Wait What?

(3rd POV)

In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin. 

Malfoy: Look at the state of his robes. He dresses like our old house-elf.

But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to Kappas, creepy, water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds. 

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. They were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence. 

Ron: Why would anyone bother looking after them?

Ron remarked, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' throats. 

At the start of October, however, the Quidditch season was approaching, and Oliver Wood called a meeting on Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season. There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his seven fellow team members in the chilly locker rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch field. 

Wood: This is our last chance —my last chance — to win the Quidditch Cup. I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it. Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world —injuries — then the tournament getting called off last year. But we also know we've got the best — ruddy — team— in — the — school! We've got three superb Chasers.

Wood pointed at Alicia Spinner, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell. 

Wood: We've got two unbeatable Beaters.

Fred/George: Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us. 

Said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush. 

Wood: And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match! 

Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. 

Wood: And me and Damien.  

He added as an afterthought. 

George: We think you two are good players.  

Fred: Spanking good. 

Wood: The point is, the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing...

Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic. 

Fred: Oliver, this year's our year. 

Angelica: We'll do it, Oliver!

Harry: Definitely. 

Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind, or rain could tarnish the team's wonderful vision of finally winning the huge, silver Quidditch Cup. Harry and Damien returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, to find the room buzzing excitedly.