𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ;𝐑.𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

"The one time their aim was on point."

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third-years had never had so much homework. Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.

'Call this a holiday!' Seamus Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. 'The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?'
In response, Rachelle yelled back that it was clearly torture.

But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. She was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library next morning; she had shadows like Lupin's under her eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.

Rachelle had taken all the same subjects as Hermione except Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes, reducing her work pile compared to her friend.

Ron had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak's appeal, much to Rachelle's approval, because with the addition of the hearing before, she had a significantly bigger work pile. When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. He was so absorbed, he even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks, pleasing Hermione immensely.

Harry, meanwhile, had to fit in his homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor–Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin were leading the tournament by two hundred points. This meant that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

Rachelle pointed out that unless he caught it, the Gryffindor Chasers would have to score more than 20 goals in order to win, and even then they might not win the cup. It didn't help Harry's nerves, but Rachelle wasn't the type to sugarcoat her words.

It was also getting annoying that Harry couldn't go anywhere without a Slytherin attempting to trip him, and Rachelle frequently positioned herself to stand next to him while walking around the castle, simply to step on their feet. It worked rather well, and Slytherins would withdraw their foot when they saw her around.

Everything was abandoned the night before the match, and even Hermione had put down her work. This was their first chance to win the Quidditch Cup in years, of course the Gryffindors were nervous.

It was a great deal louder then usual, mainly because Fred and George had taken to being louder and more exuberant than ever to deal with the pressure while Alicia, Katie and Angelina laughed at their jokes.

Wood sat in a corner, with a model of the pitch as he prodded the little figures across it with his wand, muttering to himself.

Harry simply sat in the common room, staring at the fire while his friends surrounded him. They had given him reassurances that it would be fine, but everyone could tell they did nothing to reassure him in the slightest.

The next morning, the Gryffindor team arrived at breakfast to huge applause. It was satisfying to see that even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were cheering for them. It was clear everyone wanted Slytherins reign on the Quidditch Cup to end. It had belonged to the house of silver and green for 7 years, and the Gryffindors were ready to change that.

Oliver Wood spent the rest of breakfast urging his team to eat while eating nothing himself, until after the tenth "Eat. You need your strength." Rachelle picked up a piece of toast and shoved it into his mouth, nearly choked him with the bread. After he devoured the toast he went back to nagging at his team, taking sneak glances at Rachelle every now and then to ensure she didn't attempt to accidentally kill him with another piece of toast.