Sirius's son

Tampered bludgers

"We got the book!" Rigel announced, walking through the Fat Lady portrait.

"This is pretty complicated." Hermione frowned as she flickered through the textbook.

"Do you realize that we are going to have to steal half of these items, Hermione?" Ron whispered, looking a bit nervous.

"Says the one who flew a bloody magical car to Hogwarts," Eliza muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, that was an emergency!"

"Nobody's chickening out, and if we want to do this, we should get started soon, because it says here that the potion takes around a month to finish."

"Do you think you can make it Hermione?" Rigel asked.

"Well, I'm not one hundred percent sure. I thought maybe if I got the recipe and stole the ingredients then maybe somebody else could make it..." With this Hermione glanced at Eliza whose eyes widened in surprise.

"You want me to make it?" Eliza said in disbelief, "I thought you were the best at everything!"

Hermione blushed slightly before answering.

"Well, actually, you beat me at Potions." A pregnant pause followed this declaration which was thankfully brought to a halt by Ron who suggest it would be better to kick Malfoy off his broom in quidditch.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry, Eliza, and Rigel good luck as they entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers -" ("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August") "- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team."

Wood turned to Harry.

"It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So no pressure, Harry," said Eliza, winking at him.

As we walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted us; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three ... two ... one. . .

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of us, squinting around for the Snitch.

Rigel quickly got the quaffle and passed it to Eliza who was just about to score when a bludger whizzed past her making her drop the quaffle. Rigel turned around to see the same bludger was chasing after Harry.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?" Rigel screamed as a bludger flew right across his face,

Now, something was definitely wrong. When Eliza caught the Quaffle again Pucey, the bludger was back and passed it to Rigel. He was almost at the goalposts, just a little bit farther - he threw the Quaffle and scored, eliciting cheers from the Gryffindors and groans from the Slytherins. He zipped away, ready to shadow a Slytherin Chaser, but was forced into a dive by a bludger who started chasing Eliza.