It seemed things were getting worse and worse. With Harry, Fred and George's ban on quidditch Gryffindor was getting crushed. 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. I thought it was a close-run contest between Ron's fourteenth failed save, Sloper missing the Bludger but hitting Angelina in the mouth with his bat, and Kirke shrieking and falling backward 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, so that the final score was two hundred and forty versus two hundred and thirty. In better news Slytherin was now in favor of winning the House Cup!
"Actually, I dunno how she got so good, seeing how we never let her play with us...." George's says as I walk with them back to the castle after another terrible practice.
"Hate to break it to you but she's been breaking into your broom shed in the garden since the age of six and taking each of your brooms out in turn when you weren't looking," I say.
"Oh," said Fred, looking mildly impressed. "Well — that'd explain it." George yawned widely and looked out disconsolately at the cloudy night sky. "You know, Quidditch was about the only thing in this place worth staying for."
"But you have N.E.W.T.s soon.."
"Told you already, we're not fussed about N.E.W.T.s," said George. "The Snackboxes are ready to roll, we found out how to get rid of those boils, just a couple of drops of murtlap essence sorts them, Lee put us onto it. . . ."
"So you're just going to leave?" I ask feeling a sad at the thought. The were quiet it for a moment.
"It's just we have the money to get a shop and everyone seems to love our products...there just isn't much appeal in staying." I nod understanding what they were trying to say.
"Well, at least tell me goodbye before you leave." Fred wraps one arm around my shoulders.
"Come on, did you think we were going to leave without saying goodbye to our little Gibby!" George jokes, I crack a smile to keep from looking to sad at the news of them leaving.
The next days seemed to only get worse. Harry had finally decided to speak out on the truth about Voldemort in the latest edition of the quibbler. Which only led to Umbridges latest decree banning the Quibbler. Professor Umbridge was stalking the school, stopping students at random and demanding that they turn out their books and pockets. I knew she was looking for copies of The Quibbler, but the students were several steps ahead of her. The pages carrying Harry's interview had been bewitched to resemble extracts from text- books if anyone but themselves read it, or else wiped magically blank until they wanted to peruse it again. Soon it seemed that every single person in the school had read it.
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; a beaming Professor Flitwick pressed a box of squeaking sugar mice on him at the end of Charms, said "Shh!" and hurried away; and Professor Trelawney broke into hysterical sobs during Divination and announced to the startled class, and a very disapproving Umbridge, that Harry was not going to suffer an early death after all, but would live to a ripe old age, become Minister of Magic, and have twelve children.
Though our fun was short lived. I was walking with Lucille and Astoria when we heard screams. We looked at each other confused before falling others hearing the screams as well. The screams were coming from the entrance hall; they grew louder as we ran toward the stone steps leading up from the dungeons. When we reached the top we found the entrance hall packed. Students had come flooding out of the Great Hall, where dinner was still in progress, to see what was going on. Others had crammed themselves onto the marble staircase. I pushed forward through a knot of tall Slytherins and saw that the onlookers had formed a great ring, some of them looking shocked, others even frightened. Professor McGonagall was directly opposite me on the other side of the hall; she looked as though what she was watching made her feel faintly sick.
