Daughter of a Criminal

Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw

It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Each was so angry with the other that Harry and Ann couldn't see how they'd ever make it up. Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshanks's attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds. Hermione, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie. Ann and Harry both agreed to try and appease them Ann with Hermoine and Harry with Ron. Personally, Ann was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, but Ann kept that to herself not wanting to lose Hermoine as a friend. Ann just spent most days in the library trying to get Hermoine to talk to Ron, until she snapped
'Seriously Ann I've got a lot of work to do, so go side with those two like always!' Hermoine yelled. Ron had taken the loss of his rat very hard indeed.
'Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was,' said Fred bracingly. 'And he's been off colour for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly. One swallow â€" he probably didn't feel a thing.'
'Fred!' said Ann indignantly, as Ann was one of the very few people who actually knew how much Scabbers meant to her god sibling.
'All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself,' said George.
'He bit Goyle for us once!' Ron said miserably. 'Remember, Harry, Ann?'
'Yeah, that's true,' said Harry.
'His finest hour, in my opinion,' said Ann,
'Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat. What's the point of moaning?' said Fred. In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ron up, Harry and Ann persuaded him to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a go on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Ron's mind off Scabbers for a moment ('Brilliant! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?') so they all set off for the Quidditch pitch. Madam Hooch, who was still overseeing Gryffindor practices to keep an eye on Harry, was just as impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else had been. She took it in her hands before take-off and gave them the benefit of her professional opinion.
'Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail-end â€" you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated the handle, too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows â€" a pity they've stopped making them, I learned to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was too …' She continued in this vein for some time, until Wood said,
'Er â€" Madam Hooch? Is it OK if Ann has the Firebolt back? Only we need to practise …'
'Oh â€" right â€" here you are, then, Black,'said Madam Hooch. 'I'll sit over here with Weasley …' She and Ron left the pitch to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathered around Wood for his final instructions for tomorrow's match.
'Harry, I've just found out who Ravenclaw are playing as Seeker. It's Ivan Chang. He's a fourth- year, and he's pretty good … I really hoped he wouldn't be fit, he's had some problems with injuries …' Wood scowled his displeasure that Ivan Chang had made a full recovery, then said, 'On the other hand, he rides a Comet Two Sixty, which is going to look like a joke next to your Nimbus 2000.' He gave Harry's broom a look of fervent admiration, then said, 'OK, everyone, let's go â€"' And at long last, Ann mounted her Firebolt, and kicked off from the ground. It was better than she'd ever dreamed. The Firebolt turned with the lightest touch; it seemed to obey her thoughts rather than her grip. It sped across the pitch at such speed that the stadium turned into a green and grey blur; Ann kept flying back and forth being very good at dodging bludgers with her new broomâ€" It was the best practice ever; the team, inspired by the presence of the Firebolt in their midst, performed their best moves faultlessly, and by the time they hit the ground again, Wood didn't have a single criticism to make, which, as George Weasley pointed out, was a first.
'I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!' said Wood. 'Not unless â€" Harry, Ann you've sorted your Dementor problem, haven't you?'
'Yeah,' said Harry,
'Definitely not fainting this time,' said Ann confidently
'The Dementors won't turn up again, Oliver, Dumbledore'd do his nut,' said Fred confidently. 'Well, let's hope not,' said Wood. 'Anyway â€" good work, everyone. Let's get back to the Tower â€" turn in early …'
'I'm staying out for a bit, Ron wants a go on the Firebolt,' Ann told Wood, and while the rest of the team headed off to the changing rooms, Ann strode over to Ron, who vaulted the barrier to the stands and came to meet her. Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in her seat. 'Here you go,' said Ann, handing Ron the Firebolt. Ron, an expression of ecstasy on his face, mounted the broom and zoomed off into the gathering darkness while Ann walked around the edge of the pitch, watching him. Night had fallen before Madam Hooch awoke with a start, told Ann and Ron off for not waking her, and insisted that they go back to the castle. Ann shouldered the Firebolt and she and Ron walked out of the shadowy stadium, discussing the Firebolt's superbly smooth action, its phenomenal acceleration and its pinpoint turning. They were halfway towards the castle when Ann, glancing to her left, saw something that made her heart turn over â€" a pair of eyes, gleaming out of the darkness. Ann stopped dead,
'What's the matter?'said Ron. Ann pointed. Ron pulled out his wand and muttered, 'Lumos!' A beam of light fell across the grass, hit the bottom of a tree and illuminated its branches; there, crouching amongst the budding leaves, was Crookshanks. 'Get out of it!' Ron roared, and he stooped down and seized a stone lying on the grass, but before he could do anything else, Crookshanks had vanished with one swish of his long ginger tail. 'See?' Ron said furiously, chucking the stone down again. 'She's still letting him wander about wherever he wants â€" probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now …' Ann didn't say anything. They set off for the castle once more.
Ann went down to breakfast the next morning with Harry. As Harry and Ann entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering. Ann saw, with enormous satisfaction, that the Slytherin team were all looking thunderstruck.
'Did you see his face?' said Ron gleefully, looking back at Malfoy. 'He can't believe it! This is brilliant!' Wood, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.
'Put it here, Ann,' he said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upwards. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory came over to congratulate Ann on having acquired such a superb replacement for her Nimbus causing her to blush to Harry's disappointment, for some reason. And Percy's Ravenclaw girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.
'Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!' said Percy heartily, as she examined the Firebolt closely. 'Penelope and I have got a bet on,' he told the team. 'Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!' Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Ann and went back to her table. 'Ann â€" make sure you win,' said Percy, in an urgent whisper. 'I haven't got ten Galleons. Yes, I'm coming, Penny!' And he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.
'Sure you can manage that broom, Black?'said a cold, drawling voice. Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind her.
'Yeah, reckon so,' said Ann casually.
'Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?' said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. 'Shame it doesn't come with a parachute â€" in case you get too near a Dementor.' Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. Ann went a deep red.
'Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy,' said Harry standing up for Ann. 'Then it could catch the Snitch for you.' The Gryffindor team laughed loudly. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed, and he stalked away. They watched him rejoin the rest of the Slytherin team, who put their heads together, no doubt asking Malfoy whether Ann's broom really was a Firebolt. At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the changing rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day, with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and Ann, though nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. They could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond. Ann took off her black school robes, removed her wand from his pocket, and stuck it inside the T-shirt she was going to wear under her Quidditch robes. Ann only hoped she wouldn't need it. 'You know what we've got to do,' said Wood, as they prepared to leave the changing rooms. 'If we lose this match, we're out of the running. Just â€" just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be OK!' They walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, were already standing in the middle of the pitch. Their Seeker, Ivan Chang, smirked as though he knew he would win. He was taller than Harry by about a head. Harry couldn't help noticing, nervous as he was, that Ann was extremely pretty, with her curly blonde hair whistling in the wind. Ann smiled at Harry as the teams faced each other behind their captains, and he felt a slight jolt in the region of his stomach that he didn't think had anything to do with nerves.
'Wood, Davies, shake hands,' Madam Hooch said briskly, and Wood shook hands with the Ravenclaw captain. 'Mount your brooms … on my whistle … three â€" two â€" one â€"' Ann kicked off into the air and the Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom; she soared between the goal posts carrying the quaffle every now and again all the while listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan.
'They're off, and the big excitement of this match is the Firebolt which Anastasia Black is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship â€"'
'Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?' interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.
'Right you are, Professor â€" just giving a bit of background information. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and â€"'
'Jordan!'
'OK, OK, Gryffindor in possession, Anastasia Black of Gryffindor heading for goal …' Harry streaked past Ann in the opposite direction, gazing around for a glint of gold and noticing that Ivan Chang was tailing him closely. He was undoubtedly a very good flyer â€" he kept cutting acrossHarry, forcing him to change direction.
'Show him your acceleration, Harry!' Fred yelled, as he whooshed past in pursuit of a Bludger that was aiming for Angelina Johnson. Ann urged her Firebolt forward and threw the Quaffle through the goal post. Ann had succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match, and the Gryffindor end of the pitch went wild
'Gryffindor lead by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Black's really putting it through its paces now. See it turn- The Firebolt's precision balance is really noticeable in these long â€"'
'JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!' Ravenclaw were pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead â€" But it had been tough for them as Ann kept flying circles around the Ravenclaw Chasers, which Harry greatly admired. But if Chang got the Snitch before him, Ravenclaw would win. Harry dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, scanning the pitch frantically. A glint of gold, a flutter of tiny wings â€" the Snitch was circling the Gryffindor goalpost … Harry accelerated, eyes fixed on the speck of gold ahead â€" but next second, Chang had appeared out of thin air, blocking him â€"
'KNOCK HIM OFF HIS BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!' Wood roared. Harry turned and caught sight of Ivan Chang; he was grinning. The Snitch had vanished again. Ann kept scoring and Ravenclaw was at a loss for words. And then Harry caught the Snitch, and they won the match. Next moment, the whole team was hugging him so hard he was nearly pulled off his broom. Down below he could hear the roars of the Gryffindors in the crowd. 'That's my boy!' Wood kept yelling. Angelina and Katie had both hugged Harry, Ann pulled Harry into a hug so tight he couldn't breathe, but Harry wanted the hug to last forever, why he didn't know. And Fred had him in a grip so tight Harry felt as though his head would come off. In complete disarray, the teammanaged to make its way back to the ground. Harry got off his broom and looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters sprinting onto the pitch, Ron in the lead. Before he knew it, he had been engulfed by the cheering crowd.
'Yes!' Ron yelled, yanking Harry and Ann's arms both into the air. 'Yes! Yes!'
'Well done, Ann!' said Percy, looking delighted. 'Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me â€"'
'Good on you, Harry!' roared Seamus Finnigan.
'Ruddy brilliant!' boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.
'That was quite some Patronus,' said a voice in Harry's ear. Harry and Ann both turned around to see Professor Lupin, who looked both shaken and pleased.
'The Dementors didn't affect me at all!' Harry said excitedly. 'I didn't feel a thing!'
'That would be because they â€" er â€" weren't Dementors,' said Professor Lupin. 'Come and see â€"' He led Harry and Ann out of the crowd until they were able to see the edge of the pitch. 'You gave Mr Malfoy quite a fright,'said Lupin. Harry stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall. Ann snorted.
'An unworthy trick!' she was shouting. 'A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!' If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Ron, who had fought his way through to Ann and Harry's side, doubled up with laughter as they watched Malfoy fighting to extricate himself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.
'Come on, Harry, Ann!' said George, fighting his way over. 'Party! Gryffindor common room, now!'
'Come on let's go,' said Ann grabbing his hand as the team ran up to the castle.
'Right,' said Harry, and feeling happier than he had done in ages.
It felt as though they had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Fred and George Weasley disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of Butterbeer, pumpkin fizz and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.
'How did you do that?' squealed Angelina Johnson, as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd. 'With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs,' Fred muttered to Harry and Ann so that only they could hear. Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Hermione, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. Ann broke away from the table where Fred and George had started juggling Butterbeer bottles, and went over to her.
'Did you even come to the match?' Ann asked her.
'Of course I did,' said Hermione, in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. 'And I'm very glad we won, and I think you and Harry did really well, but I need to read this by Monday.'
'Come on, Hermione, come and have some food,' Ann said, looking over at Ron and wondering whether he was in a good enough mood to bury the hatchet.
'I can't, Ann, I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!' said Hermione, now sounding slightly hysterical. 'Anyway …' She glanced over at Ron, too, 'he doesn't want me to join in.'
'But what about me and Harry,' said Ann
'Rons still very mad,' said Hermoine. There was no arguing with this, as Ron chose that moment to say loudly,
'If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of these Fudge Flies, he used to really like them â€"' Hermione burst into tears. Before Ann could say or do anything, she had tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran towards the staircase to the girls' dormitories and out of sight.
'Ron you're such-ugh, you're being rude and terrible!' yelled Ann before going after her friend. Ron stood dumb struck, he and Ann rarely fought, and even when they did it was small and unimportant. It was always inside jokes and best friend quips, things that siblings would say to each other, never giant arguments.
'Can't you give her a break?' Harry asked Ron quietly.
'No,' said Ron flatly. 'If she just acted like she was sorry â€" but she'll never admit she's wrong, Hermione. She's still acting like Scabbers has gone on holiday or something.' Ann came back down and spent the entire evening shooting daggers at Ron. But to Harry's delight Ann did congratulate him with at least three more hugs that night or side hugs. But still. The Gryffindor party only ended when Professor McGonagall turned up in her tartan dressing gown and hair-net at one in the morning, to insist that they all went to bed. Ann went up to her dormitory, to find Hermoine fast asleep covered in books. Ann smiled and piled the books next to Hermione's bed before climbing into bed. Ann lay back and felt herself almost instantly drifting off to sleep. And then Ann and Hermoine heard a commotion and went down to investigate. Everyone was coming back down though.
'Excellent, are we carrying on?' said Fred Weasley brightly.
'Everyone back upstairs!' said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pyjamas as he spoke.
'Perce â€" Sirius Black!'said Ron faintly. 'In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!' The common room went very still.
'Nonsense!'said Percy, looking startled. 'You had too much to eat, Ron â€" had a nightmare â€"' 'I'm telling you â€"'
'Now, really, enough's enough!' Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around. 'I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!'
'I certainly didn't authorise this, Professor!'said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. 'I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare â€"'
'IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!' Ron yelled. 'PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!' Professor McGonagall stared at him.
'Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have got through the portrait hole?' 'Ask him!'said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. 'Ask him if he saw â€"' Glaring suspiciously at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with baited breath.
'Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?'
'Certainly good lady!' cried Sir Cadogan. There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.
'You â€" you did?'said Professor McGonagall. 'But â€" but the password!'
'He had 'em!' said Sir Cadogan proudly. 'Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!' Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.
'Which person,' she said, her voice shaking, 'which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?' There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to fluffy-slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air.