Destined | The Order of the Phoenix : Book 5

The Unlucky Practice

Kiana

"What's that Weasley's riding," Draco laughs. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?"

Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson guffawed and shrieked with laughter. Ron mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground and Harry and I followed him, watching his ears turn red from behind.

"Ignore them," Harry said, accelerating to catch up with Ron. "We'll see who's laughing after we play them."

"Exactly the attitude I want, Harry," I said approvingly, soaring around them with the Quaffle under my arm and slowing to hover on the spot in front of my airborne team. "Okay everyone, we're going to start with some passes just to warm up, the whole team please —"

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway," shrieked Pansy Parkinson from below. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

Angelina swept her long braided hair out of her face. I said calmly, "Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do . . ."

Harry reversed away from us to the far side of the pitch. Ron fell back toward the opposite goal. Angelina raised the Quaffle with one hand and threw it hard to Fred, who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed to Ron, who dropped it. The Slytherins, led by Malfoy, roared and screamed with laughter. Ron, who had pelted toward the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to playing height, blushing. I saw Fred and George exchange looks, but uncharacteristically neither of them said anything, for which I was grateful.

"Pass it on, Ron," I called, as though nothing had happened.

Ron threw the Quaffle to Katie, who passed back to Harry, who passed to George.

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling," called Malfoy. "Sure you don't need a lie-down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?"

"Ignore him Harry," I frowned.

Fred passed to Angelina; she reverse passed to Harry, who had not been expecting it, but caught it in the very tips of his fingers and passed it quickly to Ron, who lunged for it and missed by inches.

"Come on now, Ron," I said crossly, as Ron dived for the ground again, chasing the Quaffle. "Pay attention."

It would have been hard to say whether Ron's face or the Quaffle was a deeper scarlet when he returned again to playing height. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team were howling with laughter. On his third attempt, Ron caught the Quaffle; perhaps out of relief he passed it on so enthusiastically that it soared straight through Katie's outstretched hands and hit her hard in the face.

"Sorry!" Ron groaned, zooming forward to see whether he had done any damage.

"Get back in position, she's fine," I barked. "But as you're passing to a teammate, do try not to knock her off her broom, won't you? We've got Bludgers for that!"

Katie's nose was bleeding. Down below the Slytherins were stamping their feet and jeering. Fred and George converged on Katie.

"Here, take this," Fred told her, handing her something small and purple from out of his pocket. "It'll clear it up in no time."