Supported & Torn (HP) {Book 3 of the Wild & Free Series}

21. Seen and Unforeseen

Luna said vaguely that she did not know how soon Rita's interview with Harry would appear in The Quibbler, that her father was expecting a lovely long article on recent sightings of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. "And, of course, that'll be a very important story, so Harry's might have to wait for the following issue," said Luna.

Harry and I had not found it an easy experience to talk about the night when Voldemort had returned. Rita had pressed us for every little detail, and we had given her everything we could remember, knowing that this was our one big opportunity to tell the world the truth. I wondered how people would react to the story. I guessed that it would confirm a lot of people in the view that Harry and I were completely insane, not least because our story would be appearing alongside utter rubbish about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

But the breakout of Bellatrix Lestrange and her fellow Death Eaters had given me a burning desire to do something, whether it worked or not...

"So, how was Quidditch practice?" I asked as Ron and Ginny sat down beside Hermione, Harry, Rowan and me.

"It was a nightmare," said Ron in a surly voice.

"Oh come on," said Hermione, looking at Ginny, "I'm sure it wasn't that —"

"Yes, it was," said Ginny. "It was appalling. Angelina was nearly in tears by the end of it."

Ron and Ginny went off for baths after dinner; Harry, Rowan, Hermione and I returned to the busy Gryffindor common room and our usual pile of homework. I had been struggling with a new star chart for Astronomy for half an hour when Fred and George turned up.

"Ron and Ginny not here?" asked Fred, looking around as he pulled up a chair and, when I shook my head, he said, "Good. We were watching their practice. They're going to be slaughtered. They're complete rubbish without us."

"Come on, Ginny's not bad," said George fairly, sitting in between Fred and me. "Actually, I dunno how she got so good, seeing how we never let her play with us..."

"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," said Hermione from behind her tottering pile of Ancient Rune books.

"Oh," said George, looking mildly impressed. "Well — that'd explain it."

"Has Ron saved a goal yet?" asked Hermione, peering over the top of Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms.

"Well, he can do it if he doesn't think anyone's watching him," said Fred, rolling his eyes. "So all we have to do is ask the crowd to turn their backs and talk among themselves every time the Quaffle goes up his end on Saturday."

He got up again and moved restlessly to the window, staring out across the dark grounds.

"You know, Quidditch was about the only thing in this place worth staying for." Hermione cast him a stern look.

"You've got exams coming!"

"Told you already, we're not fussed about N.E.W.T.s," said Fred. "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..."

George yawned widely and looked out disconsolately at the cloudy night sky.

"I dunno if I even want to watch this match. If Zacharias Smith beats us I might have to kill myself."

"Kill him, more like," said Fred firmly.

"That's the trouble with Quidditch," said Hermione absentmindedly, once again bent over her Rune translation, "it creates all this bad feeling and tension between the Houses."