Harry Potters Twin Book Three

The Quidditch Stag ~not edited~

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Lupin's anti-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, I had one night to do all my homework.

Hermione wasn't talking to me even though we had to go back in time repeatedly to go to every class, she seemed to think that I was mad at her, which is rediculous. But even though I had alot of time, my schedule was crammed, and I didn't even have time to sleep anymore. My homewrok pile was always clear though, I couldn't bring in any one late because that would mess up my planning, which would mess up my future, which would make me poor, which would make me live with Harry, which would make me go crazy, which wouldn't be so good for my future children-

"Stop day dreaming and finish your Muggle Studies essay." Hermione snapped. I blinked and did my last inch of my essay.

Even with all of my plans piled on my day (not to mention sneaking out every night to feed and talk to Snuffles as a dog), I was not showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload was as much as mine but it finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Hermione was to be seen in a corner of the common room with me, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted. I at least didn't scare the first years away, though I was getting a little snarky.

"How're they doing it?" I heard Ron muttered to Harry one evening as I sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. I glanced at Hermione who was sitting next to me and was surprised when I seen that we were both barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

"Doing what?" Harry muttered back.

"Getting to all their classes!" Ron said. "I heard them talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione and Nixie can't've been there, because they both were with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me they've never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and they've never missed one of them either!"

Two seconds later I was interrupted by Wood.

"Bad news, Nixie. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolts. She — er — got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first." Wood shook his head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me… you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it…" He screwed up his face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. "As long as necessary, Wood"… I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Nixie. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick… you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Malfoy's got."

"I'm not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good," I said flatly. "Please, Wood, I have more homework then the fifth years - and they have got OWL's! I need to focus. Everything will work out in the end..." Hopefully.

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but I still hadn't ordered a new broom. Me and Harry were now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at our shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted.