The Spark {Book 5 in the Star of Gryffindor Series}

Chapter 12 - Peaked at 14

The Daily Prophet
Issue No. 102,000
12 November, 2021

Tightening Security

Minister of Magic Hestia Carrow and Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and war hero Harry Potter have both assured the press that they are doing all the can to prevent another attack like the St. Mungo's bombing. Many parents have pulled their children out of Hogwarts school for the remainder of the term, for fear that the historic academy will be the Predatels' next target. Harry Potter urges the public not to worry. "We must not let this rattle us. We have the power to not let anything of this magnitude happen again. All we need is your cooperation in tightening security. If we all come together, we will be able to defeat these terrorists."

~~~~

"Astra, we're going to be late!" Albus shouted up the stairs. I could barely hear his voice coming through the dorm door, but I groaned. Being late for Quidditch practice meant staying after to polish all the school brooms. I was not about to do that. I flung some more clothes around in my chest and finally spotted my jumper. Throwing it over my head, I ran out the door and pounded down the steps, almost knocking down a second year in my haste.

"Sorry!" I shouted at her over my shoulder. I didn't look back to see if she was glaring or not. She probably was.

"What took you so long?" Albus asked as I skidded to a halt at the bottom of the steps, to avoid crashing into him, Wren, and Colette.

"I couldn't find my jumper," I said, taking the moment to straighten it out. "It's too cold outside."

Albus gave me a weird look. "You have one chest. How on earth could you not find something in your one chest?"

"You'd be surprised." Colette said, frowning at me. "I don't know how she can function with a mess like that."

"It's not that bad," I protested, looking to Wren for support.

She smiled apologetically. "It's pretty bad..."

"It's not, I swear." I glanced at my watch. "Well, Albus, do you not want to be late, or do you? Because if we just stand around talking, we're going to be late."

Albus's eyes widened, and he turned to Wren. "Are you guys still planning on coming to watch? Because we've got to hurry."

"We can walk," Colette said, rolling her eyes. "We'll be down later."

Albus shrugged. "Smart. See you, then." Together, he and I tore off through the common room and out the portrait hole.

Quidditch, you might be surprised to find, is not the most exercise-heavy sport. Sure, you'll have a very difficult time playing if you're out of shape and can't even put the energy in to guiding your broom, but on the whole, it's got a pretty relaxed workout. Running through half the castle, down seven flights of stairs, and across the grounds was definitely not something I was used to. By the time we reached the pitch, I was so out of breath I couldn't talk. I could only listen as Fred chastised us about being early next time, because being "on time" meant we missed "valuable team-building time."

"Also, be on the lookout," Fred said, growing more serious (if that was possible. Fred thought nothing was more serious than Quididtch). "They're not telling the whole school, because they don't want people freaking out, but they spotted a bird that they think might be Isaac Predatel over by the lake." Fred pointed across the pitch, where two aurors were standing. "They're here to make sure we're safe during practice, so if you see anything, tell them."