Alexandra Dursley {Golden Trio}

Chapter 21 - Panic on the Pitch

Bit of a long one for you today, folks! :)

 "He's faking it!" Al heard Harry yell from somewhere down the corridor. She soon spotted him talking to his Quidditch captain - he'd obviously just found out Gryffindor wouldn't be playing Slytherin.

 "You can wipe that smirk off your face," she told Draco as they entered the Great Hall, who did no such thing. She sat down opposite him with a huff and helped herself to some Shepherd's Pie, "I feel really bad about lying to him."

 "I don't," he said smugly, slicing some carrot, "We're going to win the cup, again."

 "It's just a game!" she protested, "Is it really worth lying about?" He nodded, chewing, so she flung some mashed potato at him. It hit him right on his cheek, and splattered into his hair. He swallowed and tentatively brought his hand up to his face.

"You are so dead, Dursley," he said slowly, looking murderous and she giggled.

 Just then, Daphne and Theo strolled up behind them, "Oh, Draco - you've got a little..." Daphne said, pointing at her own cheek.

 "I know," he growled, snatching a napkin off Theo, causing Al to giggle again.

 "Did you do this?" Theo asked her, a broad grin on his face. She could only nod.

*****

 Al turned up to that week's Defence lesson with Daphne, Theo and Draco, and they were all surprised to see Snape stood there instead of Lupin. They took their seats, whispering between themselves about where Lupin could be. Al watched as the Gryffindors trickled in, each of them eyeing Snape suspiciously. "I don't mind the replacement," Draco said, despite no one asking.

 "Of course you don't," Daphne commented from next to Al.

 "Suck up," Al added, and she watched as Draco's cheeks turned a pale pink. Snape started talking about the importance of the Defence Against the Dark Arts, to the point where even Granger and Draco - who always listened to Snape's every word - looked like they might dose off.

 Ten minutes into the lesson, Harry skidded through the door, and a look of loathing fell on both his and Snape's faces. "Where's Professor Lupin?" he asked after Snape took a load of points off Gryffindor.

 "He's too ill to teach today, Potter. Now sit down," Snape replied.

 After a bit of bickering between the two, Harry made his way over to his seat and Snape instructed the class to turn to the chapter on werewolves. "But sir," Hermione whined, and half the Slytherins rolled their eyes, "We're only on hinkypunks at the minute." Snape looked murderous and Al snickered.

 "I'd expect no less from a first year class," he stated, and Al couldn't help but be offended along with the rest of the class. "Who can tell me the difference between a werewolf and a true wolf?" Hermione's hand shot up, and Al put her hand up too, but a bit slower, so as not to take Daphne's eye out. "Miss Dursley?"

 "Werewolves are bigger," she said, "And they're short-haired beasts as opposed to long-haired."

 "Well done," Snape said, "Ten points to Slytherin."

 Hermione seemed unable to resist speaking again, "You missed off the snout's unusual shape-" she began before Snape interrupted her,

 "That is the second time you've spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Are you incapable of not being an insufferable know-it-all?" Snape snapped, silencing her. Even Al had to admit that was a little harsh. Ron spoke up and landed himself a detention, "And on my desk on Monday I want two rolls of parchment on how to identify a werewolf." The class groaned.

*****

 Al had elected to study in the library instead of going all the way to the Quidditch pitch in torrential rain. She was trying to map out what she'd seen in her vision, and failing miserably. She knew a killing curse had been fired at Harry, which had then bounced onto Voldemort, but she had no idea what happened after that.

 She soon gave up and moved onto her werewolf essay for Snape. She was analysing the lunar charts when she noticed something odd. Last Tuesday had been the second day of the full moon. The same day Lupin had been off. And two moons before that had finished the day she left for Hogwarts. When Lupin had had to travel on the train because he was so ill. Was he - a werewolf? It would explain his boggart! The glowing orb was actually a full moon. Which means it was highly plausible that he was Moony from the photo! Poor Lupin - imagine having to teach eleven-year-olds as well as turn into a werewolf and have your ex-bestfriend escape from prison. And he was going to have to mark this essay as soon as he got back. She snapped her book shut - she wasn't going to do it if he had to mark it. The detention would be worth it.

 Suddenly, the Weasley twins burst into the library, making the ten or so students glance up. They were dripping mud and rainwater everywhere, so Madame Pince rushed over, clearly terrified they might get it on the books. They had a hurried conversation and then she nodded and pointed over to where Al was studying.

 She stood up , meeting them halfway between the entrance and her table, "Harry had an accident," Fred told her, clearly panicking.

 "Oh my god," she breathed, following them out.

 Five minutes later and she was sat beside Harry's bed in the hospital wing, with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Ron and Hermione gathered around too. The latter pair kept glowering at her, while the rest of them (minus Fred and George) looked confused as to why she was there.

 He was pale and bruised and his breathing was shallow. Madame Pomfrey had dried him off and swamped him in blankets, which only made him look smaller than he already was. She'd said she was sure he'd be alright, but there was always a chance he wouldn't be. According to Fred and George, the dementors had turned up at the match, which made him pass out, and he fell fifty feet to the ground.

 The Quidditch Captain, Wood, showed up a little bit after she had, his eyes red and puffy. Al recognised him as the guy she'd spoken to in the Three Broomsticks, "Is he going to be alright?" he asked the group.

 Al shrugged, "Probably." She still didn't like him, even if he was Harry's friend.

 His eyes widened, "Probably?"

 "We really don't know," she told him, expanding on her original statement. He visibly deflated and then mumbled something about going to shower.

 About an hour later, Harry woke up. His team started explaining what had happened at the match, but Al stayed quiet, as she had for the last hour. Soon Madame Pomfrey came along and kicked them all out, leaving only Harry, Ron, Hermione and Al. Ron and Hermione now started talking to him, but Al let her mind drift, watching Harry. He still looked pale and terrified, but now also downtrodden.

 Hermione now tipped the shattered remains of Harry's broomstick onto the bed and Al snapped out of her trance. Out of nowhere, Harry spoke up, "I saw the Grim." He looked surprised that he'd said anything at all.

 Ron gasped and Hermione looked disbelieving. "Sorry, the what?" Al asked, very confused.

 "It's a death omen," Hermione explained. Clearly it was some of that Divination rubbish.

 "Well - what does it look like?" she asked Harry.

 He swallowed, "A big black dog," he said simply. Something clicked in Al's mind. Padfoot. Could that dog have been Black in his animagus form? It would make sense - but she had no way to be sure - unless? Could she ask Lupin?

 "Wouldn't you have died when you fell if it had been the Grim?" she asked him in a matter-of-fact tone.

 "Supposedly," Hermione said, answering for him. Ron continued to glare at her.

 There were a few moments of silence, which Al took as her excuse to leave, "get well soon, Harry," she said, before heading down to the common room.