In Between Two Worlds (HP/PJO Crossover)

Chapter 36: Confirmed Suspicions.

Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. Fred and George were complaining that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but I was on Wood's side. If we won our next match, against Hufflepuff, we would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.

Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave us a bit of bad news. He got very angry with Fred, George, and I(we kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off our brooms).

"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George really did fall off his broom at these words.

"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest us landed next to George to complain, too.

"It's not my fault," said Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Harry and I headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where we found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Bailey was sittng off to the side watching them. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her. I love her to pieces but even I have to admit, it keeps her ego in check.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, "I need to concen --" He caught sight of our faces. "What's the matter with you two? You look terrible. Both of you."

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry and I told the other three about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," said Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"Really break your leg," said Bailey.

"We can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. Or Chaser. If we back out, Gryffindor can't play at all. Plus I'm friends with Bec here. Everybody know she can heal a bone."

"Stop, Harry!" I said. "Your making me blush!"

"Ugh!" Exclaimed Mione. "Your turning into Fed and George!"

I was about to respond but at that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what we recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione and I. Mione leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling. "What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry, Ron, and I.

"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."