After taking her note to Penelope and sending it off from the owlery, Andrea made her way through the castle to the Great Hall. The weather was bright and only slightly cloudy, no wind to speak of, ideal for the Quidditch match which would be under way in an hour. As she entered the Hall she spotted Sophie, who waved her over, but she was forced to stop as someone decked out in green Quidditch robes stepped in her path abruptly.
“Good morning Miss Benning,” he smiled.
“Morning Mr. Malfoy,” Andrea replied.
“Lovely day for Quidditch, no?”
“Perfect conditions,” she barely was able to agree before he continued his side of the conversation.
“I wouldn’t ask that you actually cheer for Slytherin, but since I know you’re not a particular fan of Potter either,” he laughed, no doubt remembering her punching Harry during Potions, “You may as well join us in showing disdain for Weasley. Take one of these, my treat.” With that he thrust a small pin into her hand.
“Interesting. I have to be going now. Break a leg,” she said, truly hoping he would.
Soon enough she was sitting with Sophie, Roderick and Andrew, dishing up some hot eggs and sausages onto her plate as they all talked excitedly about the upcoming match, decked out in red and gold, the same as everyone else along the table. The whole house was keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of their team. The first to arrive for breakfast were Fred and George. The moment they stepped in the doors of the Great Hall, there was booing from the Slytherins, but it was drowned out almost completely by the cheers of the Gryffindors, and even some of the other houses.
The twins took it in stride, completely in their element. They bowed and nodded, acknowledging their adoring fans. As George passed Andrea, their eyes met for a split second, but he hurried past, and she quickly took a drink of her pumpkin juice. A moment later Fred passed, and having witnessed the moment, winked at Andrea in a cheeky way. She blushed slightly, her jaw dropping at his perceptiveness. Luckily she recovered before anyone but Edward could notice, and he kicked her leg playfully under the table.
It wasn’t long before the champion Seeker and rookie Beater turned up. They received a rousing welcome as well, but Ron seemed to be growing more pale by the moment. Andrea watched as he collapsed onto a nearby bench. Harry was faithfully at his side, trying, no doubt, to give Ron a pep talk and try to boost his confidence. That reminded her of the pin Malfoy had given her, she pulled it out of her pocket and looked at it. It was a silver crown shape with the message: Weasley is our King. This was obviously not an indication of anything good ahead. Hermione and Ginny passed at that moment, and Andrea called out to them. They stopped and she stood and went over to them.
“Thought you might want to take a look at this. No doubt there’s some kind of trouble afoot,” Andrea said apprehensively, holding out the pin for Hermione to take.
Hermione gasped as she read it.
“Malfoy’s idea of a joke,” she explained. “I expect there to be more than just this.”
Hermione handed it to Ginny, who shook her head, “We can’t let Ron see this, he’s nervous enough as it is.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Hermione said and they parted.
There was another rousing cheer as the Chasers entered and they sent the whole team off with an even louder ruckus than any of the previous. Looking up at the staff table, Andrea saw that Snape looked rather annoyed, McGonagall was glowing with sheer pride, and then, perhaps even worse than Snape’s attitude, was the look on Umbridge’s face. There were only two words to describe it, sly and scheming. That couldn’t mean anything good. No doubt she was looking for any excuse to extinguish as much of the excitement around as she possibly could.
Roderick matched her gaze, voicing his thoughts. “Is it just me, or does that woman seem like she’s always up to something?” The others nodded in agreement as they rose and began their plight to the pitch, hoping to get best pick of the seats.
The lawns were covered with frost, and in ten minutes there would be a well beaten path leading from the castle to the pitch, no longer frozen, and probably dry as well from all the traffic. They settled themselves on the top row, in the middle of the Gryffindor section, they were surrounded by the other fifth, sixth, and seventh years from their house. Word had been spread that any underclassmen found in the prime seating area would be treated to some hexes or other similar treatments, maybe even some nosebleed nougat, which Fred and George still hadn’t found the antidote for. There was a faint melody coming from the opposite stands, where the Slytherins were sitting.
It wasn’t long before the teams emerged to huge cheers and boos from either side. There was no question at the entrance of the Gryffindor House Team that they were heavily the favorite among the crowd. The teams lined up face to face. Angelina shook hands with Slytherin’s captain, Montague. Madam Hooch gave the signal for the players to mount brooms.
The whistle was blown and fourteen players and four balls flew into the air, and Lee Jordan’s commentary began.
“And it’s Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years but she still won’t go out with me -”
“JORDAN!” yelled Professor McGonagall.
Many of Lee’s fellow Gryffindor’s laughed, knowing full well that his pursuit of Angelina involved significantly more than flattery for her skills on the Quidditch field.
“Just a fun fact, Professor. Adds a bit of interest - and she’s ducked Warrington, she’s passed Montague, she’s - ouch - been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe. . . . Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and - nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that’s a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet’s away, dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger - close call, Alicia - and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what’s that they’re singing?”
Most of the stadium seemed to strain to hear just what it was the Slytherins were singing. It didn’t take long for everyone to figure out that this was bad news. Lee began to plow on with his commentary, and the Gryffindor fans immediately began to take action by dispatching a dozen or so people to try and get close enough to the Slytherins to start casting some silencing charms. They all would’ve gone, but that would draw unwanted attention. They decided that their best bet was to get into the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff sections and so they split into two groups. Andrea and Roderick went to the Ravenclaw side with Dean Thomas, William Burnoose, Colin Creevey, and Selene Grading. They rushed off in a single file line, wands already out. They climbed up into the stands and were greeted by some of their friends and easily let through to the side closest to the Slytherins. There they met up with Roger Davies and Cho Chang.
Roger was the first to notice the Gryffindors and looked at them, a frustrated look on his face. “It’s no use, we can’t get them to shut up!”
Cho explained, “We think they put up some kind of barrier in anticipation of anyone trying to silence them.”
“The blighters have only gotten louder since Weasley let that first goal in the hoop,” Davies was thoroughly annoyed.
“They got one past him?” Dean asked dejectedly.
“The second one came through just a minute ago,” Cho said, a solemn look on her face. It meant that they’d been able to find at least some sort of weakness in the Gryffindor team, but no one wanted Slytherin to win.
“We’ll keep on trying to figure something, but you may as well go back and just try and drown them out with everything you’ve got over on your side,” Cho said.
“They’re bloody annoying really. Probably have the blasted song in my head for a week,” Davies complained.
The Gryffindors thanked them for their help and went as fast as they could back to the scarlet and gold section, arriving just before the others who’d tried from Hufflepuff, reporting similar news of support from their friends over there. All they could do now was focus in on the game and try to boost Ron’s morale.
But Ron let in two more goals. There was a feeling of desperation among all of the fans. Everyone was hoping that either Potter would be able to hurry and find the Snitch, Fred and George would knock the whole Slytherin team unconscious one by one with Bludgers, or the Chasers would start some mad scoring streaks to bring Gryffindor into the lead.
“- and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she’s past Warrington, she’s heading for goal, come on now Angelina - GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It’s forty-ten, forty-ten to slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle. . . .”
The fans didn’t care as much about the score at this point as they did about the fact that a bit of hope had been restored. The went wild and even completely drowned out “Weasley Is Our King” strains for a few moments. Soon, however, everyone was back to paying rapt attention to the game’s progression.
“- Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey - Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good - I mean bad - Bell’s hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it’s Pucey in possession again. . . .”
Not many noticed the flash of gold, but everyone noticed when the two opposing Seekers each began taking some spectacular dives.
“They Snitch has been spotted, and both Potter and Malfoy are in immediate pursuit, they’re hot on the trail, neck and neck, headed to the goal hoops, but now they’re changing course slightly, it’s too close to call.”
The whole stadium held their breaths. They both extended their arms, reaching, groping . . .
It was Potter who raised his hand in the air triumphantly and everyone but the Slytherins erupted into deafening roars of approval, celebrating at the Slytherin’s defeat. Many people missed what happened next, but soon all were paying attention because the action on the field clearly wasn’t over.
A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forward off his broom; luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch, but he was probably winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch. At the sound of Madam Hooch’s whistle there was a deafening sound of catcalls, angry yells and jeering. Everyone continued to protest as they watched Angelina land next to Potter and then help him off the ground with a hand up. Madam flew straight to the perpetrator of the illegal Bludger, none other than Crabbe.
“Oh no,” Sophie said, as they all watched Malfoy land near Potter and Johnson. He seemed to be talking to Potter, but he turned around and greeted the rest of the team, except for Ron who quietly left the field by himself.
The next moment, however, the Weasley twins were both being restrained, one by Potter, the other by the three Chasers. They seemed to want to pummel Malfoy to the ground. Obviously whatever he was saying was truly horrible. No doubt something along the lines of “Weasley Is Our King,” Andrea had no doubt he’d penned that himself, having heard personally some of the jibes he’d thrown at Ron over the years.
It wasn’t long though before Harry let go of his teammate and they were both trying to beat the pulp out of Malfoy. Madam Hooch hadn’t noticed at first, being too busy laying into Crabbe, but then she saw the horrid display and shouted “IMPEDIMENTA!” bringing the brawl to a halt Madam Hooch was shouting something at the two while Malfoy was laying curled up, much to the amusement of many of the enemies he’d already created among the rest of the houses. The girls still had a firm hold on Fred while Harry and George walked off the field in the direction of the castle. They weren’t followed by any other students, everyone wanted to see if there was going to be anything else of note taking place as part of the aftermath.
There wasn’t, and soon enough the stands emptied and the students all made their way back to the castle, some to the Library, others to the Great Hall, or their House common rooms and various other destinations. However, even though everyone was spread across their respective parts of the castle, by mid-afternoon everyone had heard that Umbridge banned Harry Potter, Fred and George Weasley from ever playing Quidditch again, as per the new powers given her by the newest Educational Decree.
No one had seen hair nor hide of Ronald Weasley since the end of the match. The rest of the team sat brooding around the fire as things started to wind down in Gryffindor Tower from the bustle of homework and other things. Hermione and Ginny were the only ones who dared to delve into the circle of foul moods. Everyone else left them well enough alone. The Snitch, which Harry had forgotten to leave on the field in his anger, only served as a mesmerizing reminder of the blow to the Gryffindor team.
The common room emptied, and many people were sound asleep in the girls dormitories before Hermione came into the room she shared with Sophie and Andrea. Andrea was still awake, and she watched silently as Hermione gathered an array of warm clothes, including a hat she had knitted. It was obvious Hermione was preparing for some sort of outdoor excursion. Andrea let well enough alone. She remembered well just how tightly wound Hermione was their first year at Hogwarts, and was glad that she had relaxed significantly.
A few minutes after Hermione left the dormitory, Andrea went back out to the common room, sleep completely eluding her this evening. The empty common room was extremely peaceful, and the large fire was finally settling down, starting to edge toward the point of embers, but there was still going to be a while before it died completely. She settled into a big comfy chair, watching the flames flicker pleasantly.
After a half an hour, Andrea still wasn’t any closer to feeling sleepy, but she did hear some noise on one of the stairways behind her, the one leading from the boys dormitory. Andrea was pleasantly surprised to see it was George Weasley who had come down into the common room and there was a small whir of butterflies in her stomach. She watched as he crossed to the far side of the room and shuffled through some loose leaves of parchment that had been left on one of the large study tables. Once he found what he was looking for, he turned to go back into the dormitory, but stopped, seeing Andrea there. She smiled, quirking an eyebrow, “Homework Weasley?”
“No, just looking for a set of experimental notes from one of the last tests Fred and I conducted on the skivving snackboxes,” he replied, holding up the renegade parchment. “What are you doing still up?” he asked, coming over and sitting on a chair nearby.
“Can’t sleep,” she shrugged.
“Would you like to try a complimentary piece of Fainting Fancy? It’s supposed to make you faint but so far all Fred and I can get is just heavy drowsiness, followed by sleep,” he explained.
“Would I actually be able to wake up in the reasonably near future?” she asked giving a small laugh, knowing that a few of their Skivving Snackboxes still didn’t have all the quirks smoothed out.
“Yes,” he smiled, then winced slightly, putting his hand to his lip. “Kind of forgot about having Madam Pomfrey take a look at that.”
Andrea leaned forward and moved his hand away. “That’s a nasty battle wound. How could you’ve forgotten.?”
“Well, I haven’t been smiling much today since it happened.”
Andrea pulled out her wand. “Accio healing kit!” A moment later, a small black box came to rest in her lap. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?”
“I’d really appreciate it,” George answered.
Andrea opened the box, murmured a few words, then pulled out a warm, wet rag and started to clean his bloody lip from the brawl with Malfoy. He pulled back from the initial sting, wincing a bit. Andrea smiled. “It smarts a bit more than when you actually got the injury doesn’t it?”
George laughed softly, nodding in agreement. He let her finish cleaning it. Andrea then went back to her little black box and pulled out a small jar. When she opened it, there was an overwhelming scent of mint, making George cough a little in his initial reaction. Andrea smiled, “This salve should help.” She put a dab on her finger and gently applied it to his lip. George watched her intently as she tended to the injury, his pulse starting to go faster. She took h is breath away whenever he saw her, but he hadn’t had a really private conversation with her since last year. They’d never been actual friends spending time together and the like, but they were very friendly toward each other whenever they were in the same places at the same times.
She paused when she chanced a quick look at George’s eyes and was ensnared by them. Her cheeks took on an immediate shade of deep red, and she hoped that the common room was becoming sufficiently dark enough to hide the brunt of it. George took a deep breath, and then coughed from the strong scent of the mint salve. They were both glad the tension had been broken. “Well, tomorrow, there should be almost no trace of this cut.”
“Really?” he asked. She nodded. “Thanks.”
“It was no trouble.” There was a moment or two of silence, then Andrea took a deep breath and started to plow through what she’d been thinking most of the day. “I cannot believe the gall that Umbridge has! Banning you, Fred and Harry from the team! And Crabbe, all he gets is lines? It’s an injustice and totally absurd!” she finished rather vehemently.
“It’s good to hear you say that,” George gave a small smile. “I honestly want to strangle the woman. I mean, Quidditch is one of the only reasons Fred and I even decided to come back to Hogwarts. Our future isn’t planned so much on NEWT results. That and our mum probably would’ve turned us into tea cozies in her anger.”
They both laughed heartily at this comment, George’s mood finally starting to grow a bit happier. “So Quidditch is the only reason? I don’t know if I’d come back just for that. You can play Quidditch anywhere, and you and Fred are good enough to get on one of the teams in the league.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah, are you kidding? You’re brilliant!” she was smiling widely at this, and he was now matching it. “I mean you and Fred both,” she added, hastily breaking their eye contact again.
George logged away that comment to think about later. After a moment, he said, “Andrea can I ask you something?”
She was studying the fire intently again as she had been before he’d come down to the common room, it always seemed to ease her tension. “Of course - you just did,” she smiled at him, looking at him from the corner of her eye. He rolled his eyes. “But I imagine you wanted to ask me something a bit more substantial.”
“Why didn’t you go out for the team this year? I saw you watching from the stands with Edward Abercrombie and Neal Thatcher. I’ve heard you and Roderick are both really good.”
“From Angelina?” George nodded. “It’s simple: I don’t play Keeper, and neither does Roderick. Between my oldest brother who keeps for the Kestrals and all the other players who drop in we’re never in want of a Keeper at the Benning Manor.”
“Have you ever tried your hand at Seeker or Beater? I hear the house team has a few openings,” he groaned. He stood and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a Fainting Fancy and tossed it to her saying, “Think it over anyway. I’m going back up before Fred comes looking for me. This paper,” he lifted his hand which held the bit of parchment, “is what he sent me down here for after all.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“No, thank you.” He began to retreat to the stairway to the boys dormitory.
“Goodnight.”
“‘Night Andrea.”
He’d been glad that he’d been rather busy with Quidditch and Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes this year, because it had given him ample reason to avoid talking to her. Not that he didn’t want to, he just didn’t know what to say to her anymore. They’d spoken one evening right before the end of term last year, and that evening, he realized that he might actually be developing feelings for her. Seeing her after a summer apart, during which time she’d grown twice as beautiful as she was before didn’t help matters. Also, the few times he’d spoken to her this year had given him an odd feeling that he wasn’t used to. Dare he call it nerves? Tonight confirmed the suspicion that had been growing in his head for the past months, though he hadn’t been positive until tonight.
He truly fancied Andrea Benning. She was one of the most beautiful girls in the school now, rather smart, great Quidditch player, and had a bright personality. Not to mention that she was sought after, though she didn’t seem to notice. He groaned inwardly as he plowed up the staircase for he knew he was in way over his head.