“Yay, Quidditch!” cheered Emma, waving her hand-decorated flag enthusiastically. Sirius gave her a reprimanding glare. “What?” she asked more quietly.
Sirius shook his head dismissively, and then hissed to Emma out of the corner of his mouth, “Remember that you’re introducing the Slytherin team.”
“What?” asked Emma, startled, as fear and embarrassment started to take a hold of her.
But Sirius didn’t answer her as he had just brought the microphone up to his mouth again in order to start introducing the Gryffindor team. “I give you “ Chase! Tyler! Potter! White! Harper! Cowlard! Aaaaaaand “ North!”
“-Who’s going the wrong way,” commented Emma.
“I - what?” asked Sirius, momentarily losing his thread and spinning around to face her.
“Sam, he’s going the wrong way.” Emma pointed at the miniscule red blur that was indeed Sam North.
“No he isn’t-” answered Sirius, looking in the direction in which she was pointing.
“Well, everyone else in our team seems to be heading that way-” Emma gestured to the left.
“That’s because we’re scoring in the left hand hoop, and Sam’s the Keeper, which means he has to guard the right hand hoops where the Slytherins are scoring.”
Emma’s face flamed red as she heard numerous titters emanate from the crowd. “Oh.”
“Tyler in possession!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, making Emma jump. “Introduce the Slytherin team,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, passing the microphone over to her.
“Right, okay,” replied Emma nervously, trying frantically to remember their names. But as soon as she approached the microphone everything that Sirius had hurriedly muttered to her in the common room before the match about Quidditch and the teams was whipped away. Her mind was blank. Panicking, she did the only thing she could think of and introduced the Slytherin team based on the appearance of their hair. “I give you “ Ginge!” shouted Emma, referring to the Keeper who had a mop of ginger hair. “Curly!” The Chaser that was now in possession of the Quaffle. “Greasy!” The Chaser that had just avoided a Bludger that had been hit by Lesley Cowlard. “Blonde!” The Chaser that was now caught up in a shoving match with James. “Sandy!” The Beater that had just sent a Bludger at Michaela Chase, who had just seized the Quaffle from ‘Curly’. “Wow!” Emma exclaimed at the female Beater who had just flown past the commentator’s podium with luminous pink hair. Breaking off from introducing the last Slytherin team member, Emma turned to Sirius and asked, indicating the last player’s hair, “Can I-?”
“No,” replied Sirius shortly.
“But-“
“No.”
“But you let me have a lion!”
“I didn’t let you have a lion; I had no choice in the matter! And seeing as you’ve asked my opinion this time around, I’m going to say no, and that you are not going to dye your hair luminous pink!” Emma folded her arms and glared at him. Sirius coughed pointedly at her, before quickly seizing the microphone and yelling, “Potter tries to score “ but it’s unfortunately saved by McCallum.”
Emma, realising that Sirius’ cough meant that she hadn’t yet finished introducing the Slytherin team, grabbed the microphone off of him, but only then did she remember who it was that was the last member of the Slytherins. “Aaaaaaand… Bitch!” she yelled vehemently at Sian Morgan, who was closely tailing Kirsty in case she made a sudden dive for the Snitch.
Emma turned to see Sirius with his mouth agape staring incredulously at her; he furiously grabbed the microphone off her and muttered apologetically to the crowd the actual names of the Slytherin Quidditch team. “Sullivan, Rosier, Hatcher McCallum, Hicks, Devlin and Morgan. Oooooh, McCallum just manages to dodge the Bludger sent his way by Cowlard!”
As Sirius continued to commentate on the match’s uneventful proceedings, Emma’s attention began to ebb away. Even someone with Emma’s knowledge of Quidditch could see that it looked highly unlikely that either team was going to score anytime soon, seeing as both teams were doing their utmost to prevent their opposition from scoring. In fact, apart from James’ previous shot at goal, the Quaffle hadn’t manage to get anywhere near the region of the goalhoops.
A scowl hitched itself upon Emma’s face as she watched Sian continuously tail Kirsty high above the stands. Suddenly feeling uncharacteristically vindictive, Emma plunged her hand inside her robes and pulled out her wand, all the while being extremely careful not to be seen. This match could do with brightening up a little, she thought with a broad smirk as she watched Sian and Kirsty set off on another round of the Quidditch pitch.
Casting a sideways glance at Sirius to make sure that he was still immersed in his commentary, Emma carefully aimed her wand at Sian’s face as she and Kirsty raced straight towards the commentator’s podium. “Effingo,” she muttered with a grin. A blinding jet of red and yellow light shot out of the end of Emma’s wand and hit Sian squarely in the face. Luckily for Emma, the spell emanated from the wand with such speed that, if you’d have blinked, you’d have missed it.
Sian froze upon the spell’s impact; clearly she was in shock. Looking as if she was taking great care to grip onto her broom tightly with her legs, Sian proceeded to bring her hands up to her face to check to see what damage the spell had done to her.
Emma was giggling silently, her mouth encased in her Gryffindor scarf to hide her glee. Sirius’ commentary seemed to have stopped as he stared dumbly at the scene before him.
Sian stopped probing her face; she was now looking extremely perplexed. A giggle accidentally escaped from Emma’s mouth, and Sirius turned to survey her, raising one eyebrow sceptically. Emma surreptitiously hid her wand behind her back.
A deafening roar of laughter then stemmed from the vast crowd seated behind Emma, and the grin on her face broadened.
Sian, seemingly realising that some sort of prank had been played on her, zoomed off over to the Slytherin Beater, Lucinda Devlin, to see what she had been subjected to. That was the genius of the spell, mused Emma, the victim had no idea what had happened to them, but everybody in the close vicinity were free to have a great laugh at their expense.
Kirsty, who must have been just as bemused as Sian as to what was going on, snorted derisively as Sian passed her on the way to Lucinda. She doubled over with laughter, which was no mean feat seeing as she was still sat on her broom. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to cause herself to fall off. It was a good job that the other Quidditch players were also incapacitated (the Gryffindors by laughter, the Slytherins fuming with anger at the injustice of a prank being performed on one of their team members), otherwise Gryffindor may have been in danger of losing the match.
Madam Hooch streaked though the air on her broom to reach Sian and assess the situation. As she passed James, Emma took in the fact that tears were trickling down his face from laughter.
Unable to contain herself, Emma swivelled her head to the right and squinted over at Sam. Her heart leapt when she saw that he too was laughing relentlessly in what Emma hoped was a vindictive manner. Did the fact that he was laughing so openly at Sian prove that he harboured no feelings towards her whatsoever? Even as she thought this, the familiar flip in her stomach made a welcome return. Of course she still liked Sam, she had liked him continuously for over two years now, and her profuse denials to the girls that she could no longer care less about him had all been lies. She loved him. She loved him a hell of a lot more than even she could comprehend. She had known for sometime now that her feelings towards Sam had progressed much further than that of a school girl’s crush. But what was she to do? Telling him was definitely out of the question. She’d practically die of embarrassment if Sam ever found out how she felt. At the moment, keeping her feelings bottled up seemed like the only really logical thing to do.
It seemed that Sian had now gathered, from her informant, what had been done to her face. She spun around on her broom and stared over towards the commentators’ podium, directly at Emma. Emma couldn’t help it; she laughed again as she saw Sian’s appearance, face on, for the second time. Sian’s face was now, without a doubt, the most brightly coloured of all the students gathered. Emma had made it so that Sian, too was emanating some Gryffindor spirit, if somewhat begrudgingly. Like Emma, Sian was now sporting a bright gold lion on a red background, but instead of it being on her hair, Emma had transfigured it so that it encompassed the whole of Sian’s, now livid, face.
Sian continued to scowl in Emma’s direction as Madam Hooch flew over to her. Emma’s belief that Sian’s accusatory glares at her were nothing more than a hunch was slowly vanishing to be replaced by the horrible thought that Sian may know that it was indeed Emma who had performed the spell, but as Emma surveyed Sian even more closely, she realised that her gaze was now pinned on Sirius. Emma’s stomach gave a horrible jolt. She didn’t want Sirius to get in trouble either; he had had nothing to do with it. If Sian declared to Madam Hooch that she believed Sirius to be the guilty party, then Sirius would be sacked from his job as commentator - a job that he had wanted so much seeing as it was the nearest thing he could get to actually being on the Quidditch team. Whereas she, Emma, was only stood up there alongside him because she had thought it might be a laugh.
She shot a guilty and apologetic look in Sirius’ direction, but he was oblivious and laughing uncontrollably at the Slytherin Seeker. Removing her gaze slowly from his face, Emma made the decision that, if it came to it that Sirius got the blame, she would own up. After all, true friends got their friends out of trouble, not into it.
Once again, Emma’s gaze landed upon the miniscule Quidditch player that was Sian, Emma’s hatred for her bubbling just underneath the surface once more. However, Emma’s stomach gave another, more pleasant, jolt when she saw that Sian’s gaze was no longer on Sirius and herself. Sian had now focused her attentions on the members of the Gryffindor team, and even as Emma watched the frantic movements of her eye line, Sian turned her gaze to look over the top of Emma’s head and into the stands. Emma supposed she was now looking for any suspicious behaviour that may have been emanating from Hayley, Lily, Peter or Remus.
A heated discussion was now in progression between Sian and Madam Hooch. It was safe to say that their referee was absolutely furious. After many frantic hand gestures, Madam Hooch raised her silver whistle to her lips for the second time that morning, and even the crowd silenced themselves. Following a hastily performed Sonorus charm Madam Hooch’s voice echoed menacingly throughout the entire Quidditch pitch. “Who is responsible for this?” she roared, jabbing her finger towards Sian’s face. Emma saw Kirsty, James and Sam cease their laughing at once.
Being careful to keep her movements to a minimum, Emma surveyed the crowd around her. Every single one of them had now stopped laughing and they were all remaining frightfully still, as if they thought that even the slightest of movements would imply that they were somehow involved in the prank.
Madam Hooch ploughed on regardless; she seemed not to have been expecting anything that was anywhere near the region of an apology. “The person responsible for this abomination, when caught, is facing a full week’s worth of detentions and a ban from observing, or participating in any way, in further Quidditch matches.” Madam Hooch took a deep calming breath, before announcing in a voice resembling its usual sharpness, “Penalty to Slytherin.”
“What?” screeched Sirius from Emma’s side, and Sirius wasn’t the only one in uproar - there was immediately a chorus of angry mutterings from the disgruntled Gryffindors in the crowd.
James sped over to Madam Hooch so fast that, when he braked, the sheer force threw his head forward and his glasses dived off the bridge of his nose, so that he had to make a quick, fumbling catch in order to retrieve them. His frantic hand gestures suggested to Emma that he was arguing against Madam Hooch’s decision.
Having not yet lifted the Sonorus charm from upon herself, Madam Hooch’s replies to James’ pleas echoed throughout the stands. “Didn’t do any harm you say? This match has been delayed for nearly ten minutes, Mr Potter, which is no doubt the result that the spell caster wished to obtain.”
“-On the contrary, Mr Potter, I would say that the odds show that this charm was more than likely performed by a member of Gryffindor house, if not the Gryffindor Quidditch team itself.”
““I am merely suggesting this because you, Mr Potter, along with your fellow team mates, and the members of your little group, are all supporting the same sort of facial decorations that are now covering Miss Morgan’s face. So if I were you, Mr Potter, I’d watch my step, otherwise I might start making accusations a little closer to home.”
James opened and closed his mouth for a good few seconds, doing a reasonably good impression of a flying fish.
“I stand firmly by my decision, Potter. Now I command you to get back in position!”
James looked very much as if he would have liked to scream a mixture of profanities at Madam Hooch, but maturely, he held his tongue, and admitting defeat, he flew over to take up his position as Hatcher flew forward to take the penalty.
“North makes a rather impressive dive for the Quaffle “ but, damn, he misses Slytherin lead ten-nil.”
Emma watched as James, Michaela and Luke sped off back up the pitch in possession of the Quaffle hoping to draw level. Kirsty had also resumed her search for the Snitch, with Sian not far behind her. Emma smiled gleefully once more when she saw that Madam Hooch had been unable to find the countercharm needed to rid Sian of her face paint. This was the second ingenious thing about the prank - the face paint couldn’t be removed until the match was over.
“Well, I think that’s the first time that I’ve seen the first points of a Quidditch match scored through a penalty; I think we may have just seen a first for Hogwarts Quidditch,” Sirius informed the crowd. ““Potter in possession of the Quaffle “ and yes he’s dodged Rosier “ it’s a clear field “ come on James! What the-? The dirty scumbag “ foul, ref, foul “ yes! Penalty awarded to Gryffindor for Slytherin Beater, Dennis Hicks, ramming the Chaser into the stands.”
“-Potter to take the penalty for Gryffindor… but - James misses ““ The shock in Sirius’ voice was evident. It seemed that James’ fury at having been on the receiving end of a foul had made him miss the goalhoop by several feet.
“-Slytherin back in possession, and it’s McCallum for Slytherin heading for goal “ he passes to Rosier, who erm drops it “ the Quaffle falls several inches before being caught by “ White?”
At Sirius’ words Emma stopped ogling at Sam and turned her attention instead to Kirsty, who was, like Sirius had said, flying just below Rosier with the Quaffle perched between the tips of her fingers.
“What does she think she’s doing? She’s the Seeker, for God’s sake!” cried Sirius in dismay.
Emma was equally puzzled as to what Kirsty’s intentions could possibly be. James was now gesturing furiously at her to drop the Quaffle and return to looking for the Snitch.
Sian, who had continued to tail Kirsty even though she had made a beeline for the Slytherin Chasers, was now hovering inches away from her. Without warning, Kirsty suddenly spun around on her broom, so that she was facing Sian head on, and threw the Quaffle straight at her opponent’s Gryffindor-patterned face.
Emma, who had become scarily proficient at lip reading over the years, just made out that Kirsty had informed Sian that she was ‘sorry’ and that she ‘thought she was a Gryffindor’.
Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded yet again, and she cried, “Penalty to Slytherin for an unprovoked attack on their Seeker by Gryffindor’s Seeker, masquerading as a Chaser!”
“Rosier comes forward to take Slytherin’s penalty- “ Sirius groaned loudly as Sam missed yet again. “Slytherin lead twenty-nil-“
“-This is all your fault!” Sirius hissed at Emma out of the corner of his mouth.
“What? What do you mean, it’s all my fault? I didn’t make Kirsty throw the Quaffle at Sian-“
“-No, but you are responsible for why she did it!” Emma looked at him dumbstruck for a few moments. “I know it was you, Em.”
Emma did not need him to elaborate on his accusation; it was perfectly clear that Sirius knew of her involvement in the prank. Emma, however, not wanting to confess just yet, reverted to the classic response that people often make confronted with something of which they know full well they are guilty. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes, you do,” contradicted Sirius, giving Emma a stern look.
Wanting to look anywhere but into Sirius’ searching eyes, Emma looked out over the Quidditch pitch, and what she saw there made her give a small, excited squeal. Sirius, clearly wanting to know what had caused this momentary excitement from her, followed Emma’s eye line. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw Sirius’ eyes go wide, before he yanked the microphone up to meet his partially-opened lips. “White’s seen the Snitch! She’s gone into a full-blown dive; I highly doubt that she’s feinting! Morgan is nowhere near! White’s got a clear field! Come on, Kirst, you can do it! “ Ouch! You complete and utter“ “
Emma managed to drag the microphone from Sirius’ seemingly unrelenting grip, before he subjected the younger students to a long string of profanities. When, and only when, she was completely sure that he had calmed down enough, Emma handed Sirius back the microphone in order to allow him to continue with his commentary. “McCallum blocks White from catching the Snitch and forces White to collide with him head on!”
Madam Hooch had flown over to assess the damage that had been done, as had James, and Emma was now bouncing up and down on her tiptoes trying to see over the top of Madam Hooch’s head to find out if Kirsty was all right.
After a few minutes without any sign of Kirsty, Emma grew impatient and once again yanked the microphone from Sirius’ grasp. “Are you all right, Kirst?”
Within seconds of her question, however, the gathering of McCallum, James, Kirsty and Madam Hooch all flew off, with Kirsty giving Emma a fleeting thumbs up.
“-And it seems as if Gryffindor has been awarded a penalty for the attack on their Seeker!” exclaimed Sirius, sounding vindicated.
“-Potter comes forward once again to try his luck at a penalty “ he takes aim and “ yes! James scores! Gryffindor gain ten points. The score is now twenty“ten to Slytherin.” Emma cheered loudly along with the other Gryffindors at this announcement.
Spurred on by James’ successful penalty, Gryffindor scored again in a matter of minutes, making them level with Slytherin. But panic set in once again when Sullivan streaked towards the Gryffindor goalhoops. Not wanting Slytherin to gain the lead yet again, Emma threw caution to the wind and yelled encouragingly over to Sam, “Come on, Sam, you can do it, I know you can!”
For the briefest of seconds before Sullivan got within scoring range, Emma and Sam’s eyes met for the first time since Halloween, and Emma’s breath caught in her throat.
“Sullivan aims “ but North makes a spectacular save and the score remains at twenty-twenty.”
Looking the happiest Emma had seen him in ages, Sam grinned broadly at her, and Emma found herself grinning proudly back at him.
“Well done, Em,” Sirius whispered in her ear. Emma turned towards him, startled. “I knew that if anyone could get our Keeper back on track, it would be you “ and just so you know, I thought that your prank was bloody brilliant too! I highly doubt whether I could’ve come up with a better one myself!” Emma flushed red - that was high praise indeed coming from a Marauder.
“-Chase scores! Gryffindor lead thirty-twenty.”
“-North blocks Hatcher’s attempt at goal.”
“Aaaaaaand it’s Tyler with the Quaffle “ forty-twenty to Gryffindor!”
Once again Lucinda Devlin zoomed past the commentator’s podium in hot pursuit of a Bludger, and Emma, deciding to take advantage of Sirius’ good mood since Gryffindor now had double Slytherin’s score, asked, “Can I-?”
“No.”
Emma furrowed her brow; how in heaven’s name did Sirius know what she had been about to ask. “But-“
“No.”
“But you didn’t even hear the question-”
“Fine, what were you going to say, Emma?”
“Can I dye your hair?”
“No!”
“What not““
“No.”
“Not even““
“No, Emma, you are not dying my hair blond!”
“How did you know that I wanted to dye it blond?”
“Because I know you, Emma.”
Emma looked at him affronted. “Fine, can I dye James’ hair then?”
“Sure, go for it.”
“Yay!” exclaimed Emma as she did a little dance of celebration.
“-But only if you let me shave Sam’s hair off first,”
“… I’ll leave James’ hair alone.”
“Good girl.”
From that moment on, whether because she was feeling rebellious against Sirius and to some extent his commentary, or whether because Sirius’ mention of Sam had triggered it unconsciously, Emma found her gaze continuously pinned upon the handsome Gryffindor Keeper. Sam was now playing with his old, unmatched Quidditch talent, spurring his team members on to greater heights with every spectacular save. As of yet, Kirsty hadn’t managed to clasp her fingers around the elusive Golden Snitch, but there was still time…
And so it was that Gryffindor came to be winning with a score of eighty points, Sam having only let in two more goals from the Slytherin Chasers, which meant that the current score, according to Sirius’ commentary, stood at eighty-forty to Gryffindor.
If it wasn’t for the fact that she had been looking at Sam, and Kirsty had soared across her eye-line, Emma would have never been aware of Kirsty’s near collision with a very well-aimed Bludger.
-------------
Kirsty heard a whooshing in her ears as the Bludger narrowly missed her right cheek. Her body arched away from the heavy ball, so that she was involuntarily watching the Bludger’s progression as it streaked passed her.
Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that, once again, Sian had been tailing her. Kirsty froze in shock as Sian’s comeuppance for resorting to such lazy Quidditch tactics came in a matter of seconds as the Bludger, originally intended for Kirsty, flew at an unaware Sian before she even had time to instigate a suitable defence. Kirsty winced as it barged painfully into Sian’s shoulder.
Sian let out a yelp of pain and looked directly towards Kirsty. The look of pure ferocity, hatred and accusation in that one look was enough to momentarily stun her. Although she was having immense trouble seeing why Sian’s injury could possibly be her fault, it was a mere accident, and an involuntary accident at that.
The moment that Sian snatched the Beater’s bat off the passing Dennis Hicks, Kirsty knew that she was in for it. She was about to pay for whatever injustice Sian felt Kirsty had done unto her. It was just Kirsty’s luck that the second Bludger involved in the game then chose to come speeding along right behind Sian. Sian swung with what looked like all her might at the speeding black mass, and the bat connected with a dull clunk.
Tightening her sweaty hands around the broom handle and forcing her knees to grip with all their might onto the thin strip of polished wood beneath her, Kirsty put into practice the move that she and James had only ever theorised about. Putting all her faith in her trusty Nimbus, Kirsty leaned sideways. Hanging upside down from a broomstick was definitely up there as one of the most bizarre things she had ever experienced, but thankfully her ploy had worked, and the Bludger zoomed over the top of her whitening fingers.
Swinging back upright as quickly as possible, Kirsty only just managed to register Sirius’ exclamation of, “And the Gryffindor Seeker pulls off a superb Sloth Grip Roll!” before Emma’s resounding scream reverberated around the pitch.
Feeling slightly nauseated from her unorthodox tactic, Kirsty hastily whipped her head around and gasped, horror struck, at the reason for Emma’s shrill scream. Sian’s Bludger, having felt cheated by Kirsty’s avoidance, had sought another victim, which had unfortunately presented itself in the form of Sam North. Kirsty watched, repulsed, as the Bludger shot into the side of Sam’s head with a sickening crack. His eyes glossed over, giving him the appearance of someone who had just been Obliviated, and he slunk sideways off his broom and plummeted.
Kirsty shrieked, and she wasn’t the only one to do so. Acting on impulse, she forced her broom downwards and rushed towards the spot where Sam’s body had hit the ground; Kirsty was just thankful that it had not been too great a drop. Out of the corner of her eye, Kirsty saw another scarlet blur heading for the same destination and realised that James too had flown down to check on his Keeper and dorm mate.
Kirsty stumbled, having landed rather clumsily in her haste, and ran over to the figure that lay sprawled on the ground. James landed a few seconds after and also set off at a run as Professor McGonagall walked hurriedly on to the pitch, conjuring a stretcher out of thin air as she went.
Panting heavily as she reached Sam’s unconscious form, Kirsty was extremely relieved to see that no blood graced his features. James arrived next to her with a livid looking McGonagall in tow. “Extremely uncouth behaviour! Never seen anything like it!” she muttered under her breath as she levitated Sam onto the previously conjured stretcher.
“Will he be okay, Professor?” asked James, also panting heavily, as sweat glistened on his brow.
McGonagall, however, now seemingly intent on the job at hand, didn’t reply. Whether this was because she simply hadn’t heard him or just because she was deliberating her answer before she gave it, Kirsty couldn’t be sure.
In the silence that followed James’ question, Kirsty became aware of Sirius and Emma’s voices once more.
“Give me your shoe!” Emma’s shrill and booming voice requested.
“What?” asked Sirius, probably in the hope that he had misheard her.
“Your shoe,” Emma demanded again, more clearly.
“Why the hell do you want my shoe?”
“So that I can throw it at Sian!” exclaimed Emma in a tone that implied the answer’s obviousness.
“Throw your own shoe at her!”
“But yours is easier to take off…”
“Why is it?”
“Because mine has laces!” cried Emma impatiently.
“So does mine!”
“Look, just stop being a baby and give me your shoe-”
Undefined scuffling noises proceeded to dominate the microphone along with Sirius’ many protesting yells. A muffled thud then emanated from the pitch behind Kirsty, demonstrating that Emma had won the scuffle. But whether or not Sirius’ shoe had met its target was an entirely different matter.
“I can’t believe you just threw my shoe onto the pitch!” exclaimed Sirius.
“-after all, Madam Pomfrey has never failed us yet.” McGonagall’s voice interrupted Sirius’ indignant exclamations and Kirsty realised that she had been paying so much attention to the commentators that she had missed the beginning of McGonagall’s response.
“So he’s going to be okay?” asked Kirsty rather stupidly.
“Yes, I’d imagine so,” replied McGonagall with a raise of her eyebrows. “Now, Mr Potter, I think you’d better get back onto the pitch and start thinking of a way to protect your goalhoop from the opposition before they score again,” she added inclining her head skywards. Kirsty followed her gaze, as did James, to find that the Slytherin team were on the attack, as for reasons unknown Madam Hooch hadn’t seen fit to stop the course of play. But even as they watched, Michaela and Luke managed to thwart their plans and regain control of the Quaffle.
Kirsty heard James heave a sigh of relief, and McGonagall turned on her heel and started to lead Sam up to the castle.
But the relief was only momentary as from the Slytherin quarter of the crowd came a deafening roar of excitement. Kirsty whipped her head back around to survey the sky. Sian Morgan was rocketing down the far end of the pitch - she had seen the Snitch. Kirsty felt as if someone had dropped a brick into the pit of her stomach. A fleeting glance at James and his clenched jaw told her everything she needed to know. She had to do what she could to salvage the situation, and she had to do it now. She pelted over to her discarded broom, swung her leg over it and kicked off hurriedly from the ground.
All of the noise from the crowd was drowned out as Kirsty concentrated solely on willing her broom forward, praying that she could somehow manage to beat Sian to the Snitch.
But her prayers went unanswered as, from about forty feet in front of her, Sian’s fingers closed around the Snitch’s fluttering wings.
“Morgan catches the Snitch… Slytherin win…” Sirius’ shocked and disappointed voice pounded painfully in Kirsty’s eardrums.
They’d lost. She’d failed.
------------
James hovered motionless near the goalhoops, staring at the spot where his dreams of winning his first Quidditch match as Captain had all come crashing down around his ears, and raw disbelief flooded over him.
Was it his imagination or was the crowd a lot quieter than it usually was following the end of a Quidditch match? Only the Slytherins seemed to be cheering. The Slytherin team had taken it upon themselves to do a lap of honour in order to gloat about their win, but the rest of the crowd were silent. Was it because they all felt as stunned as he did by the result?
As the solid mass of emerald whipped past him on yet another lap of the pitch, James noticed a lone scarlet figure flying dejectedly to the ground. Upon landing, Kirsty made a weird jerking movement with the hand that was holding her broom. It seemed to James as if she had made to sling her broom to the ground but thought better of it. He couldn’t even imagine how she must be feeling right now. He looked up to see the rest of the team looking at him, awaiting further instructions. He signalled morosely for them to fly downwards. They landed to many jeers and catcalls from the Slytherins, and walked off the pitch, heads held high, only a couple of paces behind their solitary Seeker.
They changed in even deeper silence; James once again finding that he was unable to voice any words of encouragement.
Kirsty was ready first and stalked out without a word to any of them. James watched her go, but it was the scary look in her eye, rather than the morose look on her face, that made him hightail it out of the changing room after her. He had to run to keep up with her; she was storming off at an alarmingly fast rate. Even his many instructions of “Stop!” could not deter her from her path. And then the entrance to the Quidditch pitch came into view, with Sian Morgan and Lucinda Devlin stood gloatingly, still wearing their Quidditch robes, and James had a horrible feeling that it was towards them that Kirsty was heading.
It was then that he also noticed that Lily, Remus, Hayley and Peter were also approaching the pitch’s entrance from the side, along with Sirius and Emma, who were talking animatedly. James only hoped that the group would reach Sian and Lucinda before Kirsty got there and decided to do something stupid.
James saw Kirsty slow down; the arrival of their friends seemed to have appealed momentarily to her better judgment, and her steps became those of a tentative child. This moment of hesitation was all it took for the others to overtake her. Kirsty’s pace quickened again, so that she was soon to be enveloped in their throng of her friends. James noted that the others were not yet aware of either his or Kirsty’s presence on the pitch and prayed that, should Kirsty have yet another change of heart, they would be quick enough to stop her.
Not long after Kirsty was swallowed by the chattering group, they came to a stand-still in front of the two Slytherins. James had just put on another burst of speed, all the while a stitch making its presence known in his side, when he saw a lone figure emerge from the crowd and approach Sian. James supposed that he was asking a bit too much to hope that Kirsty had simply approached Sian to congratulate her on capturing the Snitch and winning the match.
He was so busy concentrating on catching up with his friends that it took James a few moments to realise that the figure’s hair was glittering brightly, more brightly than Kirsty’s had been in fact. He skidded to a halt behind them, accidentally splattering the back of Sirius’ robes with mud as he did so. James had to marvel at his timing as he arrived just a split second before the impact landed.
Emma’s punch sent Sian reeling. Shocked gasps punctuated the air, drawn from all those who were gathered around the pair. Sian’s yell was a mixture of shock and pain. Staggering upwards, she removed her hand from in front of her face to show an already swelling nose and reddening cheek.
“Bitch!” cursed Sian as Lucinda pointed her wand at Emma.
Unfortunately for the two Slytherin girls, Emma was heavily flanked and, seeing the danger, every one of her friends drew their wands too (except for James, who had left his in the changing room in his haste).
“Believe me,” snarled Emma, her voice shaking slightly. “You deserve a hell of a lot more!”
Before any of them even got the chance to make a move though, scurrying footsteps approached. James looked up, along with everybody else, to see Madam Hooch drawing towards the entrance. Sian’s yell must have caught her attention. “What on Earth is going on here?” she screeched. Her eyes sweeping quickly over the scene, taking in everything from Sian’s swollen nose, to the group’s raised wands, to James standing rather helplessly behind them all. For a few moments nobody answered her, but James thought he saw Lily give a jerk of her wand, and he wondered whether she had made to pocket it.
“Emma punched me, Professor,” announced Sian, sending a vindictive look Emma’s way.
“Is that true, Miss Bembridge?”
James weaved his way in-between Sirius and Remus in order to get a clearer view of the proceedings, and he was met by puzzled looks from the both of them. Clearly they were wondering how long he had been standing among them.
From his new vantage point, James could see Emma’s chest rapidly rising and falling. She looked as if she were trying her best to compose herself, and even though James couldn’t see her face, he guessed that she must be looking absolutely livid.
“No, Professor,” answered Emma politely. Sian scowled.
“And you all agree with Miss Bembridge’s claim, do you?” the Professor continued to query, addressing their group as a whole. There were many nods and general noises of affirmation, and Madam Hooch raised her eyebrows. She seemed to have expected as much. “And, you, Miss Devlin, do you agree with that?”
To James’ complete and utter surprise, Lucinda nodded.
“What?” screeched Sian, looking quite demented.
“Well then, could someone please enlighten me as to what actually happened?”
Before anyone had even had time to come up with a suitable response, Lily piped up, “Lucinda accidentally hit Sian in the face with her Beater’s bat.”
James and the others all spun their heads around and surveyed her, agog. Had Lily Evans, Head Girl and model student, just lied blatantly to a teacher?
“Is this true?” Madam Hooch asked, addressing Lucinda once again. She nodded, an oddly blank look present on her face.
“What? What the hell’s wrong with you? Why are you siding with them?” shrieked Sian.
“Detention, Miss Morgan.”
“I “ what?” asked Sian, surveying the Professor in utter disbelief.
“-For conspiring to get other students into trouble. Now if the pair of you would kindly follow me up to the school, we shall inform your Head of House of your disgraceful behaviour.”
As soon as the three figures disappeared, Emma swung back around to face the group, cradling her wrist. “God, that hurt!” she exclaimed with a wince.
Hayley ran forward to survey the injury. “Well, I don’t think it’s broken,” she proclaimed after having prodded and poked at it for a bit. “But I think you’d better go up to the Hospital Wing just to be safe.”
“Good idea,” agreed Emma as she made to go.
“Em!” Sirius yelled after her retreating back. Emma turned to survey him. “You were “ that was - bloody brilliant!”
Emma grinned broadly. “Yeah, it was a bit, wasn’t it?” She then waved with her uninjured hand and set off again.
“And you, Miss Evans-“ Peter began with a smile.
“-What a story!” continued Hayley admiringly.
Lily glowed. “Why thank you.”
“Never mind the story,” stated Remus with a knowing smile. “I think you should be congratulated on your superb Memory-Modifying Charm…”
“Her what?” asked Sirius.
“The Memory-Modifying Charm she performed on Lucinda,” replied Remus patiently. “I’m guessing that’s what it was,” he added to Lily. “Unless I’m mistaken?”
Lily smiled incredulously at him. “That’s the annoying thing about you, Remus Lupin, you are never mistaken.” Remus’ eyes danced with amusement.
“So that’s why she complied with your story? Because you modified her memory?” asked Peter, awestruck.
“That sounds about right,” replied Lily with a modest smile.
“Wow, Lily, you’re-“
“-Amazing,” James finished Sirius’ statement with an awed sigh, speaking for the first time.
Lily jumped along with the others, who had not yet realised that he was among them. Lily, blushing, looked over to him, and their eyes met. She seemed to be searching his face for something. Was she trying to see how much losing the match had affected him? But, for what must have been one of the first times in his seven years at Hogwarts, Lily didn’t retain his attention for long, for Kirsty, upon seeing him standing behind her, had given him a fleeting look of horror mixed with guilt before skirting around Remus and heading back towards the pitch. Worry for her building up inside him, he gave the group an apologetic look and exclaimed, “Duty calls!” before running after her. He just managed to catch Sirius’ yell of “Party in the common room!” as he ran past him.
“Kirst!” he hollered as she stormed off ahead of him.
“Get lost, James!”
“Oh, charming!”
“I mean it, leave me alone!”
Annoyed, James sped up. Realising that she wasn’t going to shake him off by relying on the distance between them, like the last time, Kirsty broke into a flat-out run, but James had already been gaining on her, and so was well within reach to stretch out his hand and grip her firmly on her forearm, bringing her to a halt. He then tried to spin her around to face him. She struggled to get free of his grip and started to try and run again. “Kirsty, stop!” he exclaimed in desperation.
“No!” she shrieked, wrenching free of his grip and running off ahead of him again. James cursed silently and followed once again.
It didn’t take long for him to grab hold of her for the second time, and taking no chances he spun her around, grabbed both of her arms and pinned them down by her sides. Knowing that the time had now come for him to comfort her, he offered lamely, “I don’t blame you in the slightest, you know.”
Kirsty, who was refusing to look at him, mumbled in response, “Well, I do. It’s my fault that we lost.”
“Don’t be thick.”
“But it’s true. If I hadn’t been so intent on checking on Sam, I would have been there to stop Sian-“
“For your information, I’m glad you went to check on Sam. In fact, I think I would have been disappointed in you if you hadn’t.“
“What a load of bollocks, James!”
“No it’s not! Why do you think I wanted you on my team?”
Kirsty shrugged. “No idea, but I’m betting that our close personal friendship had something to do with it.”
James was relieved to hear the trace of cheekiness in her voice. “No, if that were true, Sirius would be on the team.” From the look on Kirsty’s face, she seemed to agree with this statement. “You’re on the team because you’re not the best Seeker in the world, not by a long shot-“
“Oh thanks, James, way to go with the morale boost-“
“But you are one of my most favourite people in the world-“
“You must know some god-awful people then,” muttered Kirsty. James smiled.
“To be honest, I could probably scour the whole school and find a Seeker who would, technically, be considered better than you-“
“This is doing nothing to change my mind about resigning-“
“But “ you’re not resigning “ I couldn’t care less about them, because the only Seeker I want is you.”
“Why?” she asked in a small voice, giving James a sneaking suspicion that he was winning the argument.
“You want to know why?” pondered James teasingly. “Well, for a start there’s the fact that, apart from me, you were the only other player who wanted to make sure that Sam was going to be okay, showing that you care more for your team mates than the outcome of the match-“ Kirsty opened her mouth to argue, but James held up his hand to silence her. “And I love you for that. Although, I do have to admit that today I was more concerned about Sam than what would happen in the match during our absence too, though I can’t deny that Sian catching the Snitch wasn’t a major blow.”
“Tell me about it,” sighed Kirsty.
“Also you brighten up our Quidditch practices no end. You and Darren frolicking down the pitch in that thunderstorm singing ‘Singing in the Rain’ last year is still one of the funniest things I have ever seen.”
Kirsty laughed. “We threw our cloaks on top of our brooms so that they masqueraded as umbrellas.”
James laughed along with her at the memory. He was immensely pleased to see that he had managed to draw her out of her sombre state. “Plus, I have never met anyone who is as good as you at boosting people’s morale. You were magnificent today, by the way; I don’t know what I would have done without you. If you hadn’t given your little speech, then I think we may have lost by a greater margin than what we did-“
“I think that was more down to Emma than me,” replied Kirsty, sinking down onto the grass.
Since he was attached to her, James went down too, but only when he ascertained that she wasn’t going to run off again did he release her. “I think it was both of you. Which reminds me, I must remember to thank Emma later.”
“What for encouraging Sam, or punching Sian?”
“Both!” exclaimed James with a laugh. He studied her closely and then said in earnest, “You know, I thought for a minute that you were the one who was going to punch Sian.”
“Oh, I was,” affirmed Kirsty, “but Emma bloody well beat me to it!” James roared with laughter, and Kirsty raised her eyebrows at him.
“God, we really have had a bad influence on you girls!”
Kirsty had fallen silent. James was taking great care to calm himself down before addressing her again, but it was Kirsty who spoke first. “I’m really sorry that we lost, James.”
“So am I,” he replied truthfully. Kirsty looked up at him. “But, it’s not over yet. If we beat Hufflepuff by a large enough margin, we could still be in with a chance of winning the cup-“
“Yeah, that’s if I don’t cock it up again…”
“Again? So I gather that I’ve won you round?” asked James with a grin.
Kirsty seemed to be measuring her words. “Well, if you’re too stubborn to look for a new Seeker, I suppose I have no other choice than to stay put.”
“Good girl. And just so you know, even if you did cock it up again, there’s no one that I’d rather lose the cup with.” Kirsty smiled at him in amusement as he jumped up off the grass and brushed himself down, before offering her his hand to pull her up. “But, if you could at least try to catch the Snitch in the next match, I’d appreciate it.”
“Sure thing, Cappy!” she answered, standing alongside him and grinning inanely.
“Cappy?” asked James, wrinkling his nose with distaste.
“Yep,” replied Kirsty, her grin widening. “That’s the price for keeping me on as Seeker.”
“Where was it that you said I could find a new Seeker again?” asked James teasingly. Kirsty smacked him playfully on the arm. “Kidding!” he laughed. “Now what do you say we go and check on our Keeper?”
------------
Crouching down behind a suit of armour was definitely not one of the best ideas Emma had ever had. Shifting her position slightly in order to ease her lower back pain only resulted in the cramp in her leg becoming much more pronounced. Biting down against the pain, she reverted yet again to minimal movement in order to listen intently to the goings on within the Hospital Wing. James and Kirsty were still in there checking on Sam, and Emma was praying that they’d leave soon before she became crippled for life.
The only positive thing that factored in her present discomfort was that her wrist was no longer causing her pain. Having actually visited Madam Pomfrey straight away after she had left her friends, the nurse had declared her injury a sprain, fixed it instantaneously, and sent Emma on her way without as much as a prying question, but Emma didn’t leave, for she had spotted, in the bed in the far corner, the shadow of a seemingly unconscious figure being cast on the bed’s closed hangings. Knowing full well who the occupant of the bed must be, Emma’s curiosity started to get the better of her. Making up her mind that she simply had to see if he was all right, Emma turned on her heel and took a few tentative steps towards Sam’s bed. However, it was then that Emma heard the distant voices of Kirsty and James ascending the staircase. She stopped. She really couldn’t deal with the jibes that they were bound to make about seeing her with Sam. So, doing the only sensible thing, Emma darted out into the corridor, found the nearest suit of armour, jinxed it away from the wall and hid, panicking slightly, behind it.
Now she was wishing that she had just made her way back to the common room. Technically, she could go back there now, but she still had a compelling desire to go in and see Sam, and she wanted to do it alone. So, she kept her position and listened as Madam Pomfrey’s voice emanated from the open door.
“Really, there’s no reason for you to stay. I honestly don’t see him waking up any time soon.”
“But he’s going to be alright?” asked James, concerned.
“Oh, yes, he received a minor fracture to the skull, but I patched it up right away.”
Kirsty sighed with relief. “Good.”
Emma heard footsteps, and the figures of Kirsty and James appeared in the doorway.
“So, back to the common room now then?” queried Kirsty.
“Oh, I should think so. After all, Padfoot would be terribly upset if we missed his party.”
“Party?” quizzed Kirsty with a frown.
“He’s throwing an after-match party in the common room from what I can gather.” The two started to walk back towards the staircase together.
“But we lost!” exclaimed Kirsty.
“Do you really think that’d stop Padfoot from wanting to throw a raucous up-till-dawn party?”
That was the last that Emma heard of the conversation as the two disappeared up to the higher levels of the castle. She waited a few seconds to make doubly sure that they had indeed gone before standing upright. Aches, pains and pins and needles immediately coursed through her body, making her legs waiver slightly as she stepped out from behind the suit of armour. Walking swiftly across the Hospital Wing, Emma managed to reach the hangings around Sam’s bed before Madam Pomfrey’s voice announced from behind her, “Now really, there‘s absolutely no point in visiting an unconscious patient.”
“Please, can’t I just stay with him for a few minutes?” pleaded Emma.
The nurse’s stern look faltered, and she gave Emma a quick inclination of her head before retracing her steps back to her office.
Hesitantly, Emma drew back the hangings and stepped inside them, not bothering to close them again - she wasn’t planning on staying long.
And there he was, looking so peaceful despite his plummet from the sky. He looked slightly paler than usual, but Emma suspected that this was due to the previous pain of his head injury. Other than the slight graze upon his cheek and the dried mud that caked his exposed skin, he looked absolutely fine though. She breathed a sigh of relief. Then, not quite knowing what she was doing, she reached forward and brushed Sam’s overhanging red fringe out of his eyes. Her hand lingered above him for a moment before she lightly grazed her fingers, purposefully, across his forehead.
“Hmmm. Healing hands,” sighed Sam, shifting slightly and opening his eyes so that he was looking straight at Emma.
Emma shrieked and jumped backwards away from his bed. Sam watched her with amusement.
Her shriek had caught Madam Pomfrey’s attention, and she instantly came bustling over to find the source of the commotion. “Mr North? What the-? I mean… this is just so… unprecedented. I didn’t expect you to wake up for a good few hours yet.”
Emma looked up at Madam Pomfrey’s words. That’s odd, she thought, and she saw Sam raise his eyebrows slightly in her direction.
Madam Pomfrey then began bustling around him, checking that everything was as it should be. After a few minutes she declared, “Well, everything seems to be in order, but I’d like to keep you in overnight for observation.” Sounding rather dejected, the nurse returned once again to her office.
Sam chuckled softly. “It looks as if you could give her a run for her money.”
Emma smiled and inched closer to the bed. “How did you know it was me?” she asked.
“Excuse me?” Sam replied, perplexed.
“Well, you didn’t seem at all surprised when you opened your eyes to find me there.”
“Ah,” laughed Sam, “I could see the brightness of your hair even with my eyes closed.” Emma laughed too. She was surprised at how at ease she felt with him. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he enquired.
Emma flushed; she was immensely thankful that she still had her face paint on at that moment in time. “The team wanted me to come and check on you because they couldn’t make it,“ waffled Emma, lying blatantly. “And seeing as I had to come up here anyway-“
“Hang on, why did you need to come up to the Hospital Wing?” asked Sam suddenly, concern evident in his voice.
“I hurt my hand.”
“How?” he continued to press her.
“Oh, because I punched Sian-“
“What?” asked Sam, a grin spreading itself across his face. “Are you serious? What did you do that for?”
“Because of what she did to you…” Emma replied meekly, not daring to meet his eye.
Silence fell between them.
“Wow, Em, I-“ Sam stopped himself mid-sentence and sighed loudly. Seemingly searching for a change of subject, he then asked, “So, what happened with the match?”
“We lost,” answered Emma with a sigh.
“What? Why? What happened?”
“Well, Kirsty and James both flew down to make sure that you were going to be okay, and whilst they were down there, Sian made a play for the Snitch. Kirsty did all she could to try and beat her to it, but Sian had had too great a head start and caught the Snitch.”
Sam groaned loudly. “What was the score?”
Emma screwed up her face as she tried to remember. “I think Sirius said that it was one hundred and ninety to eighty.” Sam swore. “Sorry, Sam.”
“It’s not your fault,” he replied, smiling at her.
Another silence ensued.
“James and Kirsty were in here earlier,” stated Emma nonchalantly.
Sam raised his eyebrows and looked incredulously at her. “But I thought you said that none of the team could make it?”
Bugger, thought Emma as panic started to build up inside her. Feeling like a bag of nerves, she replied, stammering slightly, “Well they couldn’t come originally, but they changed their minds and decided to pop in…” she trailed off lamely.
“Emma, why are you really here?”
“I wanted to see for myself that you were going to be all right,” she blurted out.
The smile had vanished from Sam’s face, and Emma suddenly felt scared - had she said something wrong? He was looking at her intently, but his eyes gave nothing away.
“Not that I like you or anything,” she gabbled nervously, all the while staring at the ceiling. “I mean you’re not even that good looking “ and… and… you have stupid hair!” she finished with a flourish. She darted a look at Sam and saw that his brow was furrowed.
A few seconds elapsed before he spoke. “You don’t like me?”
Was it Emma’s imagination, or was there a disappointed air to his tone? “No!” she squeaked untruthfully.
“Because I was rather under the impression that you did.”
Emma’s heart thudded in her chest as she replied, “Well, that just goes to prove how egotistical you are then, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t pretend that I’m not disappointed to hear that,” continued Sam, ignoring her last statement. Emma snapped her head back around to face him. “I suppose I’ll just have to find another Gryffindor girl with so much compassion, sincerity, and grace that she makes Sian Morgan look like a mountain troll. A Gryffindor girl who is so drop dead gorgeous that I simply can’t believe she hasn’t been snapped up already.” Throughout this recital, Sam’s eyes never left hers.
Realisation dawned on Emma; at least, it seemed to. Was Sam saying what she thought he was saying? Was he telling her the very thing that she had wanted him to tell her ever since fifth year? She simply couldn’t believe her ears. She furiously blinked the tears out of her eyes. Please let it be true, she begged. She couldn’t have bared it if Sam suddenly took away the thread of hope he had just dangled teasingly in front of her.
“What?” she asked quietly finally finding her voice.
“Finally caught on, have you?” chuckled Sam.
“But-“
“But what?” he countered.
“I thought you didn’t like me.”
“On the contrary,” replied Sam as he pushed the bed covers off himself and came to sit down beside her. “I’ve liked you for quite some time, Miss Bembridge.”
He was unbelievably close; Emma could smell his aftershave and see every miniscule detail of his painted face. “Nice pyjamas.” she teased, looking down. Sam laughed. “They remind me of those ludicrous looking ones that James got for Christmas one year-“
“Emma, for once in your life, stop bloody waffling.”
And with that, Sam’s lips met hers.
Little zings of electricity shot throughout her entire body, and it felt as if someone had set off a round of fireworks in her stomach.
Sam’s hand found hers moments before he broke the kiss. She opened her eyes to meet his and saw that his face was alight with happiness. Sam indicated over the top of her head. “I think we have an audience.”
Emma turned around and saw Madam Pomfrey standing by the window in her office. “Oh, God,” laughed Emma as she turned to face him once again.
“So, how are we going to tackle the Gryffindor Gossips?” he asked her with a grin.
Emma laughed at the groups’ given nickname. “Oh, I think they deserve to be kept in the dark, at least for now. Let’s just think of it as our little secret.”
“Hmm, sounds like my idea of a plan,” he agreed, resting his forehead against hers, their Gryffindor coloured features clashing magnificently in the evening twilight.
Things Aren't Always Black and White by padfootsgirl1981
Chapter Notes: Here's part two of Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Enjoy!
Chapter Endnotes: *is sat grinning inanely* Sorry, I just simply love the end (sad I know when I wrote it, but I don't care :p!), Emma's got her man, yay! I'm interested, did anyone see that coming? Anyway, I hope I did it justice for you all, and that you enjoyed the Quidditch match. I have to say that this chapter is a personal favourite of mine for many reasons. Thanks again for reading, please take the time to review!