Fair and Foul
Chapter 14
Angelina returned to Hogwarts with more than she’d had when she left. There was, of course, the usual addition of Christmas presents as well as a few books on Occlumency from her father’s library. But her trunk held more than the standard items students packed, for deep in the recesses of her trunk, laying next to the gold box with the diamond necklace, was a small chest with a large lock, from which an angry boggart struggled to escape.
This brought the total number of boggarts that the members of D.A.G. (Despisers of Arrogant Gryffindors) had collected up to one, which meant they still needed to capture at least one more. Angelina shared this news with the other members of D.A.G. at dinner on the Sunday before the start of term.
“Great,” Snape said as he rose from the table. “I have to be off; I’ve not finished all my work yet.”
Angelina frowned and glanced up at Severus in confusion; he was usually the first to start his assignments. For a second she thought about trying to probe his thoughts, but decided against it when she remembered the dangers the book had warned of.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” she said, but Severus was already halfway across the room. She turned back to Emma who was still finishing off her pudding.
“Did you have a good rest of the holiday?” Emma asked, and after glancing around added in a lower voice. “You didn’t learn anything more about the Big Fungus?”
The Big Fungus was their code name for the Dark Lord, Moldywort.
“No nothing.”
“Oh.” Emma sighed, and pushed her plate away, rising to leave. “I was hoping something exciting would happen to you.”
“Well, something exciting did, although it had nothing to do with the Big Fungus,” Angelina confessed as they made their way out of the Great Hall.
“Oh, what?” Emma asked excitedly.
“Uh,” Angelina paused, casting her eyes down in embarrassment and scuffing her toes as she walked. “On Christmas night, shortly after I sent you the Chocolate Frog card “”
“Oh, thanks by the way.”
“Sure. What was I going to do with it anyway? But as I was saying, on that night just after I had sent Tabby to you, I got a package,” Angelina mumbled, looking furtively up through her lashes at Emma.
“Ooooh, what was it?”
“It was a diamond necklace, but that wasn’t the weird thing,” Angelina rushed on getting to the reason she had brought it up at all. “It wasn’t addressed”no sign of who sent it or anything.”
She left out the part about the “with love” note. It sounded too corny.
“Oh, you should be careful“it could be cursed. Really, Lena, it might strangle you when you wear it, or, or control you…or something.”
Angelina smiled; Emma was certainly catching on to how the Wizarding world worked.
“That’s what I thought originally too. But Twinkle looked over it”she is very skilled in that sort of thing”and she saw nothing. We even tested it on the Ghoul. It’s perfectly safe.”
Angelina turned to Emma to see if she was as mystified by this turn of events as Angelina was, but the girl was smiling maniacally instead.
“You’ve got a secret admirer,” Emma sang.
“I do not!” Angelina cried indignantly.
“Oh, you don’t do you? Why else would someone send an expensive diamond necklace to you?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I told you. Maybe it’s a prank,” Angelina mused, frowning in consternation.
“A prank? Where’s the punch line? No, it’s a secret admirer. I don’t know why you’re so opposed to the idea. It’s rather romantic. I wonder who it could be…You don’t suppose Snape?”
“Uh, you’re joking, right?”
“Well, you are really similar and all.”
Angelina gave her an incredulous look.
“He uses second-hand books.”
“Oh, alright. Maybe not. Still, no one else really even likes you.” Emma blushed, realizing how cruel her words could sound. “I don’t mean it like that.”
Angelina shrugged. “I don’t really care.”
They reached the common room door.
“How do Muggles fly?” asked the door.
Angelina frowned and glanced over at Emma. “Muggles fly?”
“They fly in airplanes,” Emma explained and the door swung open.
“Oh, there you are,” Jonathan Clearwater called as the two girls entered the room. They looked over at him in surprise, wondering what he could want.
“Hello, Jonathan,” Angelina greeted primly, as Jonathan strolled over half a pumpkin pasty still in his hands as he gazed at Angelina
“You should call me Jon, Angelina. I know I’ve said this a million times.”
“Alright. Hello, Jon,” Angelina repeated, feeling awkward.
He did not seem to feel the same; he beamed comically down at her as if she had just said something particularly witty.
“I just wanted to invite you, uh, and your friend,” here he paused slightly as if searching to remember Emma’s name, but obviously had no luck as he continued, “to the Ravenclaw/Gryffindor game this Sunday.”
“Uh, I’m not“” Angelina began, but was cut off by Emma.
“We’d love to go.” She beamed at the older Ravenclaw.
Angelina wanted to argue differently, but Emma had gripped her hand and was squeezing it hard.
“I play Keeper,” Jonathan shared proudly.
“That’s nice,” Angelina commented, forcing a smile after receiving two hard squeezes from Emma.
“We’ll see you there!” Emma called cheerfully over her shoulder as she dragged her mutinous friend up the stairs to the dormitory.
Jonathan Clearwater waved vaguely to the retreating girls, popping the rest of the sweet into his mouth.
Once inside, Emma turned around to face Angelina and squealed, “Oh! He’s your secret admirer.”
“Who? Jonathan?” Angelina’s face turned from angry to bemused. “He’s five years older.”
“One can’t govern the affairs of the heart. Look at my mum and Chuck. He’s at least 20 years older.”
“Oh, that’s foolish, and anyway who cares about love? It’s a silly emotion. One should be governed by the head, not the heart.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “I don’t feel up to arguing about this right now. Besides, I was going to make you go to the game on Sunday anyway”we haven’t gone to one yet. It’ll be fun.”
So that Sunday, Emma dragged Angelina down to the Great Hall much earlier than Angelina would have otherwise gone. Emma had also insisted upon making a sign which read “Ravenclaw: soaring to great heights.”
Angelina took a seat at the edge of the table, hoping to avoid contact with Jonathan Clearwater as the Ravenclaw team was still eating breakfast. She had just taken her first sip of tea when someone approached from behind.
“Angelina.”
She tensed as she heard the all too familiar voice.
“What do you want, Black?”
“Just wanted to see how your holidays went. I enjoyed the present the two of you sent Potter and me by the way. My house-elf had to keep his hands bandaged for a week.”
“What!” Emma cried. “That was supposed to be for you.”
Black smirked, “Glad to hear you both care so much about my health, but unfortunately Kreacher is in charge of checking packages for dangerous contents. Trust me, compared to that shrinking hat that the Muggle-born activists sent Dad a couple of years back, the bubotuber puss was positively nothing.”
Emma still looked like she wanted to cry.
“Don’t worry,” Black appeased. “It barely hurt him. Kreacher was more upset that he had failed to detect it than anything.”
“So it didn’t hurt you at all?” Emma whined.
Black laughed. “Oh, don’t worry that your hard work went for nothing. James wasn’t so fortunate. People don’t hate his parents. No, it got all over his hands. He hasn’t stopped moaning,” he said, sliding onto the bench next to Emma and across from Angelina. He grabbed a plate and started spooning eggs onto his plate.
“You’re not eating here,” Anglina squeaked in surprise.
“I am. Here you go,” he said as he piled a second plate with food and placed it in front of Angelina. “You should eat something. It’s the most important meal of the day, you know.”
“And you know that I hate breakfast.”
“I know, but a little fruit wouldn’t hurt and maybe a scone. Come on, I didn’t even give you any eggs.”
“Why don’t you go sit with Potter and try to get him to eat. Leave me alone,” Angelina commanded.
“James doesn’t need me to feed him. “Arbutum Leviosa,” Black said pointing his wand a Angelina’s orange sections and levitating one up to float by her mouth, until she grabbed it in irritation from the air.
“Besides,” he continued. “He and Pettigrew are…sleeping.”
A second orange wedge was rising, Angelina snatched it from the air and barked, “I’m quiet capable of feeding myself, Black.”
“I’m not doubting your capability, Angelina.”
Scowling, Angelina twitched her wand and whispered “Leviosa,” flicking some eggs off Black’s plate and onto his lap. Whether this would have deteriorated into a food fight remains a mystery, for Jonathan Clearwater chose that moment to materialize at Angelina’s side.
He was beaming down at her.
“I’m glad you came,” he smiled at her.
“Uh, yeah,” Angelina responded feeling awkward once again, and trailed off into silence before receiving a harsh kick from underneath the table. She glanced in confusion at Emma who was staring at her with an odd intensity and not blinking. Shrugging, Angelina was about to turn back to her scone but noticed Jonathan was still standing next to her looking oddly dazed.
“Well, uh, good luck. Hope you win.”
“Thanks, Angelina, I’ll see you after the game,” he called as he and the rest of the team exited the Great Hall.
“What’s wrong with that bloke?” Black asked as he picked up a piece of bacon and started munching on it.
Emma giggled. “He invited Lena to the Quidditch match.”
“As I take it, anyone can go to the matches; it’s hardly an invites-only sort of thing.”
“Whatever, maybe it’ll be fun. Emma keeps promising me I’ll love it.”
“What! You’re going to the game?” Black said incredulously.
“Yes,” Angelina shot back.
“But you hate Quidditch.”
“She’s had a change of heart,” Emma defended.
Black was scowling heavily.
“Really?” he said, looking to Angelina for conformation.
“Yep,” Emma interrupted cheerfully. “Angelina has become very interested in the game, or more precisely, a certain Keeper.”
“Emma”that is ridiculous,” Angelina spluttered.
“Alright. Maybe a certain Keeper has become interested in you.”
“That’s preposterous,” Angelina argued, turning red.
Suddenly, Black stood, pushing the bench violently back and walked away as the two Ravenclaw girls argued about Angelina’s feelings or lack of feelings towards the game of Quidditch and the Ravenclaw Keeper.
Angelina was not speaking to Emma as they made their way down to the stadium.
“Oh, come on Lena. I was only teasing. Don’t be such a Pettigrew.”
“Speaking of Pettigrew, where do you think he and Potter were this morning?”
“Didn’t Black say they were in their dormitory?”
“Even if he did, doesn’t mean it’s true. I think they must have been up to something and Black was there to make sure we stayed in the Great Hall.
“Oh, Lena, you are so paranoid. You’re getting worse than Snape.”
“What’s wrong with Severus?”
“Nothing . . . besides always thinking Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin are always up to something.”
“They usually are.”
“Well, the other day, Severus purposed that Lupin was a werewolf.”
But before they could discuss the lunacy of this theory, they entered the crowded stadium and spent the next few minutes fighting for two empty seats. Winded and panting slightly, Angelina and Emma finally collapsed into their seats seconds before Abe Aclebe, dressed in referee robes, flew out onto the pitch and started the game.
Angelina tried to pick up the subject again, but Emma hushed her quiet.
Quidditch was even more boring than Angelina had expected and pretty soon she was praying for the end. However, halfway through, Angelina got all the excitement she could have possibly wanted.
When it happened, Ravenclaw was down 0-50, which was a pretty respectable score for Ravenclaw. The Quaffle was on the Ravenclaw side of the pitch in Gryffindor possession, and as the Quaffle soared into the goal, the afternoon sky burst into color. Fantastic fireworks exploded everywhere as the commentator’s voice, which had been a dry monotonous drone of the events of the match, started shouting in excitement.
“It appears some Gryffindor pranksters have decided to let off some steam! And what better way to celebrate their teams triumphant thrashing of the Ravenclaw team than a burst of House colors,” The commentator cried, his voice brimming with poorly suppressed mirth. “And what is this?”
The stadium had become transfixed on the fireworks display; even the players were craning their necks to look above them. Another explosion issued out two burning bright figures, a weak eagle pursued by a gigantic lion streamed across the pitch, ending in an explosion of red and gold sparks as the lion swallowed the eagle. Upon the explosion, a song burst forth from an unidentified source that was impossible to pinpoint as it was soon taken up by the entire Gryffindor section.
Eagles may be meant to soar,
But lions are meant to score,
With our brave thunderous roar
We’ll send eagles flying for the door.
We Gryffindors are strong and brave,
And with ease the Quaffle we do save,
Poor Clearwater is a nice bloke,
But as a Keeper he is a joke.
He is really awful
At saving the Quaffle.
The announcer, clearly a Gryffindor supporter, soon had the whole stadium singing along.
The match continued but the fireworks did not stop. And the match was punctuated with more rude songs, many of which particularly picked on Jonathan Clearwater.
It was after a particularly nasty verse”involving the words Jonathan, pass, and a certain part of the human anatomy”that Emma leaned over to Angelina and hissed, “We’ve got to do something.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Angelina said. “Abe would have me in detention for the rest of my life. I just finished serving my last of them.”
It was true. Abe Aclebe, who was looking thoroughly put out, had been casting dirty glances at Angelina since the display had begun and she knew he was trying to blame her for it. But even that would be a little too much for Abe, as it was her house the fireworks were bashing.
“Come on, Lena. Please. You know it’s the ABOG’s,” Emma pleaded referring to the Annoying Boys of Gryffindor.
“Alright, but it better be worth it.”
Thus Angelina and Emma made their way down underneath the stands hoping to at least put an end to the fireworks.
Angelina had a sinking suspicion that she knew who was behind the prank, and if she was right (as she usually was) this would mean she and Emma would be out numbered one to two. Thus, as they entered the wooden passageways running under the seats, Angelina pulled out her wand and held it at the ready. Emma followed suit, and the two girls proceeded through the skeleton of the stands.
It did not take them long to locate the source of the fireworks, and as Angelina had expected, there stood four boys: Black, Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew. The boys did not immediately notice them as they were preparing the next set of fireworks. Angelina and Emma waited, looking for the right opportunity. Silently, the two girls crept forward to listen to the boys’ conversation.
“The prat,” Black was ranting. “Can you believe it? He’s twice her age.”
“Come off it, Sirius. He just asked her to the game. He’s not even sitting with her. And with these fireworks, I hardly think he is impressing her. I mean . . .”
“I don’t think you-”
But before Black could say more Pettigrew was hollering “Expelliarmus!”
The girls had been spotted. Angelina, caught off guard, just barely managed to block it as she and Emma dodged behind a post.
“It’s them!” Pettigrew cried, as the three other boys drew their wands.
“Just Angelina and Hope?” Black asked. “Or is Snivellous with them too?”
“Snivellous doesn’t like Quidditch. I doubt he’d come,” Potter speculated, as the three boys edged closer to their opponents.
They were almost on them, Angelina thought. Glancing at Emma, Angelina nodded. Simultaneously they darted out from behind their post. Angelina shouted ”Petrify!” as she fired curses at Black and Lupin. She didn’t know what Emma was up to until Lupin fell, hit by the full Body-Bind that Pettigrew had deflected.
However, Angelina and Emma quickly had to go on the defensive, coming back together to position their backs to the post. Angelina concocted a bubble around them, blocking the curses raining down on them.
“You fire. I’ll hold,” Angelina shouted to Emma, concentrating hard on retaining the spell.
Potter was the next to fall. Hungry for the kill, he had ventured too close. Black and Pettigrew, separated by the mound of fireworks, had started to backup, hoping to get back together.
Angelina knew that once they did join forces, they too could form a protective barrier”resulting in a stalemate.
“We can’t let them meet,” Angelina cried.
“You take Black. I’ll take Pettigrew.”
And with that, Angelina dropped the shield and sprinted towards Black. She felt a spell zoom over her head, sent by Pettigrew, but soon he was pelting off down the rickety corridor with Emma in hot pursuit.
“I guess it’s just you and me, Angelina.”
“Save your breath Black.”
“As you wish.”
He fired a spell. Angelina threw up a shield.
“Can’t get me, can you, Black?”
“Nope, but you know what I can do,” Black smirked, his eyes sparkling with devious delight. In horror Angelina lifted her wand to stop him, but Black had already turned his wand from her to the fireworks. They exploded with a bang.
Angelina barely had time to throw a shield charm around herself and Black before she felt herself thrown back as the wooden structure around her shattered apart, sending both she and Black tumbling in a cloud of smoke and wood out onto the pitch. Above, the fireworks were banging as the crowd yelled, and the commentator’s voice boomed: “And Gryffindor catches the snitch! A Gryffindor vic”what is this?”
The crown turned its shocked eyes to the mound of debris, which had once been a stadium support pillar, and from which two first year students were now picking themselves up.
Angelina, scratched, bruised, and coated in soot, struggled out from under the planks of wood to come nose to nose with the red face of Abe Aclebee, whose eyes looked like they were about to burst from their sockets.