In spite of Luke’s absence and Gordon’s concerns over his place as a reserve, the Quidditch practice that followed turned out to be a breath of fresh air after hours stuck doing homework with Percy. In fact, it might have been the practices that seemed to make things go a little easier over the next couple of weeks. The Quidditch team were all optimistic about winning the cup this year, Gordon and Percy received full marks for their Transfiguration essay (and had even managed to convince Professor McGonagall of Gordon’s participation), and there had been no sign of Filch whatsoever.
In fact, as the days counted down to Halloween, and the Great Hall’s decorations changed appropriately, Gordon had a nasty suspicion that this last blessing had more serious implications. In his first-year, Gordon didn’t recall Filch as having taken a single day off, and yet this year he had been almost completely absent. No one seemed to have seen him at all.
‘Maybe you did him an injury,’ offered a grinning Luke, as the pair of them chatted about it in Herbology, while collecting nectar from the large Mertovian Minderslall flowers at the end of Greenhouse three. ‘It would serve him right, too.’
Gordon chuckled rather nervously, pulling on one of the anthers of the flowers and sending a gush of deliciously sweet smelling nectar into the bowl in front of him. Yet the thought that he had managed to hospitalise Filch, and that the worst was yet to come, was one he was taking rather more seriously than he liked to admit.
‘Where do you think he’s gone?’ asked Gordon, pouring his bowl of thick bright-red nectar into a bucket by his feet. ‘He’s been off for weeks now, do you think he’s coming back?’
‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up,’ said Luke, still smiling. ‘Though it might be possible of course, although Dumbledore would probably have said something about him leaving, unless…’
Luke broke off from what he was saying and began staring into space, allowing the nectar from the flower he was holding to miss his bowl completely, and flood over his shoes.
‘What?’ said Gordon.
‘Well,’ began Luke quietly, as he moved his bowl back under the stream of nectar. ‘This is just a thought, but what if Dumbledore had found out what happened?’
‘That’s not a thought I’d like to dwell on, if you don’t mind,’ replied Gordon nervously, replacing his bowl under the flow of nectar.
‘Yeah, but what if he fired Filch?’
It was Gordon’s turn to stare into space.
‘Fire him?’ he said eventually, surprised the thought hadn’t occurred to him sooner.
‘Well, it’s a possibility, isn’t it? Or what if Filch resigned? Maybe you were the last straw for him, Giz!’
Gordon thought about that for several more minutes without saying a word. Maybe Filch had been fired. It would certainly explain why they hadn’t seen anything of him, but why had no one asked him about it? Surely they would have needed to at least listen to what he said. Unless Filch resigned…
‘I think we have enough there, second-years,’ said Professor Sprout jovially. ‘Put your buckets in the centre of the table, and we’ll go through the properties of Minderslall nectar.’
Gordon picked up his bucket and pushed it to the centre of the table. Soon everyone had done this, though Luke seemed to take longer than anyone else while he fiddled with his.
‘Now, who can tell me what Minderslall nectar’s primary function is?’
Veronica, Percy and Alana’s hands immediately shot up into the air.
‘Miss Thistlethwaite?’
‘Minderslall nectar is mainly used in medicine for healing wounds,’ answered Alana. ‘It also has anaesthetic properties.’
‘Very good,’ said Professor Sprout. ‘But what problems does this mean we have with using Minderslall nectar?’
‘In large doses,’ continued Alana, ‘It can also be a powerful sedative.’
‘Indeed,’ nodded Professor Sprout. ‘The Minderslall has been used in centuries past as a form of poison because of this. While it may not be as potent as many other poisons, the healing effects of the nectar mean that it is extremely difficult to detect Minderslall poisoning. Unless taken in large quantities, the unfortunate recipient may well wake up feeling better than they did before. This has, however, given it another function. Anyone?’
The same three hands went back up into the air.
‘Miss Haremia?’
‘The Minderslalls anaesthetic properties mean it has also been used in the past as a…um…’
‘…intoxicant, yes,’ said Professor Sprout, rather more coldly than usual. ‘Unfortunately the nectar’s healing nature means this is rather ill-advised. Continuous use of it leaves the body dependant upon it to heal itself, and has meant that many Minderslall users have died from what seemed like innocuous cuts.’
Several of the students seemed to shuffle uncomfortably at this, and Gordon had to admit that the idea of bleeding to death from a pinprick didn’t sound particularly appealing. After that, the sweet smell of the nectar didn’t seem quite so seductive.
‘Good,’ said Professor Sprout. ‘I’ll give five points to Gryffindor for your answers, girls. Class dismissed.’
The class filed out of the greenhouse rather more quietly than it usually did, with Luke and Gordon bringing up the rear.
‘Why would anyone want to take something that does that to you?’ said Gordon. ‘It’s crazy.’
‘Well,’ began Luke, ‘that’s not to say it’s not useful, or else they wouldn’t of had us collect it. I’ll admit the idea of dying from something like that doesn’t sound appealing, but on the other hand, having it seal a life threatening wound rather does.’
‘Well, I suppose,’ said Gordon, though he was still having trouble getting the image out of his mind.
‘It’s got its uses with potions, too, I think,’ continued Luke.
‘Professor Sprout didn’t say anything about that,’ said Gordon, wondering just how pleasant a potion Luke was talking about, ‘and I’m pretty sure I haven’t smelled Minderslall nectar in Snape’s classes before.’
‘You’re right, you haven’t,’ said Luke, as they headed up the main staircase to Gryffindor tower. ‘Even that new book I got out from the Library from Snape only mentioned it briefly.’
‘So what sort of potion are you talking about? A bleeding-to-death brew?’
‘Lovely,’ said Luke coldly. ‘But it’s not actually…well, I suppose you could say it’s a potion…in a sense.’
‘Meaning?’ asked Gordon, who was having trouble following what his friend meant.
‘Well, some of the more advanced potions in the book have foundations written in their instructions. Only a couple of potions use them, but I’m guessing they’re really powerful ones. I think they’re mean to absorb stuff out of the potion you’re making, or something like that. I need to go to the library and do some more reading on it before I try it out.’
‘Try it out? You didn’t…’ spluttered Gordon, but he quickly realised that Luke had.
‘Well, Snape isn’t going to give any to me, is he?’ said Luke, smiling and clinking what sounded like several full vials of Minderslall nectar in his pocket. Gordon groaned.
‘You know that stuff’s probably illegal,’ he said quietly.
‘How many times do you need to be told? It’s a medicine!’ sighed Luke.
‘It’s still probably illegal,’ said Gordon, as they reached the Gryffindor Common room. ‘Lunar Volaris.’
‘Well, yes, it might be illegal,’ said Luke, as they climbed though the portrait hole, ‘but you’re not going to tell anyone, and neither am I, so forget about it. Are you ready for the game tomorrow? Not feeling nervous?’
Gordon shook his head in disbelief as the recklessness of his friend, but decided it would be best to just leave the subject well alone.
‘A little bit, though I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ll be playing, after all.’
‘What a positive mental attitude you have,’ said Luke dryly.
‘Well, I’m the reserve, aren’t I? It’s Oliver you need to worry about; he’s the one who’s playing.’
Luke let out a sigh.
*
By the next morning however, Gordon was feeling rather more nervous. Charlie had got the team sitting together at breakfast to try and invoke some team spirit, and in spite of everyone’s excitement at practices, most of them looked as nervous as Gordon felt.
This team bonding session seemed to be fairly pointless, given that Charlie was refusing to discuss tactics in any way in case someone from Ravenclaw might be listening in. Eventually, it was time to head down to the dressing rooms.
‘All right, team,’ said Charlie brightly, ‘Ravenclaw are the holders, so while this game might be our first, we should be looking at it like it’s the final.’
Gordon was wondering if these were quite the right words to use on a team containing two new players, but Charlie continued.
‘Ravenclaw won last year because they had the best defence in the school, but this year they’re going to be without Leechwood or Ven Hesseleine; so their team isn’t nearly as strong this time around.’
‘And we’ve got ourselves a keeper to rival Leechwood,’ said Emily, causing Oliver to blush.
‘You won’t find me arguing with you there,’ said Charlie with a grin, ‘and none of the Ravenclaw chasers have got anything on your brother, Oliver, so this should be easy going compared to what you’re used to.’
Gordon thought Oliver was going to disagree with this for a moment, but said nothing, and Charlie continued.
‘The only thing we really have to worry about is their passing. Amott’s had the same chaser line-up for three years now, so they’ve plenty of experience playing together. Emily and Rickson, I want you two you concentrate on breaking up that line when they get the Quaffle. Alyson, you’ll need to cut back as well, try and force one of them out wide. Leia will wait for the counter attack. Michael, you keep your eye on O’Tule. Ven Hesseleine might have been the better of their two beaters last year, but she’s no mug either, so don’t let her influence the game too much.’
Michael twirled his bat in his hand and nodded.
‘Right then! We have a Quidditch Cup to win!’ said Charlie. ‘And believe me, with our team we’ve practically won the cup already!’
The team stood up, looking considerably more roused for the game than they had done at the breakfast table, and began walking out onto the pitch. Gordon, feeling slightly upset that he had not been included in the game plan, followed them out.
The stadium erupted into cheers as the Gryffindors made their way out onto the field, and one by one shot up into the air. Feeling elated at being cheered on by what seemed like half the school, Gordon was about to fly up to join them, when Madam Hooch came over.
‘Ah! I see you made Gryffindor reserve, Mr Owen. Congratulations!’ she said, with a rather warming smile.
‘Thanks!’ said Gordon, who was feeling increasingly like a member of the team under the cheering of the stands. ‘Can I fly up with them?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Madam Hooch. ‘You’re not allowed more than seven people per team airborne at a time, not even before kick off. You’ll need to sit yourself down here.’
She indicated to a small wooden bench by the changing room doors, which Gordon recognised as being the one Bill had been sat on last year. Reluctantly, Gordon sat down, as the Ravenclaws began pouring out of their changing rooms to more applause and cheers.
‘Welcome to the first match of the Quidditch season!’ boomed the commentator’s voice from directly above Gordon, making him jump considerably. ‘Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw!’
Gordon watched the Ravenclaws take to the air, while the Ravenclaw captain Amott and Charlie met in the middle, next to Madam Hooch.
‘This match features the two favourite teams for the Quidditch Cup this year,’ continued the commentator, ‘and it is likely that the winner today may well be the team who end up holding the trophy at the end of the year!’
Gordon watched Madam Hooch talk to both captains, and then blow her whistle.
‘And they’re off!’ said the commentator, barely audible over the cheers. ‘Amott takes the Quaffle! He passes it inside to Roberts…nice turn by Roberts to avoid Ridgebit…she passes it out to…no! Excellent feint by Roberts…she shoots…great save by Wood!’
Oliver pulled off a fantastic first save to deny the Ravenclaw chaser, and the Gryffindor stands burst into cheers. Without thinking, Gordon found himself on his feet applauding.
‘A great save by Oliver Wood, the brother of Gryffindor’s ex-captain Calumn, who left last year. Wood passes it out to Sturrock…Sturrock bursts down the left hand side…flicks it inside to Maplefair…Maplefair shoots! GRYFFINDOR SCORE!’
Gordon could hear the Gryffindor stands going wild, and clapped along with them until his hands were sore.
‘Maplefair puts one past the new Ravenclaw keeper Dale Crover…Now he passes it out it Marrowhite…takes it forward…looks to pass to Amott…Great interception by R…oh, she drops it…but Sturrock picks it up and Gryffindor are back on the attack…Sturrock comes forward…dodges a bludger from O’Tule…Sturrock shoots! GRYFFINDOR SCORE!’
As the stands burst into cheers again, Gordon rocked back and forth on his bench in delight. For a second he almost turned to his side to talk to Oliver about it, before realising that he was playing.
‘Crover puts it out again…Amott picks up…passes to Marrowhite…who puts it back to Amott…who throws it out wide to Roberts, who’s being closely marked by Ridgebit…but Roberts gets it back in to Amott…Amott shoots…O’Tule releases a bludger! Wood s…oh dear!’
The Ravenclaw beater fired a bludger over Amott’s shoulder as he shot, sending both hurtling towards Oliver. Flinging himself over to save the shot, Oliver palmed it away, only to be hit square in the temple by the bludger, knocking him clean off his broom.
Gordon was about to shout for someone to catch Oliver, but as he opened his mouth Oliver’s fall began to slow down. Something was stopping him from falling, something coming from the box above Gordon’s head. The staff box.
‘Wood takes a very nasty looking bludger to the head!’ gasped the commentator, as Oliver’s limp body glided to the ground. ‘That’s one of the worst hits I’ve seen!’
Sure enough, no sooner had Oliver reached the ground, than the entire Gryffindor team had flown down to him, and Gordon ran over to him.
By the time Gordon reached the Gryffindor hoops, Oliver was being examined by Charlie and Madam Hooch. His eyes were shut, and he wasn’t moving.
‘Is he okay?’ exclaimed Gordon to Emily, as Madam Hooch began casting some form of incantation on Oliver.
‘I…I don’t know,’ said Emily, who seemed quite shaken. ‘I think he’s just been knocked out…but…well…I guess Madam Pomfrey will take care of him.’
As she spoke, Professor McGonagall came running over to them, and started speaking with Madam Hooch and examining Oliver herself. Within moments she had conjured up a stretcher, and Madam Hooch and Charlie had lifted Oliver onto it, and Professor McGonagall was levitating it off to the hospital wing.
‘I think we need to call a time out,’ said Charlie resignedly to Madam Hooch, ‘and we’ll bring on Gordon for Oliver.’
Madam Hooch nodded and flew back up into the air to reprimand the Ravenclaw beater. Charlie pulled everyone together, and began talking animatedly.
‘Okay. We might have lost Oliver “’
‘Is he going to be okay?’ blurted out Gordon, who was presently more interested in his friend’s health than the game.
‘He’ll be fine,’ said Charlie bitterly, ‘which is more than can be said for you, Michael! Where the hell were you? I told you keep your eye on O’Tule!’
‘Well, I thought…’ began Michael, who seemed rather taken aback by this less-than-friendly version of Charlie.
‘Keep your eye on her constantly!’ said Charlie frantically. ‘Now, look, guys, we might have lost Oliver, and I know that’s not ideal, but this isn’t a repeat of last year. This year we’ll be playing with a full compliment, and that’s still more than enough to beat these lot. Gordon…I know you’re a chaser, but have you ever played as keeper before?’
‘No,’ said Gordon truthfully. ‘I’ve always played with Oliver.’
‘Right…right…’ said Charlie resignedly, before looking at each member of the team in turn. ‘Okay. I’ll take over as keeper. Leia, you “’
‘You’re not going to go keeper!’ said Emily, looking outraged. ‘You’re our best seeker! How are we supposed to win the game without you?’
‘Well, someone’s got to do it!’ said Charlie, looking increasingly frustrated. ‘Neither of you have played there, and we can’t afford to sacrifice Rickson or Michael “’
‘I’ll play keeper,’ said Alyson simply. Charlie looked around at her as if he had never seen her before.
‘Er…look, Alyson,’ began Charlie. ‘You’re not exactly the…er…mould for keeper “’
‘Well, I’ve done it before,’ replied Alyson. ‘I’d rather play chaser, but I can give it a go.’
‘Er…’
‘Go on, Charlie,’ said Emily, ‘our best hope lies in you getting the snitch.’
‘Well, yeah. I suppose so,’ said Charlie, though he looked less than enthusiastic about the idea. ‘All right, Alyson, you go keeper. Gordon, take over from Alyson. Don’t stray too far forward and try to keep Roberts out wide.’
‘Er…right,’ said Gordon, who was beginning to feel that finding his way onto the team might not have been such a bright idea after all. The team put their heads together once more, and they flew back up into the air.
In fact, as Gordon left the ground, and the Gryffindor stand erupted into cheers, he felt his stomach do some very uncomfortable somersaults. At first he tried to look for Luke and Kyle in the stands, but thinking about what Oliver would have said, quickly span back round to face the Quaffle.
‘It looks like Gryffindor are ready to resume! Oliver Wood will take no more part in the game, so Gryffindor have brought on new reserve chaser Gordon Owen. Alyson Ridgebit, the third new addition to the Gryffindor team, moves in as keeper. Gryffindor have a penalty, which will be taken by Emily Sturrock…and she puts it past Crover! GRYFFINDOR SCORE!’
Gordon grinned, and his stomach seemed to settle a little. This was it…he was in at the deep end, but here was as good a place to start as anywhere.
‘The score is now Gryffindor 30 Ravenclaw 0, Crover puts the Quaffle back out to Amott…he comes forward…nice bludger from Rickson forces him off course…he passes back to Marrowhite…Sturrock makes the interception…she passes it forward to Owen…Owen makes the simple pass to Maplefield…she dodges the bludger from Linson…Maplefield shoots! Just wide!’
Gordon watched the Quaffle soar agonizingly past the third hoop. Now Amott had picked it up and…
‘Gordon! Keep your eye on Roberts!’ shouted Emily from the other side of the pitch, and Gordon immediately saw Roberts shoot past him as Amott hurled a long pass…
‘…to Roberts…Owen’s rising for the interception…will he get there…no! Misses by inches and Roberts takes it up in acres of space! Roberts comes forward…shoots! RAVENCLAW SCORE!’
Gordon cursed openly, and immediately shot further back the pitch to where he would be able to keep an eye on the Ravenclaw chasers. He shot a quick glance over to Emily, but she had her eyes on the Quaffle as…
‘…Ridgebit puts it out to Sturrock…she passes it sideways to Owen…throws it back to Sturrock…Sturrock comes forward…cuts inside…looks for Maplefair…Amott Intercepts! All three Ravenclaw chasers are on the attack now…Amott dodges a bludger from Rickson…’
As Amott came storming forward, Gordon bolted from his position at him. Gordon knew Amott would have to make the pass, but if he could get there quick enough he might just be able to put him off…
‘Amott reverse passes it to Marrowhite! Marrowhite is through on goal with Roberts in support…Marrowhite passes to the far post…Roberts takes it first time…RAVENCLAW SCORE!’
For the next twenty minutes Ravenclaw continued to dominate, and Gordon found himself hoping that either seeker would catch the snitch just so he could get off the pitch. Granted, he had managed to set up Leia several times and she had scored three of them, but Gordon had never really practiced marking anyone before, and Roberts was a far better flier than he was. Gordon tried to remind himself that it was his first game, and that all three Ravenclaw chasers had won the cup last year, but it didn’t make him feel any better. It was also evident that Alyson was not a born keeper, as she was letting in more shots than she was saving.
‘As Ridgebit passes the Quaffle out to Owen, the scores stand at Gryffindor 70 Ravenclaw 180…Owen passes it long over to Maplefair…she comes forward with Sturrock in support…’
Still, Gordon thought that things could be worse. Witherfall was never going to beat a fit Charlie to the snitch, and they were holding out. Though the situation was deteriorating, if Charlie hurried up, they could still win it.
‘…Maplefair shoots! Crover saves! Marrowhite picks up the Quaffle and delivers it straight up to Amott…Owen on the intercept…Whoa! Almost takes a bludger from his own beater! Amott’s clean through and shoots! RAVENCLAW SCORE!’
On the other hand, thought Gordon, if this kept up maybe Charlie really was running out of time. Michael Oldfield seem to be getting worse with every second that went by, and was spraying his bludgers around seemingly at random. Rickson seemed to have taken over from him for watching O’Tule, which Gordon was quite grateful for. On several occasions he saw a bludger come flying at him only for Rickson to beat it away. Yet Michael had…
‘It looks like Weasley has seen the snitch!’ boomed the commentator. ‘Witherfall is in pursuit.’
Gordon looked up and saw Charlie dive at the other end of the pitch, and both Ravenclaw beaters swooped around to take a shot at him. At that moment Emily flung the Quaffle over to him, and with a rush of blood to the head, Gordon shot forward straight at O’Tule.
‘Weasley’s reaching out…but O’Tule lines up a shot with a bl…Whoa!’
Gordon shot past O’Tule causing her to miss her bludger completely in surprise, but then to his surprise…
‘…and Owen is one on one with Crover! Owen comes forward…’
Sod it, thought Gordon. The far hoop as hard as I bloody well can…
‘…Owen shoots! GRYFFINDOR SCORE! …and Weasley’s reaching out for the snitch…he’s got it! GRYFFINDOR WIN!’
As Gordon watched the Quaffle tumble to the ground behind the hoops, and heard the crowd screaming applause, he could have sworn it was all for him. Perched on his broom surrounded by a cheering school, he felt this was about the happiest he had ever felt in his life.
*
By the time they had got back to the common room however, it seemed most of the Gryffindors felt that Charlie was the one most deserving of praise. While several different pupils took time to congratulate him on his game, including all of the rest of second-years, very few of them seemed to have noticed he had actually scored.
‘You were great!’ beamed Kyle, to Gordon’s delight. ‘I thought we were going to lose for sure when Oliver got hit by that bludger, but you kept going and…well, it looks like we might win the cup this year!’
‘Yeah,’ said Luke, with a smile. ‘Congratulations mate, you deserved that goal at the end!’
‘You saw it?’ beamed Gordon. ‘I just thought “I can do this!” and bam! Straight through the far hoop!’
‘I’m sure Oliver will be proud of you,’ said Luke. ‘We’d better head up to the hospital wing in a bit to check up on him. Professor McGonagall said we should let him rest, but I suppose he’d want to know.’
‘I’ll tell him myself!’ said Gordon animatedly. ‘Hold on while I get the rest of the team!’
*
Oliver, it transpired, was well awake when they reached the hospital wing, though Madam Pomfrey’s best efforts had still left him with a lump the size of a snitch on the side of his head.
‘What happened?’ he asked, as soon as he saw Gordon and Luke lead the team over to him.
‘We won, mate! We won!’ exclaimed Gordon, who couldn’t help but burst into a terrific grin. ‘It was probably the best moment of my life! I…well…we couldn’t have done it without you!’
Oliver did not seem to be particularly enthralled by this at all, and in fact seemed rather confused by the whole proceedings. As Gordon sat on his bed to give him a blow-by-blow account of the match, Oliver seemed none-the-wiser.
‘…and when we heard that Charlie had seen the snitch, well I knew I could get on the score sheet after our summer practices, so I “’
‘Er…look,’ interrupted Oliver. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but what happened?’
‘I…what?’ laughed Gordon. ‘Aren’t you listening? We won!’
‘Yeah, I’m very pleased for you,’ said Oliver, ‘but what happened to me?’
‘Oh! You took a bit of a nasty bludger to the head early on.’
‘Oh…’ said Oliver, who still looked rather bemused with the answer he had been given. ‘Were we playing Quidditch, then?’
Gordon stopped talking at once, and beside him Luke burst into a fit of laughter that earned him glares from Gordon and the rest of the Quidditch team, though Oliver seemed thoroughly confused.
‘Don’t you remember?’ said Gordon, his joy at winning passing into concern. ‘It was your first game for the Gryffindor Quidditch team “’
‘Oh. Oh!’ said Oliver, a look of comprehension finally dawning. ‘That’s right! I’m on the team this year! God, I’d completely forgotten! Listen, you’d better check with Madam Pomfrey if I’m going to be ready to play for the Ravenclaw game. It’s coming up soon and I can’t miss it! It’s probably the most important match of the season.’
Luke positively roared with laughter. Gordon felt rather pleased when Madam Pomfrey shouted at him and threw him out of the hospital wing. For one thing his amusement seemed distinctly inappropriate, and most of the Gryffindor team were looking like they might want to put him in here themselves.
‘It happened today, we won it,’ said Gordon calmly.
‘You played it without me?’ said Oliver, looking aghast.
‘You played,’ said Charlie, sitting down on the other side of Oliver’s bed. ‘Don’t you remember?’
‘D…did I?’ said Oliver, his expression utterly blank.
‘You took a bludger to the head early on,’ said Gordon. ‘It knocked you clean out and Professor McGonagall brought you up here, but you were playing for at least two minutes before it happened.’
‘I was?’ said Oliver, looking more confused than ever.
‘And didn’t let a shot past you.’ said Charlie cheerily. ‘You’ve no memory of it?’
‘Not a thing,’ said Oliver, apparently still unsure if he should be taking them seriously. ‘But we won?’
‘We did,’ said Gordon. ‘Can you remember who you are?’
‘Oliver Wood,’ said Oliver simply. ‘Unless I’ve missed a meeting.’
‘You haven’t missed a meeting,’ sighed Gordon. ‘Just your first Quidditch match.’
Gordon Owen and the Eastern Warrior - Book Two of the Evil Kneazle Series by AurorKeefy
Chapter Notes: Thanks to readers, mods, past betas, and my bed, which I am very much looking forward to returning to after tonight.
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