───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, their D.A. meetings were put on hold because Angelina insisted on almost daily practices. The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game.

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both teams over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretense of sportsmanship, were determined to see their side's victory.

Blair realized how much Professor McGonagall cared about beating Slytherin when she abstained from giving them homework in the week leading up to the match. "I think you've got enough to be getting on with at the moment," she said loftily. Nobody could quite believe their ears until she looked directly at Blair, Harry and Ron and said grimly, "I've become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study, you three, and I really don't want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape, so use the extra time to practice, won't you?"

Snape was no less obviously partisan: He had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in the corridors.

When Katie turned up in the hospital wing with her eyebrows growing so thick and fast that they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth, Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair-Thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to the fourteen eyewitnesses who insisted that they had seen the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, hit her from behind with a jinx while she worked in the library.

Blair felt optimistic about Gryffindor's chances; they had, after all, never lost to the Slytherins. Ron was working extremely hard to improve, but his greatest weakness was his tendency to lose confidence when he made a blunder, but Blair had seen Ron make some truly spectacular saves like that one time he had hung one-handed from his broom and kicked the Quaffle so hard it soared across the pitch and through the center hoop at the other end.

Blair was worried more about how much Ron was allowing the Slytherins' tactics to upset him even outside the pitch. Blair and Harry, of course, had endured their snide comments for more than four years, so whispers of, "Hey, Potty, I heard Warrington's sworn to knock you off your broom on Saturday," and "Woody, I heard that even I can beat you on the pitch" just made them laugh.

"Warrington's aim's so pathetic I'd be more worried if he was aiming for the person next to me," Harry retorted, which made Blair, Ron and Hermione laugh and wiped the smirk off Pansy Parkinson'ns face.

"Well, pugs don't fly, Parkinson. I won't expect you on the pitch." Blair's comment made Pansy Parkinson blush a deep crimson and the whole class burst into laughter.

But Ron had never endured a relentless campaign of insults, jeers, and intimidation. When Slytherins, some of them seventh years and considerably larger than he was, muttered as they passed in the corridors, "Got your bed booked in the hospital wing, Weasley?" he did not laugh, but turned a delicate shade of green.

When Draco Malfoy imitated Ron dropping the Quaffle (which he did whenever they were within sight of each other), Ron's ears glowed red and his hands shook so badly that he was likely to drop whatever he was holding at the time too.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly gray, the mountains around Hogwarts became snowcapped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. Blair woke up early and immediately went to the boys' dorm for the first time since their first night back. She was relieved to see that Neville, Dean and Seamus were still asleep and frowned when Harry and Ron weren't there.

Blair ran to the Great Hall and rolled her eyes when she saw the Slytherins wearing the and saw that nearly everyone there was wearing, in addition to the usual green-and-silver scarves and hats, silver badges in the shape of what seemed to be crowns. Blair saw them pointing and laughing at Ron. She tried to see what was on the badges, but she was too concerned to get to Ron.

Blair was surprised when she received a rousing welcome at the Gryffindor table. She thanked them and sat in front of Harry and Ron and frowned when Harry shook his head to tell her that he wasn't well. Blair let out a sigh and squeezed Ron's hands. "Ronnie. How long have you been dreaming to be part of the Quidditch team?"

Ron looked down at his cereal. "Since we were kids."

"That's right. It's normal to be nervous especially since it's your first game, but you're going to be fine. You've been practicing so hard, and you've made some brilliant saves. You have Harry and me with you all the way, all right? We're standing with you, Ronnie."

At the end of Blair's pep talk, Ron looked a little less pale and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Blair." Hermione and Ginny sat down on either side of Blair.

"How're you feeling?" Ginny asked Ron, who was now staring into the dregs of milk at the bottom of his empty cereal bowl.

"He's just nervous," said Harry.

"Well, that's a good sign, I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous," said Hermione heartily.

"Hello," said a vague and dreamy voice from behind them.

"Hey, Luna-" Blair looked up to see that Luna was there. Her jaw dropped and her voice died down at the lion hat Luna was wearing.

Ron finally looked like color had gone back into his face because he was blushing so deeply. "H-Hi, Luna."

"I'm supporting Gryffindor," said Luna, pointing at her hat. "Look what it does..." She reached up and tapped the hat with her wand. It opened its mouth wide and gave an extremely realistic roar that made everyone in the vicinity jump.

"It's good, isn't it?" said Luna happily. "I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway... good luck, Ron!" She drifted away with Ron watching her with a huge smile on his face. 

Angelina came hurrying toward them, accompanied by Katie, whose eyebrows had mercifully been returned to normal by Madam Pomfrey. "When you're ready," Angelina said, "we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions and change."

"We'll be there in a bit," Blair assured her. "Ron's just got to have some breakfast."

It became clear after ten minutes, however, that Ron was not capable of eating anything more and Blair and Harry rose from the table with Ron. Hermione got up too, and taking Blair's arm, she drew her to one side.

"Don't let Ron see what's on those Slytherins' badges," Hermione whispered urgently. Blair looked questioningly at her, but Hermione shook her head warningly; Ron had just ambled over to them, looking lost and desperate with Harry patting him on the back.

Suddenly, Luna came towards them again and smiled at Ron. "Good luck again, Ron," said Luna, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. "And you, Blair, Harry —" She left with that.

Ron touched the spot on his face where Luna had kissed him and grinned like an idiot. Harry, Blair and Hermione chuckled before Blair pouted at Hermione. "How about me, Mione?"

Hermione rolled her eyes before placing a quick kiss on Blair's cheek. "Good luck." She said breathlessly, winked and sat back down with a giggling Ginny.

Silent as they went out of the Great Hall, Blair looked at Harry while touching her cheek (Ron was still in a daze). "H-Harry..."

But Harry was too busy grumbling. "Why won't anyone give me a kiss on the cheek..."

"Well, I'm here if you need one." Someone said behind them, making Blair grin and Harry's eyes widen as they turned around and saw a flustered Cedric there. He smiled widely at all of them. "Good luck on your match, lion, Harry... and Ron?" He was confused when he saw the redhead looking straight ahead.

"Thanks, Ced." Blair sent him a wink, making the Head Boy even more flustered.

"T-Thank you, Cedric." Harry was still blushing madly, thinking about Cedric's remark. He did not know how to respond to that and he didn't even know why his heart started beating a thousand times faster. Cedric sent them one last smile and patted Ron on the shoulder which surprised him though he smiled back at Cedric before the Hufflepuff went on his way.

Blair grinned and moved towards Harry who was still blushing though he had a small smile now on his face. "Come here, James." She grabbed him by the neck and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Harry glared at her before they burst out into laughter. They glanced at Ron, but he was still too distracted with his hand now on his cheek again.

Harry nudged Blair. "Look at the badges."

Blair finally read what was on the badges. "WEASLEY IS OUR KING." She exchanged glances with Harry before they hurried Ron out into the pitch. Blair and Harry encouraged Ron all the way, but he wasn't listening, his nerves finally settling in. The three of them quickly changed into their robes before listening to Angelina's speech.

"Okay, I've only just found out the final lineup for Slytherin," said Angelina, consulting a piece of parchment. "Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left now, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with the usual gorillas, rather than anyone who can fly particularly well. They're two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle, I don't know much about them —"

"We do," said Blair, Harry and Ron together.

"Well, they don't look bright enough to tell one end of a broom from another," said Angelina, pocketing her parchment, "but then I was always surprised Derrick and Bole managed to find their way onto the pitch without signposts."

"Crabbe and Goyle are in the same mold," Harry assured her. They could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators' stands now. Some people were singing, though Blair could not make out the words. She was starting to feel the rush she felt every time they had a Quidditch match. It was her first match without Oliver, but they got Ron, who was as good as her brother.

"It's time," said Angelina in a hushed voice, looking at her watch. "C'mon everyone... good luck."

The team rose, shouldered their brooms, and marched in single file out of the changing room and into the dazzling sunlight. A roar of sound greeted them in which Blair could still hear singing, though it was muffled by the cheers and whistles.

The Slytherin team were standing waiting for them. They too were wearing those silver crown-shaped badges. Blair caught Malfoy's eye and glared at him when he smirked and tapped the badge on his chest.

"Captains shake hands," ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reached each other. Harry could tell that Montague was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she did not wince. "Mount your brooms..."

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew. The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward; Blair zoomed into the air and smiled softly. Finally. She was back on the pitch.

"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me —"

"JORDAN!" yelled Professor McGonagall.

"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest — and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's — ouch — been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Blair Wood and Wood's away —"

Blair zoomed through the Bludgers and held on to the Quaffle when Pucey deliberately bumped into her as she threw the Quaffle through the right hoop and scored.

"Even with a bump from Pucey, Wood takes the first goal of the game. That's 10 to Gryffindor!"

"— now, Wood steals the Quaffle from Montague, and is that a One Man Porskoff Ploy by Wood? Amazing this, Little B. She passes to Bell. Bell dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call, Katie — and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

And as Lee paused to listen the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:

Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

Weasley was born in a bin,

He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley will make sure we win,

Weasley is our King.

"— and Katie passes back to Blair and Wood reverse passes to Angelina!" Lee shouted, and as Blair swerved back into position, her insides boiling at what she had just heard, she knew Lee was trying to drown out the sound of the singing. "Come on now, Angelina — looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! — SHE SHOOTS — SHE — aaaah..."

Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Warrington who sped off with it. Blair immediately followed and nodded to Angelina. They hammered Warrington in between them, and he dropped the Quaffle, which Katie immediately caught. She quickly scored and the Gryffindors cheered. 

Warrington came with the Quaffle, zigzagging in between Angelina and Katie; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Ron —

Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He always lets the Quaffle in,

Weasley is our King.

Blair tried to chase Warrington, but a Bludger hit her in the back. Blair gritted her teeth and stayed in her position while watching Warrington.

Fred came over to her worriedly. "Are you fine, Little B?"

Blair nodded. "I'm fine." She sped towards Warrington.

"— and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead —"

A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:

Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring...

"— so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!" But the scream of delight came from the Slytherin end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them, straight through Ron's central hoop.

"Slytherin score!" came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. "So that's ten-twenty to Slytherin — bad luck, Ron..." The Slytherins sang even louder:

WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN...

"— and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Blair Wood tanking up the pitch —" cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,

WEASLEY IS OUR KING...

Blair sped towards the air and tried to drown out the signing. She saw Pucey and Montague on either side behind her and quickly dove down, the two immediately followed, but just as she was about to crash, Blair swerved her broom up, and the two Slytherins crashed into the ground. Blair quickly threw the Quaffle to the center hoop, and Bletchley missed. The Gryffindors roared, and Angelina and Katie smiled widely at Blair.

"With a perfect Chaser version of the Wronski Feint, Blair Wood brings the score thirty-ten to Gryffindors!"

WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN...

"— and it's Warrington again," bellowed Lee, "who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Bell, come on now Angelina, you can take him — turns out you can't — but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell — er — drops it too — so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he's off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!"

Blair blocked Pucey's way but he dodged. Blair immediately followed him, but he was already too far.

"— and Pucey's dodged Blair again, and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!"

Blair let out a sigh and smiled weakly as she caught the Quaffle from Ron. Angelina and Blair got in two more goals, but Ron also let in two more goals. The score was now fifty-thirty. Luckily, they were still in the lead.

"Come on, Harry. Find the Snitch." Blair muttered under her breath as she sped in between Warrington and Pucey and reached out at the right time to take the Quaffle.

" — Wood intervenes, Wood takes the Quaffle, Wood to Bell, this looks good, now reverse to Wood — I mean bad — "

Blair groaned as she was hit by two Bludgers in the stomach, but she held on to the Quaffle with a tight grip, passed it to Angelina, who sped through the Slytherin Chasers. Angelina passed the Quaffle to Katie, who passed it back to Blair. Blair flew through them all and pointed the Quaffle towards the left hoop. Bletchley immediately flew towards there, but Blair changed direction at the last moment, and with one hand, she threw the Quaffle at the right hoop. Cheers erupted once more from the Gryffindors. It was now sixty-thirty. Blair never saw Angelina looking so happy at her after all the detentions and practices Blair missed.

After a few minutes, Blair had the Quaffle again. Just as she scored, Lee shouted. "POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH JUST AS WOOD SCORES! IT's 220-30! GRYFFINDORS WIN!" With a smile, Blair flew down but then looked at Harry worriedly.

"Are you all right?" Angelina said frantically.

"'Course I am," said Harry grimly, taking her and Blair's hands and allowing them to pull him to his feet.

"It was that thug, Crabbe," said Angelina angrily. "He whacked the Bludger at you the moment he saw you'd got the Snitch — but we won, Harry, we won! And Blair, those were amazing plays you did there."

Blair grinned at her. "You did well, too, Angelina-" 

But she was cut off when she heard a snort from behind her and turned around. Draco Malfoy had landed close by; white-faced with fury, he was still managing to sneer. "Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Blair and Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper... but then he was born in a bin... Did you like my lyrics, Wood, Potter?"

Blair did not answer and walked away to meet the rest of the team when Harry grabbed her arm. Blair frowned when Ron was the only one who looked dismayed as he made his way back to the changing rooms alone.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called, as Katie and Angelina hugged Blair. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly — we wanted to sing about his mother, see —"

"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelina, casting Malfoy a disgusted look.

"— we couldn't fit in useless loser either — for his father, you know —" 

Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through ruffling Blair's hair they stiffened, looking around at Malfoy.

"Leave it," said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little —"

"— but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Wood, Potter?" said Malfoy, sneering. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you two stand the stink, but I suppose when you're orphans even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay —" Harry grabbed hold of George while Katie was holding back Fred. Angelina and Cedric who had just arrived were stopping Blair from leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly. 

"Don't listen to him, Little B." Cedric whispered to her. "You know you're better than him." Blair did want to calm down but she was seeing red right now. She expected Malfoy to change a little after their moment at the Black Lake. She did have hope, but she knew now she was wrong in doing so.

"Or perhaps," said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it and the coffins of Wood's —"

Blair was not aware of all the teachers that were watching. All she knew was she broke away from Angelina and Cedric, sprinting at Malfoy with Harry and George behind her. Blair drew back her fist and punched Malfoy in the nose as hard as she could.

"Blair! BLAIR! NO!" Blair could hear the girls' screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around her, but she did not care. She felt Cedric, Harry and George trying to hold her back, but she managed to throw another hard punch to Malfoy's jaw.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" Blair let out a groan when her back hit the ground, she knew that she'd have bruises from the Bludgers that hit her back and her stomach from a while ago, but she quickly got to her feet with Cedric's help.

"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch. It was she who had hit her with the Impediment jinx.

Blair saw that Harry and George had their wands out, pointed towards Malfoy, while Cedric was supporting her with worry on his face. Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody. Fred was now being held back by Angelina and Katie.

"Are you alright, Blair?" Cedric asked with worry. Blair simply nodded, taking Cedric's arms off her as gentle as she could.

"I've never seen behavior like it — back up to the castle, Wood, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now! You too, Potter and Weasley!"

The howling and jeering of the crowd grew fainter and fainter as Blair, Harry and George marched off the pitch silently, still fuming. Blair winced slightly as her hand started aching as well. They had barely reached the door of Professor McGonagall's office when she came marching along the corridor behind them. She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf, but tore it from her throat with shaking hands as she strode toward them, looking livid. 

"In!" Professor McGonagall said furiously, pointing to the door. Blair, Harry and George entered. She strode around behind her desk and faced them, quivering with rage as she threw the Gryffindor scarf aside onto the floor. "Well?" she said. "I have never seen such a disgraceful exhibition. Three onto one! Explain yourselves!"

"Professor Minnie. In our defense, I was the only one who hit him," said Blair in a small voice, but Professor McGonagall's raging glare shut her up.

"Malfoy provoked us," said Harry stiffly.

"Provoked you?" shouted Professor McGonagall, slamming a fist onto her desk so that her tartan biscuit tin slid sideways off it and burst open, littering the floor with Ginger Newts. "He'd just lost, hadn't he, of course he wanted to provoke you! But what on earth he can have said that justified what you three —"

"He insulted my parents," snarled George. "Also, Blair's parents and Harry's mother."

"But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you three- fine, Wood, one decided to give an exhibition of Muggle dueling, did you?" bellowed Professor McGonagall. "Have you any idea what you've — ?"

"Hem, hem."

Blair, Harry and George spun around. Dolores Umbridge was standing in the doorway wrapped in a green tweed cloak that greatly enhanced her resemblance to a giant toad, and smiling in the horribly sickly, ominous way that Blair had come to associate with imminent misery.

"May I help, Professor McGonagall?" asked Professor Umbridge in her most poisonously sweet voice.

Blood rushed into Professor McGonagall's face. "Help?" she repeated in a constricted voice. "What do you mean, 'help'?"

Professor Umbridge moved forward into the office, still smiling her sickly smile. "Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority."

Blair would not have been surprised to see sparks fly from Professor McGonagall's nostrils.

"You thought wrong," Professor McGonagall said, turning her back on Umbridge. "Now, you three had better listen closely. I do not care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behavior was disgusting and I am giving each of you a week's worth of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if either of you ever —"

"Hem, hem."

Professor McGonagall closed her eyes as though praying for patience as she turned her face toward Professor Umbridge again. "Yes?"

"I think they deserve rather more than detentions," said Umbridge, smiling still more broadly.

Professor McGonagall's eyes flew open. "But unfortunately," she said, with an attempt at a reciprocal smile that made her look as though she had lockjaw, "it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores."

"Well, actually, Minerva," simpered Umbridge, "I think you'll find that what I think does count. Now, where is it? Cornelius just sent it... I mean," she gave a little false laugh as she rummaged in her handbag, "the Minister just sent it... Ah yes..." She had pulled out a piece of parchment that she now unfurled, clearing her throat fussily before starting to read what it said. "Hem, hem... 'Educational Decree Number Twenty-five...'"

"Not another one!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall violently.

"Well, yes," said Umbridge, still smiling. "As a matter of fact, Minerva, it was you who made me see that we needed a further amendment... You remember how you overrode me, when I was unwilling to allow the Gryffindor Quidditch team to re-form? How you took the case to Dumbledore, who insisted that the team be allowed to play? Well, now, I couldn't have that. I contacted the Minister at once, and he quite agreed with me that the High Inquisitor has to have the power to strip pupils of privileges, or she — that is to say, I — would have less authority than common teachers! And you see now, don't you, Minerva, how right I was in attempting to stop the Gryffindor team re-forming? Dreadful tempers...

"Anyway, I was reading out our amendment... hem, hem... 'The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members. Signed, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etc., etc...' "

She rolled up the parchment and put it back into her handbag, still smiling. "So... I really think I will have to ban these three from playing Quidditch ever again," she said, looking from Harry to George and back again.

Blair felt her heart falling and her stomach dropping. "B-Ban us? From playing... ever again?"

"Yes, Ms. Wood, I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick, and since you were the one who attacked Mr. Malfoy, I think you'll be serving your detentions with me," said Umbridge, her smile widening still further as she watched them struggle to comprehend what she had said.

"You, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley here. And I think, to be safe, this young man's twin ought to be stopped too — if his teammates had not restrained him, I feel sure he would have attacked young Mr. Malfoy as well. I will want their broomsticks confiscated, of course; I shall keep them safely in my office, to make sure there is no infringement of my ban. But I am not unreasonable, Professor McGonagall," she continued, turning back to Professor McGonagall who was now standing as still as though carved from ice, staring at her.

"The rest of the team can continue playing, I saw no signs of violence from any of them. Well... good afternoon to you." And with a look of the utmost satisfaction Umbridge left the room, leaving a horrified silence in her wake.

Blair felt the comforting pats of Harry and George on her shoulder and saw Professor McGonagall's look of pity. But nothing could take off the thoughts from Blair's mind. Banned... for a lifetime... and detention... with the devil in pink...

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Banned," said Angelina in a hollow voice, late that evening in the common room. "Banned. No Seeker, no Beaters and our star Chaser gone... What on earth are we going to do?" It did not feel as though they had won the match at all. The team themselves were slumped around the fire, all apart from Ron, who had not been seen since the end of the match.

"It's just so unfair," said Katie numbly. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? And what about the countless Bludgers he and Goyle hit at Blair? Has she banned them?"

"No," said Ginny miserably; she and Hermione were sitting on either side of Blair, who was holding her stomach and her back. "They just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner."

"And banning Fred when he didn't even do anything!" said Katie furiously, pummeling her knee with her fist.

"It's not my fault I didn't," said Fred, with a very ugly look on his face. "I would've pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you hadn't been holding me back." He then smiled weakly at Blair. "Thanks anyway, Little B." Blair sent him a small smile before staring miserably at her hands and the bruises on her knuckles from hitting Malfoy.

"I'm going to bed," said Angelina, getting slowly to her feet. "Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream... Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet... You better get that checked out, Blair..." She was soon followed by Katie. Fred and George sloped off to bed some time later, glowering at everyone they passed, and Ginny went not long after that. Only Blair, Harry and Hermione were left beside the fire.

"Have you seen Ron?" Hermione asked in a low voice. Blair and Harry shook their heads.

"I think he's avoiding us," said Hermione. "Where do you think he — ?" But at that precise moment, there was a creaking sound behind them as the Fat Lady swung forward and Ron came clambering through the portrait hole. He was very pale indeed and there was snow in his hair. When he saw Blair, Harry and Hermione, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Where have you been?" said Hermione anxiously, springing up.

"Walking," Ron mumbled. He was still wearing his Quidditch things.

"You look frozen," said Hermione. "Come and sit down!" Ron walked to the fireside and sank into the chair farthest from Blair and Harry's, not looking at them.

"I'm sorry," Ron mumbled, looking at his feet.

"What for?" said Blair.

"For thinking I can play Quidditch," said Ron. "I'm going to resign first thing tomorrow."

"If you resign," said Harry testily, "there'll only be two players left on the team."

And when Ron looked puzzled, Blair said, "I've been given a lifetime ban. So've Harry, Fred and George."

"What?" Ron yelped.

Hermione told him the full story; Blair could not bear to tell it again. When she had finished, Ron looked more anguished than ever. "This is all my fault —"

"You didn't make me punch Malfoy," said Blair, her temper rising.

"— if I wasn't so lousy at Quidditch —"

Harry clenched his jaw. "— it's got nothing to do with that —"

"— it was that song that wound me up —"

"— it would've wound anyone up —" Blair said, trying to keep calm. Hermione got up and walked to the window, away from the argument, watching the snow swirling down against the pane.

"Look, drop it, will you!" Harry burst out. "It's bad enough without you blaming yourself for everything!"

Ron said nothing but sat gazing miserably at the damp hem of his robes. After a while he said in a dull voice, "This is the worst I've ever felt in my life."

"Join the club," said Blair bitterly.

"Well," said Hermione, her voice trembling slightly. "I can think of one thing that might cheer you three up."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry skeptically.

"Yeah," said Hermione, turning away from the pitch-black, snow-flecked window, a broad smile spreading across her face. "Hagrid's back."

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Hey, everyone! It's been a long time since the last update, and I apologize for that. I've missed you all a lot so I decided to update with a filler chapter. I hope you all are doing well, and until next time!

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