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♫ I ♥ Chuck Bass ♫ ♫ Miss OCD at your service *bows* ♫
This is so good! I love it
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uh-oh, we're in trouble; something's come along and it's burst our bubble__________________________ ________________________________uh-oh, we're in trouble; book us a ticket on the next space shuttle!
Mia apologises for her prolonged absence. She had exams to study for... but then realised SS was more fun.
Sorry if this chapter seems a bit like filler. It is, sort of. Next chap I'll go straight to the plot though.
Also there's a time skip here. Amara's fourth year.
Thanks and enjoy
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Chapter 10 - June 1992
‘He’s just over there,’ Karina grinned. ‘Go on.’
Her loud voice rang through the crowded courtyard and was followed by a burst of giggling from the other girls sitting in the circle. Amara smiled and leant back on her hands, watching as Mina made her way to a group of boys sitting across the yard, and asked if she could speak to Pedro alone. His friends wolf-whistled and laughed.
It was just a few days until the end-of-term exams. They really should have been studying, but the prospect of summer approaching had swept all thought of revision from everyone’s mind. It was beautiful, at this time of the year. The grounds were no longer colourless, flowers were in bloom everywhere and every once in a while one would even spot a lone Bowtruckle trying to make its way back to its tree in the mountains after a winter lost in the grounds. And the fact that it hadn’t snowed for weeks meant that it was safe enough to go up to the mountains or the lake Russvatnet across, uninhabited by sea monsters.
Something glistened in the sky and Amara raised her hands to her eyes and squinted at it, realizing what it was as the owl dropped a few feet with the weight of the package it was carrying. It circled once around the courtyard, dodging a paper plane and an enchanted frisbee and landed in Amara’s lap.
She started untying the package from the owl’s legs, when she noticed everyone in her circle staring at it. Deciding to open it somewhere else, she pretended to read the letter, then said, ‘Oh, it’s that Broomstick Servicing Kit I ordered a few weeks ago.’ It worked, and the others went on with their chatter.
The letter wasn’t in Ginny’s handwriting. Usually Ginny was the one who wrote for all of the Weasleys, but she hadn’t heard from her since the start of term. Amara had sent her several letters before giving up and deciding that either they weren’t arriving or she didn’t want to talk. It took her quite by surprise, so she didn’t expect any more contact, before one of Fred and George’s remarkable packages had arrived – a jar of pickled eel’s eyes they’d sneaked off their Potions master. They’d sent far worse things before: a grubby loincloth that must have been a house elf’s; the doorknob to the staff room; a black egg they’d brought from the Forbidden Forest, which had hatched into a weird fluffy creature she couldn’t quite name and she’d given to Karina for her birthday; and the latest, a toilet seat, thankfully pristine clean and with ‘Greetings From Hogwarts’ written on the top in cheeky red handwriting, and a note on the side saying it was Mrs Weasley’s idea.
It was pretty embarrassing when Karina once found the toilet seat tucked away in Amara’s dresser while searching for a pair of socks to borrow, but apart from that incident Amara never minded the strange souvenirs. They were a piece of Hogwarts, after all.
So after thanking them for their generous gift of pickled eel’s eyes, Amara had asked them about Ginny, and now here was her reply.
Amara,
We’ve noticed Ginny’s been acting weird lately, too. For some reason she’s been leaving a bunch of rooster feathers everywhere she’s going (not kidding) – and yesterday we found all your letters in the common room, still unopened.
Don’t worry about it, though. We’re guessing it’s just her hitting puberty and feeling all too mighty and moody to talk to us elderly folks. That’s probably it. We’ll see you in a few weeks when term's over.
Yours most truly, sincerely and dearly,
FG
In a few minutes people had started to file in for lunch, and Amara and the others traipsed in after the crowd and made their way to the hall. In the pretence of needing to use the loo, Amara sidetracked and made to the fourth year girls’ dormitory, reached an empty corridor and sat down against a wall etched with incantations, tallies showing duel wins and in one corner, Grindelwald’s mark.
Amara remembered clearly, a few months ago, when a whole chain of duels went off around the castle after a bunch of kids started wearing the mark around, and unintentionally provoked those who had in some way been a victim of Grindelwald’s doings. She’d gotten in the way of one, though that wasn’t her plan from the start, and somehow had ended up with lead-heavy hands and had given two people sprouts for noses.
Professor Karkaroff had personally given out the detentions, and since the most part of the older students had landed themselves in it, most everyone had been given normal detentions. The teachers had suggested cleaning without magic and no lunch for three days, but a “select few cases with particular need of it” had been given a few hours each in the pit, Amara being one of them.
Why wasn’t she surprised to find out Professor Kysley had come up with this?
She’d forgotten just how horrible it felt, to be shoved into that pit and come up almost frozen to death. Amara shivered as she remembered, and untied Fred and George’s package. A bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, a few fake wands and some Dungbombs. From Hogsmeade, the note read.
Plopping a bean into her mouth, Amara recalled the straggly-haired woman from her memory again. She was so familiar, and appeared in her dreams frequently, and she was certain that she was someone well-known. But although she’d been to the library and looked in almost every book containing celebrated witches and wizards, none of them were to do with people who lived in the twentieth century. She’d even asked Mrs Burke once, pretending to have seen a picture somewhere, and her History Professor, whose name no one really knew, simply waved her away when she asked.
And despite how hard it was to admit it even to herself, and the shame she felt in her chest every time she remembered, Amara was almost sure that the woman, the dark, heartless murderer, was her mother.
=) Peeta Mellark <3||x.Dobby's Love For Socks.x||<3 Katniss Everdeen (=
The Twins glad they did send a toilet seat mayb next it could be cutlery fromt he Great Hall Loooooooooooved he chapter especialy how when Detention was the start of the year then this is at Summer x
Fantastic chapter!!
Just wondering... I take it she's in fourth year now? Since it is 1992 and Ginny is acting strange, that would be her first year, so Harry's second, and Fred and George's fourth, so also hers?
-Rachel
Aaaa so many comments *grabs you all in a bear hug*
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Originally Posted by Alex_Potter
glad they did send a toilet seat mayb next it could be cutlery fromt he Great Hall
Good idea, maybe they would
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Originally Posted by narnia_potter
Just wondering... I take it she's in fourth year now? Since it is 1992 and Ginny is acting strange, that would be her first year, so Harry's second, and Fred and George's fourth, so also hers?
Yes, you got it I'll be doing quite a bit of time skips now, but I'll say which year she's in every time.
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Originally Posted by aureus_aura
BTW what is happening to Ginny??
is Bellatrix still alive?When will Amara know about her??Is she going to meet her?
NEW READER Thankyou
Ginny's acting weird because it's her first year, when she opened the Chamber of Secrets, remember this takes place during when Harry/Ron/Hermione were at Hogwarts, but Amara is Fred and George's year Btw I see you're new to Snitchseeker, so a very warm welcome to you ^.^
Pirates of the Carribean|Twilight|Harry Potter| Certified Bookworm|Movie Addict
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Originally Posted by Lady Mouldywart
NEW READER Thankyou
Ginny's acting weird because it's her first year, when she opened the Chamber of Secrets, remember this takes place during when Harry/Ron/Hermione were at Hogwarts, but Amara is Fred and George's year Btw I see you're new to Snitchseeker, so a very warm welcome to you ^.^
Ohhhhhhh...
Thank you!!!
new chapter..can't wait!!
PAMS!PAMS!PAMS!
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BTW, I'm going to stalk you now...
*follows*
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astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
From all of Gringotts Goblins (and a special shout out from me!) Happy New Year! May 2012 allow your creativity to soar to new heights just like the dragon the year represents
I can't wait to read more about Amara and, well, let's be honest...anything with the twins is instant win!
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When you’re stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ........... this is our time to own it, so own it..................................... baby we were born withfire and gold in our eyes
Now I shall continue by saying that even though I have fallen behind on my reading I plan on catching back up and I'll be back to my usual uber long comments!
I took a bit of a break from Snitchseeker and I'm ashamed to say that I've been gone for far too long,
Okay, here it is, my two chapter comments that I'm missing. I hope this makes up for it!
SPOILER!!: Chapter Nine!
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The first week passed like a slow breeze of wind. It stretched out longer than Amara would have liked it to, but when the morning of Saturday the twenty-fourth came, she wasn’t sure if it had passed at all.
I love the imagery and simile!
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Her first thought when she woke up was the reminder that she had detention that day.
Never a fun thing to remember .
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Something made a loud splat against the windowpane and Amara jerked out of her daze suddenly. What looked like a mass of brown feathers was beating against the glass.
I would be freaked out to wake up to that!
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Crossing the dormitory in a quiet sprint, Amara reached the window and opened it cautiously, trying not to let too much wind and cold inside so the others wouldn’t wake up. The owl swooped in clumsily, landed on Mina Shishmanova’s
I wouldn't like that last name
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bed, and within a few seconds seemed fast asleep. Amara dashed to it and picked it up cautiously, not wanting to imagine the fuss Mina would do if she woke up to find an owl sharing a bed with her.
Hehehe, I want to imagine the fuss...
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This particular Mina was in fact possibly the most irritating roommate anyone could have. She complained about everything and anything, blamed everyone for every missing sock and quill, snored in tremendous exaggeration, fought to shower first in the morning, confused her bed with the others’, and had even attempted to jinx Fizzy once when she found a few black hairs on her pillow (which turned out to be her own).
My reaction if she were MY room mate:
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Frowning as she remembered, Amara plopped back onto her bed and, with the owl chirping sleepily next to her, she untied the letter from its legs and unfolded it:
Who's it from?!
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Hey Amara,
How’s it going there? I’m sorry I haven’t written a lot lately but I’ve been really busy with school stuff. I even got detention yesterday, just because I forgot my Transfiguration essay! Well, OK, for the second time running, but still... I had to clean the floor of Greenhouse 3 this morning, and believe me, that isn’t really anyone’s ideal morning...
By the way, this is Faye. She’s a cute little owl, isn’t she? But she likes to sleep a lot and doesn’t like travelling much. DON’T wake her up if she’s asleep, she gets real angry when I do that. I had to have someone else write notes for me last week because my hand was full of pinch-marks.
I’m really missing you here, but I’m sure it’s great at Durmstrang too! Write soon.
Dita
Dita! A letter from Dita! YaY! I would be excited to get a letter from my friends if I were in a place like Durmstrang.
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The common room was almost empty; a few older students were in a corner talking amongst themselves, a few others were playing Exploding Snap or Wizards’ Chess, and some, like Amara, sat down and buried their noses in books and parchment.
Sounds like Hermione to me, I personally would be playing with Exploding Snaps.
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The clock read a quarter past seven when Karina finally came down, yawning and rubbing her eyes and still in her pyjamas. She flopped down next to Amara, her hair ruffled and sticking out, still yawning like a sleep-deprived lion.
Again, I adore the imagrey and simile!
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‘Morning,’ Amara replied, still trying to decipher the meaning of a hard sentence in A Guide to Practical Use of Hexes and Jinxes. She stared at it for a while, reading it repeatedly and not taking in a word, then finally gave it up as a bad job, and turned to her Potions essay.
This sounds like me for sure when studying for my science!
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‘I’m bored,’ Karina said suddenly. ‘There’s still about half an hour for breakfast, and I don’t feel like doing my homework either... there’s nothing to do outside, my pack of Exploding Snap burnt up a while ago, and I’m not that good at Chess either—’
This also sounds like me..I can just relate so well!
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She was cut off as a girl with chalk-white skin and equally white hair came in and went up to them. She was wearing her uniform, despite it being the weekend, and she had a badge pinned to her robes, with a large, blood-red ‘P’ on it.
I don't like her...
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‘Are you Amarantha Burke?’ she asked Amara, who nodded. She gave her a reproving look. ‘Professor Kysely would like to speak to you, now.’
I very much dislike her.
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Karina looked cautiously at Amara, who didn’t meet her gaze. They’d avoided talking about detention the whole week, even though Karina had said she had no idea what it was exactly, because students were forbidden to say anything except that it was horrible. Apparently in the past years, a few daredevils had even got themselves into detention on purpose, just to find out.
Sounds like Fred and George, the last part... WHAT HAPPENS IN DETENTION?
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‘And you,’ the pale girl said, turning onto Karina. ‘Fix your hair, and don’t sit around doing nothing.’
So much disliking is going on here...
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He nodded at the Prefect and she left rather hastily, as if she didn’t want anything to do with Amara.
I really dislike that prefect..
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‘So,’ he said coldly, turning to Amara. ‘Your wand?’
Why do they want her wand? I AM SO NERVOUS!
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He held out his hand, and Amara noticed how long and skeletal his fingers were.
Scary..
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‘I left it in the dormitory. Sir,’ she added hurriedly.
‘Good. Follow me now.’
Why do they not want her to have a wand? Scared she;ll fight back?!
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Wondering how many times she was going to follow people around the castle, Amara did so and to her surprise, they didn’t cross the hall to one of the corridors or the stairs, but he opened the door and motioned her outside.
First thought that crossed my mind was "Forbidden Forest" then I realized this was not Hogwarts.
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The icy air met her like a thousand knives and, wishing she had worn something thicker, she followed the Professor as they walked a long way in the wind and the freezing silence, until she could see the whole outline of the castle when she looked back, her jumper pulled up to her neck and her hands wrapped around her shoulders.
Wonderfully Written!
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Professor Kysely stopped suddenly, and Amara peered around nervously.
I'll protect you Amara!
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A trapdoor, in the snow.
I admit, I did not see this coming.
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‘In,’ he indicated, as he pointed his wand and opened the trapdoor. ‘I will lock you in, and don’t even bother looking for a way out. I will come back in a few hours.’
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At first Amara did nothing, and stared at the dark hole in the ground.
‘Now,’ Kysely said quietly, his voice a threat.
‘No.’
‘How you dare—’ he hissed, pointing his wand at her. Amara took a step back, but he grabbed her arm and forced her into the hovel as she fought to no avail. The hole was a few feet deep, just enough for her to stand up straight.
Why do you do this to her?!?!?!
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‘You’ve earned yourself a few more hours in that pit,’ the Professor laughed nastily, as he shut the door in her face. Amara fumed with anger, but knew better than to retaliate. She waited until she was sure he had gone away, then sat down on the ground and hugged her knees, wondering if she would freeze to death there after all.
Will Krum rescue her?
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It was colder and more humid down here. From the crack of morning light slitting in, Amara could see moss growing on rough, carved-in walls. Words in Runes and languages she didn’t understand.
Ooh....
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Her heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second. She felt her arms freeze around her legs, her mind growing heavy and numb, and suddenly she wasn’t there anymore.
Wha..?
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A woman with unkempt black hair was standing next to her, a glint of insanity in her large eyes. Amara looked down at the floor, where a girl no older than five lay, sobbing and holding her wounded hands over her head. Three other people lay a few feet apart: a middle-aged man and woman, and a boy who looked in his teens, dead. Amara was screaming, but the woman waved her wand and Amara went on screaming, mutely.
Bellatrix? If so, DIE!
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‘Shut up,’ the woman snarled. ‘Filthy Muggles, they deserve this.’
...So much hatred.
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In another place and time she was running, her short legs not fast enough, her heart pounding and pulsating with fear so strong she couldn’t breathe properly. Claws tore at her shoulder, before the werewolf was thrown backwards in a burst of light from a wand.
Who's wand?
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And in another fraction, a face so distorted and burnt and inhuman surfaced into her memories, grinning nastily down at her.
I just had a heart attack,
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Amara gasped as she came to, her hands shaking, breathing in the cold air as the temperature suddenly went very clammy and fever-warm
.
Dementor?
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There was something at the end of the pit, shrugging off a shroud of moss as it formed out of it. She’d seen one of them, in one of her spellbooks. A dementor.
I so called it!
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She shivered and backed away to the far end, but the dementor didn’t follow. Maybe it hadn’t fully formed yet, maybe there wasn’t enough moss for it to born. Amara pressed herself against the jagged corner, willing herself to be smaller, to disappear. Those weird memories she couldn’t even recall, they kept forming, and as she stared warily across, she realised it would be a long time before the trapdoor opened again to let her out.
It's okay Amara, I'm down there in heart!
SPOILER!!: Chapter 10
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Originally Posted by Lady Mouldywart
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Chapter 10 - June 1992
‘He’s just over there,’ Karina grinned. ‘Go on.’
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Her loud voice rang through the crowded courtyard and was followed by a burst of giggling from the other girls sitting in the circle. Amara smiled and leant back on her hands, watching as Mina made her way to a group of boys sitting across the yard, and asked if she could speak to Pedro alone. His friends wolf-whistled and laughed.
Wolf Whistle! Makes me think of Remus for some strange reason.
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It was just a few days until the end-of-term exams. They really should have been studying, but the prospect of summer approaching had swept all thought of revision from everyone’s mind. It was beautiful, at this time of the year. The grounds were no longer colourless, flowers were in bloom everywhere and every once in a while one would even spot a lone Bowtruckle trying to make its way back to its tree in the mountains after a winter lost in the grounds. And the fact that it hadn’t snowed for weeks meant that it was safe enough to go up to the mountains or the lake Russvatnet across, uninhabited by sea monsters.
Have I mentioned that I love your writing skills and imagery?
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Something glistened in the sky and Amara raised her hands to her eyes and squinted at it, realizing what it was as the owl dropped a few feet with the weight of the package it was carrying. It circled once around the courtyard, dodging a paper plane and an enchanted frisbee and landed in Amara’s lap.
I love frisbees and I love enchanted things, that means I love it..
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She started untying the package from the owl’s legs, when she noticed everyone in her circle staring at it. Deciding to open it somewhere else, she pretended to read the letter, then said, ‘Oh, it’s that Broomstick Servicing Kit I ordered a few weeks ago.’ It worked, and the others went on with their chatter.
Hehe, Liar!
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They’d sent far worse things before: a grubby loincloth that must have been a house elf’s; the doorknob to the staff room; a black egg they’d brought from the Forbidden Forest, which had hatched into a weird fluffy creature she couldn’t quite name and she’d given to Karina for her birthday; and the latest, a toilet seat, thankfully pristine clean and with ‘Greetings From Hogwarts’ written on the top in cheeky red handwriting, and a note on the side saying it was Mrs Weasley’s idea.
This paragraph officially makes Fred and George the best twins in the word (And I have TWO sets of twins brothers, so that's saying something).
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It was pretty embarrassing when Karina once found the toilet seat tucked away in Amara’s dresser while searching for a pair of socks to borrow, but apart from that incident Amara never minded the strange souvenirs. They were a piece of Hogwarts, after all.
I can't even picture that conversation!
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So after thanking them for their generous gift of pickled eel’s eyes, Amara had asked them about Ginny, and now here was her reply.
Oh my...
Amara,
We’ve noticed Ginny’s been acting weird lately, too. For some reason she’s been leaving a bunch of rooster feathers everywhere she’s going (not kidding) – and yesterday we found all your letters in the common room, still unopened.
Don’t worry about it, though. We’re guessing it’s just her hitting puberty and feeling all too mighty and moody to talk to us elderly folks. That’s probably it. We’ll see you in a few weeks when term's over.
Yours most truly, sincerely and dearly,
FG
I love Fred and George, I want letters from them.
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Amara remembered clearly, a few months ago, when a whole chain of duels went off around the castle after a bunch of kids started wearing the mark around, and unintentionally provoked those who had in some way been a victim of Grindelwald’s doings. She’d gotten in the way of one, though that wasn’t her plan from the start, and somehow had ended up with lead-heavy hands and had given two people sprouts for noses.
I absolutely love the last sentence.
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The teachers had suggested cleaning without magic and no lunch for three days, but a “select few cases with particular need of it” had been given a few hours each in the pit, Amara being one of them.
I'm sorry Amara! :'( The Pit must be awful.
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Why wasn’t she surprised to find out Professor Kysley had come up with this?
I hate Kysley more then that prefect in the previous chapter.
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She’d forgotten just how horrible it felt, to be shoved into that pit and come up almost frozen to death. Amara shivered as she remembered, and untied Fred and George’s package. A bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, a few fake wands and some Dungbombs. From Hogsmeade, the note read.
Have I mentioned how much I love them?
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Plopping a bean into her mouth, Amara recalled the straggly-haired woman from her memory again. She was so familiar, and appeared in her dreams frequently, and she was certain that she was someone well-known.
I would never survive with that memory in my head.
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She’d even asked Mrs Burke once, pretending to have seen a picture somewhere, and her History Professor, whose name no one really knew, simply waved her away when she asked.
It must be sooo frustrating.
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And despite how hard it was to admit it even to herself, and the shame she felt in her chest every time she remembered, Amara was almost sure that the woman, the dark, heartless murderer, was her mother.
‘...Therefore, anyone interested in entering the Tournament must firstly inform Professor Kysely and if, over the course of your six, seven, eight years here you have proven yourself worthy enough to represent the school, you may be one of the few aboard the ship to Hogwarts, where you will spend the rest of the year – lessons and exams included – even if you are not one of the champions. Might I remind you that despite the precautions taken to make this year’s Tournament – less dangerous – for the champions, death is not necessarily out of the question. You have one week to decide. Go.’
The Headmaster addressed a yellow-toothed leer at the students as they started filing out of the hall for their lessons; Amara and Karina got up and followed the throng of chattering sixth-years making their way to History.
‘Always so positive, Karkaroff, isn’t he?’ Karina said, shouldering her schoolbag, which was surprisingly bulging for someone who rarely carried more than three books around. She peered sideways at Amara. ‘So, what do you think?’
Amara thought for a second. ‘Maybe, but it’s not like I have a big chance of going, seeing as Kysely’s in charge.’
‘Well, I’m definitely trying,’ Karina said, panting slightly under the weight of her mysteriously heavy bag. ‘I bet Hogwarts is great. Well, warmer, to start with. Plus there’s the Ball.’
‘What if one of us gets chosen, though?’
‘They’ll probably choose some tough guy like Pavlovich, not—’
There was a ripping sound and her bag’s contents fell to the floor. There was nothing that looked like it could have weighed more than two kilos – a few sheaves of parchment, two books, quill and ink, dragon-hide gloves, and a silver round object about five centimetres in diameter.
‘You’re still carrying that Warder around?’ Amara said wearily, kneeling down to pick up the sphere, which was much heavier than Amara had assumed it to be. Karina had taken to carrying the Warder around her everywhere she went after Professor Stach, their Magical Creatures teacher, had informed them that the sixth years would be studying Corridor Four. It was by far the most dangerous one, and – according to Karina – the Warder was the only reason they hadn’t been attacked by escaped rampages of Scandinavian dragons and Wendigos yet, as it supposedly warded off evil and bad luck.
‘Don’t tell me it doesn’t work,’ she’d said one morning, perched on the end of her bed in their dormitory as the two were waiting for their turn to use the bathroom. ‘Even Kysley’s been giving us less homework lately.’
After which Amara had had to lend two Dark Arts essays and a diagram for Karina to copy, who'd only just realised she had forgotten to jot them down on her diary, and had Dark Arts in one hour.
This sufficiently proved that the Warder didn’t, in fact, ward off evil or bad luck, but that didn’t stop Karina from hauling it around in her bag everywhere she went.
The History Professor had already started a drone on the 1689 Statute of Secrecy as they entered the classroom and seated themselves at the back, so, without further ado, Amara and Karina followed their usual routine of playing hangman on the corners of their parchment, occasionally scribbling down a note or two from the never-ending litany about witch hunters and Reasonable Restrictions on magic, or ticking off the names of boys they would go with to the Yule Ball or not.
*
The wind blew strongly from the north in the late October. It was the first Quidditch match of the year, and conditions were not very ideal, as Aleks McFarland, Amara’s team captain, kept reminding them as they waited inside the changing rooms beside the Quidditch pitch.
‘We could have done with a bit less fog – just look at that, how are you going to know if you’re catching Quaffles or Bludgers?’ he was saying to the Chasers, pointing at the window as he paced up and down the room. His face was strained in a look that said he’d have liked to aim a Bludger at whoever had fixed the date for the match, as he turned to their Seeker. ‘And you’ll be lucky to spot that Snitch before they call us off. Amara – keep your eyes open and you should be able to see the Quaffle coming. Stan, you—’
He broke off and stared at Stan, who seemed to have dozed off, head resting against his broom and a dribble of drool hanging out of his open mouth.
‘STAN!’
He jerked awake and hit his head against the wall in the act, then, seeming to realise what the look on his Captain’s face meant, started muttering in a thick, uneven accent, ‘Ah – Kapitan, I am most —’
‘Have you been drinking again, Stan?’ Aleks said, clenching his teeth and turning a deep shade of magenta.
‘Ne,’ Stan clearly lied, rubbing his head. His teammates glared at him. ‘Ah, come on, what can a few pints do?’
‘They can lose us this game, that’s what they can do!’ his Captain roared. ‘It’s bad enough already with this weather! And you didn’t come last time we had practice too. If you don't—’
‘Calm down, Aleks,’ Lea said, giving Stan a warning look as Aleks went on. She was a Chaser for the team, and always seemed to find herself being the go-between when one of these arguments broke out. After waiting a few seconds for Aleks let off some steam she cut in, ‘Shut up, Aleks! Both teams play on the same pitch, don’t they? So those Teeming Thestrals aren’t any better off than us. We’ve got a good chance of winning.’
‘Not with Krum on their—’ Stan fretted, rubbing his head. Lea glared at him and he cut off immediately.
A few seconds passed in a strained silence, then Aleks turned round and, head hanging in a defeated way, he said, ‘Come on. The game’s about to start.’
‘We’re going to win this,’ Finn, their Seeker, cheerily said, clapping his Captain on the back, as they heard the commentator outside shout, ‘...and a round of applause for the previous year’s champions, the Hippogriffs!’, and dashed outside, where it had started to rain.
*
‘We lost.’
Back in the changing rooms, Aleks sat down on a bench and stared miserably at his shoes, droplets of rain dripping from the end of his nose onto the wooden floor. The others glanced at each other knowingly. He was probably going to ruin their lives that week with his pestering and groaning.
‘Lost. And we won’t get to play another match for at least another year.’ He looked up at Amara, Stan and Finn, looking so hopeless the situation felt almost funny. ‘What with you guys at the Tournament – I mean, not that – but how will we – unless...’
‘Unless you replace us?’ Stan said bluntly, taking out a bottle of what suspiciously looked like Firewhisky from his rucksack and innocently popping the cork with his wand. He took a sip and went on. ‘No way, Kapitan. I have been trying to get on this team vor years. I am not going to just—’
‘Why are you entering the Tournament, then?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Lea cut in. ‘I think we all agree that we should get substitutes, just for this year, yes? Right, that’s settled.’
She got up and, without waiting for an answer, went out into the pitch, followed closely by the other Chasers. Not knowing exactly what to say, Amara hurried outside too, preferring to leave the pep talk to someone who was good at it, like Finn.
It had stopped raining now, but the clouds, dark and dense with water, promised of a storm later in the night. It must have been near sunset, but the sky was already a navy blue. Amara walked in long, slow strides up the steep hill to the castle, wondering if her name would be among the students chosen to go to the Tournament, when the list would be called out the next morning at breakfast. And if they were allowed to take their broomsticks with them to Hogwarts, after all.
She didn’t realise she had reached the East Wing before something made a resounding crash behind her and she spun around, searching for the source of the sound in the torch-lit corridor. Her eyes fell on what looked like a heap of bedraggled clothes leaning on a broomstick and holding what looked like a bottle of Firewhisky.
Sighing exasperatedly, Amara walked towards her drunk teammate and pulled him up with great effort.
‘I apologise,’ Stan said, accenting the ‘ise' so that it echoed across the corridor. He bent down to pick up his Firewhisky, almost toppling over again in the act. ‘It seems I have gotten myself a bit lost. Well, I’ll be off then.’
‘Yeah, well. Are you sure you remember the way?’ Amara said, regretting her words as soon as she’d said them. She’d curse herself into a Flobberworm if she ended up spending the night as a tour guide. She didn’t even know exactly where the boys' common room was.
‘Amara, what took you so long?’
Turning around, she saw Karina closing the door to the common room and hurrying towards her. Sparing a look of reproach at Stan, who was now slurping whisky all over his Quidditch robes, she hurriedly said, ‘I just saw a note on the notice board, and it said there were too many names entered for the Tournament, so they’re holding tryouts instead. They’re tomorrow at five.’
-----
I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think
Last edited by Lady Mouldywart; 08-03-2012 at 12:39 PM.
your doing amazing though!
glad they did send a toilet seat mayb next it could be cutlery fromt he Great Hall
Loooooooooooved he chapter especialy how when Detention was the start of the year then this is at Summer 
Thankyou 
x12 
x12
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