79: Trouble at the Quidditch Match

The storm brewing for a few days decided to start when Alaric stepped outside McGonagall's office, and the noise was even louder outside of the castle. The sky had grown darker for the last few days, so everyone expected some showery weather. But it was considerably more than a bit of rain.

Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns towards the Quidditch pitch, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went.

Alaric, on the other hand, walked calmly through the wet gravel that made the path, an umbrella made of clear water sprouting from his wand, stopping the fat raindrops from drenching him. 

His thoughts kept wandering to either how he had to kidnap his sister's friend's pet rat to get a sample to compare the three cases McGonagall mentioned — an animagus (Alaric himself), a Maledictus (Beatrice), and what Alaric guessed was a rat that had suffered from a poorly performed spell — that he barely noticed the tall Hufflepuff friend he'd made at the train waving at him. 

"Hiya, Alaric," Cedric said with a grin. He was standing under a small wooden cover from the stadium that trembled under the heavy rain and with every gust of wind.

"Cedric," Alaric acknowledged him with a nod. "What're you doin' here?"

"Me?" Cedric's grin trembled, obviously embarrassed. He scratched the back of his head. "Just waiting for a girl..."

"A date? In this weather?" Alaric chuckled. Cedric did look sharper than usual. His dark hair was combed, and his wet clothes weren't something you'd use in a weekend in Hogwarts — Quidditch game or not. 

"Didn't know it'd rain this bad, did I?" Cedric said, tilting his head to look past Alaric. 

"I s'pose," Alaric shrugged.

Maybe it was because he was older himself, but he noticed the main thing older students seemed to be worried about and do these days was snogging. Mild headache? Snogging. Sore throat? Snogging. Homework? A bit of snogging for motivation. Feeling cold? Guess what — snogging to warm you up. 

He couldn't keep track of how often he stumbled upon couples snogging while he was sketching the castle for the gremlin's map. Some hurried away, while others shouted at him, but they all eventually awkwardly left the corner they had sneaked into, rude ones with some donkey ears adding a bit of charm to their heads. 

What was all the rage about kissing, anyway?

"How's your hand?" Cedric asked conversationally. "Heard from a lad. Is it true that it was a dragon you fought in the Dark Forest that burned you?" 

"What? Who told you that?" Alaric had heard a lot of rumours about himself, but they just seemed to be getting more ludicrous by the day. "There's no dragons in the — wait, you don't ACTUALLY believe this, do you?"

"I mean..." Cedric smiled awkwardly. "After that Patronus on the train, it doesn't seem that far-fetched for you, does it?"

Alaric pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. What would they come up with next? Him fighting a Chimera whilst being naked and covered in pixie grease?

"If you'd read Hogwarts: A History, you'd know there never were dragons in the forest to begin with..." Alaric muttered, mostly to himself. "But no, Cedric, I didn't fight a bloody dragon,"

"Hi, Cedric!" 

Cedric did appear to want to say more, but he stopped when an Asian, dark-haired girl came across the lawn. She was holding an umbrella the same colour as her shiny hair, and the first thing Alaric noticed about her was her freckled nose that reminded him of someone. He was pretty sure he knew her from somewhere but couldn't quite put his finger on where.

"Oh — H-hiya, Cho," Cedric said with a small blush. "Al, this is Cho Chang. She plays—"

"In Ravenclaw, right?" Alaric said, looking at Cho. Her name made something click in his mind. She was in her fourth year and the Ravenclaw's Quidditch team substitute Seeker. He had only played against her once when her team's main Seeker — a seventh-year student — was sick, and Alaric guessed she'd take the mantle next year. 

"Y-Yes..." Cho mumbled shyly and looked at her feet. 

"Well, I'll leave you two to it then," Alaric said, wondering if he'd done something to make Cho uncomfortable. He noticed the weird look Cedric was giving her, but decided to just ignore it — the game was about to start.

__________

The tension was palpable in the quidditch stands before the players had even appeared on the pitch. Three-quarters of the stadium was covered in red, jeering and booing at the green section. Quidditch had always been a way for the students of Hogwarts to truly show their emotions — and it was extremely ugly at times.

"Tensions are high in this year's first match," Lee Jordan spoke through the magical megaphone. "This match will, of course, determine the beginning of each team's Quidditch season, and it's no exaggeration to say that it can either make it... or break it. On Gryffindor, we have Potter, the team's trustworthy Seeker... George Weasley there, a formidable beater — and so is his brother, Fred Weasley... and there's Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell, the fearsome trio of chasers! Of course, we can't forget Gryffindor's amazing captain, Oliver Wood, who I've been told is currently single, ladies!"

"Ahem." McGonagall's disapproving cough could be heard over the megaphone. Alaric doubted she meant it.

"Sorry, professor..." Lee continued, "..and here comes Slytherin," (deafening booing from the crowd, here), "As you all should know by now, due to a recent accident which may or may not have involved a dragon, Slytherin's Seeker, Alaric Grindelwald, had to sit this one out. In his place, Draco Malfoy! Personally, not what I would've done but—" ("Mr Jordan!"), "Sorry, sorry... And there comes Marcus Flint, playing as a beater, who resigned as captain this term..."

The boos grew so loud now that Alaric could barely hear Lee over the noise. Incredible that what made the other houses so united was Slytherin's devastating victory last year. 

Finally, the game began, and both teams shot into the air with incredible force. If the crowd was mean, the players were even worse — with the weight of their houses on their shoulders, it felt like a matter of life or death. Alaric had never seen either Blaise or Theodore play so hard; one rocketing up and down the pitch like a green bullet, the other catching and throwing the Quaffles faster than the Slytherin keeper could keep track of. Still, in the end, there were only two of them.

Within five minutes of the match, every single player was soaked to their skin in the freezing rain. They flew backwards and forwards across the pitch, streaks of red, gold, green, and silver all over the stadium. 

Eventually, Alaric couldn't hear the commentary over the howling wind, and neither could he properly see the game. Except for his transparent, magical cover rising from his wand, the crowd was hidden beneath a sea of cloaks and battered umbrellas. Daphne and Astoria sat to his right, while Tracey to his left. The three girls had their eyes glued on the field, trying to catch a glimpse of the players through the rain. Tracey wasn't helping and kept jumping up and down her seat. Alaric stayed seated as long as he could — his hand kept hurting because of the cold, and for some reason, the warming charms weren't working; and he was pretty sure he was doing them properly. 

At least, Alaric knew both Blaise and Theodore would be okay even with this weather. He'd enchanted their team robes against water, coupled with some warming charms, so their only real problem would be visibility. 

His gaze switched from Blaise flying around the defenders to Theodore stopping most of the quaffle shots. Between them and Zoe Carrow, they managed to keep the team afloat, stopping the Gryffindors from widening the inevitable gap in points caused by the quality of each team. 

Alaric was watching Draco almost getting hit by a bludger when, ultimately, he just lost track of the game. There was no helping it. Between Beatrice and Ronald Weasley's rat, Astoria's blood curse and his meeting with Lysandra at midnight, he couldn't focus on the match. Maybe he should steal the rat for a while. Maybe he should just tell Daphne he knew about Astoria's curse. Maybe he should put his jealousy aside and forgive his sister. 

Thunder echoed.

He'd catch glimpses of what was happening. At some point, Gryffindor's captain, Oliver Wood, had called for a time-out, and Granger entered the field to cast some Impervious charms on the players. It wasn't against the rules, and most of the Slytherin players already had something similar. Still, she should've asked Lysandra to do it, Alaric thought. His sister would've done it better. 

There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Alaric stopped his musings after the clouds grew even darker. He turned to look at the professors' stands.

Albus was in a deep conversation with Professor Snape — and Alaric had the feeling they were glancing at him — so he wasn't exactly focused on what was going on in the pitch. 

Something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Alaric had gone suddenly deaf. 

 Why was everyone else unbothered by it?

And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him, inside him, just as he became aware of something moving in the sky above. Alaric looked up, instantly reaching for his wand.

For the first few seconds, there was nothing but the dark grey sky, rain, and thunder. Then, it was as if a swarm of hundreds of tiny black dots broke through the clouds. Slowly, they became clearer and clearer, and Alaric felt that sensation of freezing water rising in his chest, cutting at his insides. 

But neither the professors nor the rest of the students noticed the Dementors descending upon the stadium. 

Alaric was so busy watching the swarm — recalling his happiest of memories in case they got too close — that he had quite forgotten the game was still running. So had everyone else, it seemed, except for Harry Potter, who flew high above the pitch and then around the outskirts, showing that famous Gryffindor courage as he sought out the snitch. 

No one was watching as Harry Potter, the smallest Gryffindor team member, caught sight of the tiny golden ball and began to soar down towards it from his incredible height. No one was watching Harry Potter because they were all watching the spectral thestral that left Alaric's wand when the Dementors came too close. Nor were they watching when Marcus Flint swung his bat so hard at a bludger that would have easily knocked him off his broom. 

He hit it so hard that it shot straight at Potter's face. Potter, though focused on the snitch, noticed the danger and swooped down immediately, ducking out of the way — just as he passed in front of Slytherin's goal. 

Now Alaric saw him — now everybody did, and a terrible shriek went up as the Dementors fled, and the bludger connected with Theodore's head and knocked him from his broom. 

They watched in such horror that all house prejudice was forgotten, as the limp body of Theodore Nott plummeted to the ground. 

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter!