LUCY:

I carefully folded my letter and walked to the dormitory fireplace, casting a silencing spell before pulling aside the grate so I wouldn't wake my still-sleeping roommates. I had gotten up early to talk to Cedric's portrait like I did every Sunday morning, but I found that I still had more to say, so I wrote him a letter instead of going back to sleep once I returned to my dormitory like I'd originally planned.

"Lucy?" I had been so focused on watching the letter burn that I hadn't heard Lavender get out of bed. She knelt on the rug beside me and offered me a curious expression. "What was that?"

I felt my face heat. "It was — er — a letter to Cedric. They're, well, obviously not meant to actually be sent, so I burn them instead. Sorry, I know that must sound strange — "

"No, not at all. I think it's beautiful, or, well, as beautiful as it can be, considering the circumstances," Lavender said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Thanks," I whispered back. "After yesterday, I... needed to talk to him, and the portrait wasn't enough. It never has been, not really, because it's not him, but..."

"Are you glad it exists?" Lavender asked. "I heard about it when it was first introduced to the Hufflepuff common room, but I wasn't sure how to ask how you felt about it. I... I'm afraid I haven't done a proper job of asking how you've felt about anything since that awful night. I feel like I should be doing more for you, since you lost your brother, but I've never even known where to start," she finished, looking more shy and embarrassed than perhaps I'd ever seen her.

"I'm glad it exists. As much as it hurts knowing that one day the Hufflepuff common room will be full of people who won't know the difference between the real Cedric and the portrait Cedric, I know Cedric would have wanted a part of him to stay here and be helpful forever." I offered Lavender what I hoped was an It's okay smile. "You were there in all of the ways I needed you to be. You helped me with my mascara that day. You helped me get out of bed on the days I thought it was impossible. You made me laugh on the days I thought that was impossible, too."

"But I didn't even know that you still miss him so much you write him letters," she said.

"Not very many people do," I replied with a shrug. "I know I don't exactly make it easy for people to know me. I'm much more comfortable suffering in silence than actually asking for help when I need it, and that's something I'm trying to change, because it does more harm than good. I mean, the first time Harry ever saw me cry was the day after Cedric died, after almost four years of being very close friends. There are things I've written in these letters to Cedric that I've never told anyone." I sighed. "You know, sometimes I envy how easy it is for you to show your emotions and share your opinions."

Lavender echoed my sigh. "I think it does more harm than good, the same way you think holding your thoughts and feelings inside does more harm than good. I get teased so much for loving Ron as, well, loudly and proudly as I do, but I really do love him and I don't know how to love him less. I think he's getting annoyed with me, and part of why I was so upset last night was because I was scared that ignoring me was his way of breaking up with me, but I think... I think maybe he wanted me too, at least for a little while. I think maybe I was good for him."

I weighed my next words carefully, trying to be as truthful as possible while still treating Lavender with the kindness she deserved.

"I know you love him, and I think that's been really good for him," I said. "I don't know if or when he's going to break up with you, but if or when that happens, I think you two have been good for each other anyway. I know he makes you happy, and even if he's not the best at expressing it, I know you've made him happy too."

"Yeah, because I'm the only person willing to snog him," she retorted, sounding put-out.

I shook my head. "No, that's not it." I paused. "Well, that's not all of it, anyway. Think about it, Lavender. Ron's the best friend of the 'Chosen One' and the sixth out of seven kids, not to mention all of the bullying that happened last year because he struggled as Keeper at first. His other best friends are Hermione and me, and neither of us are particularly known for being, let's say, openly affectionate. Then you came along, and you chose him, and you were so visibly happy to be with him, and you wanted to be with him and only him for a long time. Even though he's part of the 'Quintessential Quirky Quartet' nonsense and we love him very much, he has a really hard time feeling valuable and valued on his own. You did that for him, and you could very well have been the first person to truly do that for him. I don't know how much longer you two will last, because we're all young and love is fickle and almost nothing in this world lasts forever, but you've made him happy beyond just the snogging."

Lavender's eyes glistened with tears. "You really think so?"

"I really think so," I said with a nod. "D'you remember what I said when this all started?"

"As long as we make each other happy, you won't say anything bad about us?"

"Exactly, and I haven't. And even if something happens, I'll still be there for both of you, okay?"

"Okay." Lavender's lower lip trembled. "Thanks."

I wrapped my arms around her and held on tight. "It's going to be okay. I love you."

"I love you too," she replied tearfully.

"It's still early, you ought to head back to bed," I said. "I'm sorry for waking you."

"You didn't. I just woke up because I was thirsty, then I saw you kneeling in front of the fireplace burning something and figured I should check on you."

I snorted. "Yeah, that's not something you see every day, is it?"

"No. How did you open the grate without making a sound, though? It's always horrendously squeaky whenever any of us try."

"A silencing spell," I replied with a shrug.

Lavender glanced over at my nightstand. "But your wand is over there."

"I — er — I practiced a lot of wandless magic while working at the joke shop," I stammered. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. "The twins figured out that I could use wandless magic without activating the Trace. Silencing spells were high on my list of priorities. Explosions, Weasley twins, you know how that goes."

"Fair enough," she said, chuckling softly. "Well, that's really impressive. Maybe I could teach you how to be less shy about expressing how you feel, and you could teach me how to do a wandless silencing spell so I don't bother other people with how loudly I express how I feel."

"Deal." I chuckled for a moment before looking at her seriously. "You don't need to change a thing, though. The right person will love you in all of your fullness."

"You really think so?" Lavender asked for the second time that day.

I nodded again. "I know so." I pushed myself to my feet and stretched. "I got back so late last night I didn't shower before collapsing into bed and getting a couple hours of sleep, so I think I should shower now."

Lavender narrowed her eyes at me. "Don't you need more sleep?"

"Not as much as I need a shower, trust me," I replied lightly, shaking my head.

Lavender looked unconvinced, but we parted ways, her returning to bed and me taking a much-needed shower. I emerged twenty minutes later feeling a little more refreshed and a little more ready to face whatever the day had in store. I knew that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, and it was still early, so I figured I'd head to the library and try to find a couple of new books about memory-related magic before too many people were awake, to perceive me or, worse, to ask questions.

Instead, I entered the common room just as Harry climbed through the portrait hole, and that plan went out the window.

"Oh, good morning, Lu," he said. "Ron's awake and he's asking for you."

I blinked. "For me? Why?"

"I didn't ask." Harry smiled, somewhat shyly. "I didn't even think to ask, because of course he'd want to see you, you know? Why would I question something that makes so much sense?"

"It's too early in the morning for you to be saying something that sweet," I replied, face flaming. "I'm just surprised he didn't ask for Hermione."

"Oh, he did, but not while he was awake," Harry said with a smirk.

I nodded slowly. "I see. How long were you down there? You slept, didn't you?"

"I got more sleep than you did. I have the Marauder's Map, you know. You were in the Hufflepuff common room when I woke up."

"That I was." I hopped over the back of the sofa and stared at the fire as Harry joined me. "I just really needed to talk to Cedric. The portrait was nice, but it wasn't enough, so I wrote a letter too."

"So did I."

I blinked and looked at Harry, who didn't meet my eyes. "You wrote Cedric a letter too?"

"I've written a few," he whispered. "I wrote the first one the night you told Hagrid and Ron and Hermione about what happened in the caves. I — er — figured that my account of how you're doing might be a bit more accurate than yours. I know he won't ever actually read any of the letters, but — "

"They help, I know," I said. Harry met my eyes then and nodded. I smiled. "It's sweet that you do it too. I'm glad it helps. And for what it's worth, I really do try to be as honest as possible in those letters. Like you said, he won't ever actually read any of them, so it's not like I'm actually being vulnerable, you know?"

"Yes, because actually being vulnerable would be so horrible," he remarked sarcastically. He smiled at me fondly, though. "You get braver every day about being vulnerable. I'm proud of you. He would be too."

"Harry, what did I tell you about being so sweet this early in the morning?" I buried my very-red face against his shoulder for a moment before getting to my feet. "Anyway, I'll go see Ron. Reckon I should bring his birthday gift with me?"

Harry shrugged. "Might give him something to do so he's not bored out of his mind all week."

"Good idea. His birthday gift should still be in your dormitory. I know you couldn't bring yourself to go up there last night and see his empty bed, but would it be easier if I was up there with you the first time you did it?"

"I was hoping you were the blanket person," he said with a small smile.

"As opposed to Dobby?" I retorted.

"I was more worried that it was Romilda Vane, actually."

I winced. "Right. That would have been bad. No, it was me, don't worry. Anyway, why don't you head up there with me?"

"Alright," Harry replied, looking apprehensive.

He did follow me, though, and sure enough, Ron's gift was right where we'd left it the previous morning. I tossed the sack over my shoulder, earning a quip from Dean that I looked like Father Christmas if he was a Chudley Cannons fan, and made my way down to the Hospital Wing.

"Good morning and happy birthday, day two!" I called as I raced over to Ron's bed and dropped the sack at his feet with a flourish, smiling brightly. "I think it's fair to say you need a do-over. Luckily for you, you never opened mine, so, really, I suppose yesterday and today can feel like just one big birthday day with a bout of unconsciousness in the middle there."

Ron snorted, pushing himself to a sitting position with considerable effort. "Thanks, Lucy."

"Oh, and Lavender should be by sometime today to bring you hers!"

"That's... sort of why I wanted to talk to you," he said. He shifted uncomfortably. "I am quite excited about my birthday gift too, I promise, thank you for bringing that. Is it okay if we talk first, though?"

I nodded, setting the sack on the floor so I could sit at the foot of his bed. "Of course. You seem troubled. What's wrong, aside from the obvious fact that you're in the Hospital Wing?"

"I had... dreams. You know the kind of dreams that make you realize a deep truth about yourself that you're too thick to see in real life?"

"Yeah," I said softly. "I do. I reckon we're talking about different types of truths, though."

"What d'you mean by that?" he asked.

"I — " I paused, thinking about what Harry had said mere minutes ago about vulnerability. "I had a recurring nightmare every month stretching from the second task to a year after Cedric's death where I was at the bottom at the Black Lake. It was dark and cold and I was alone, and I knew Cedric wasn't coming. Even when Cedric was still alive and I had that dream, I just somehow still knew he wasn't coming to save me. I'd stay there until the world went black, and then I'd wake up."

Ron exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Different types of truths. I'm sorry, that sounds horrible, why didn't you tell anyone about that?"

"It seemed silly to be so afraid of something that was just a dream, at first, since Cedric did come for me when I was at the bottom of the Black Lake in reality," I confessed. "Then it wasn't a dream anymore, and it seemed silly to be so afraid of a dream when reality was so much worse. I stopped having that nightmare when your brothers tossed me overboard, in the process of making the pirate Daydream Charm. I think I subconsciously realized that I could save myself. They tossed me overboard, I swam back to the boat and clambered back on all by myself. They tried to help me back onboard, but I insisted I could do it myself and I did and I haven't had that nightmare since."

"Well, good for you," he said, grinning.

I shrugged. "Guess so. Anyway, we can talk about your deep truth now. Let me guess, it has something to do with our darling Hermione?"

"How on earth did you — "

"I told you months ago that I knew you still fancied her. And... you said her name in your sleep last night."

Ron groaned and put his hands over his face. "I was dreaming about her."

"What kind of dream?" I asked warily.

"Nothing bad," he said, voice muffled by his hands still over his face. "Nothing scandalous. She was talking to me. I couldn't make out what she was saying, but the sound of her voice was just so nice and she was looking at me so earnestly and I've just missed that so much and — " He sighed heavily and dropped his hands. "I don't know what to do about any of it. I've really mucked this up, haven't I?"

"Well... yeah. Sorry."

"I was sort of hoping you'd be too nice to be honest with me, but I appreciate the honesty," Ron said after a second.

I laughed. "I thought about lying, but you really made a mess. That's okay, though! It was your first relationship, it was bound to be messy and wonderful and explode, more likely than not. D'you have any idea how rare and beautiful it would be to get love right the first time? How many people do you know that have loved the same person their entire lives?"

"My parents. They were together at Hogwarts, then eloped after they graduated, then had Bill a couple years later, and you know the rest."

"And that's beautiful, but that's rare. What do you think would have happened, if, say, your mum had been born in America instead and they'd gone to different schools? Do you think they would never have dated anyone else until they found each other, if they found each other at all?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. What's the point of this hypothetical?"

"The point is that you have to get lucky to find a love like theirs, and not many people are quite that lucky."

"Do you think you're that lucky?" he asked, his voice surprisingly devoid of teasing. "You've fancied Harry for years and never wavered on that. Do you think you're one of the lucky ones?"

"This isn't about me," I replied as I shook my head and tried not to blush.

"Please, I'm genuinely curious."

I kept shaking my head as I thought about the extraordinary circumstances that led to me meeting Harry in the first place. "I don't know if luck had anything to do with that. It's complicated."

"Alright, alright, you don't have to answer if you don't want to answer," he said. "Anyway, I guess you're right, but — but if Hermione really is... if she's my person, then I really mucked this up. She was right there, and..."

"It's not your fault that she's... difficult to read at times. Lavender, on the other hand, openly and enthusiastically adores you, and she's fancied you on and off for years. I understand why you wanted her."

Ron turned red. "You were right, back when this all started. I did still have feelings for Hermione, but I was so angry at myself for still wanting her after the ways we've hurt each other over the years that I couldn't admit it even to myself. And then on Christmas, that awful necklace — "

"Oi, be nice, Lav was excited about it."

Ron levelled me with an unamused look.

"Okay, yes, it was awful. But she was excited about it, and — stop laughing, I'm trying to make a point!" I said, trying very hard not to laugh myself. "She's a lot like you. She has a lot of older sisters. And I mean sisters who are a lot older than her. Lavender was an accident and she knows it."

Ron blinked. "I didn't know that. She never told me."

"Yes, well, I talk to her instead of snogging her, so I reckon I know more about her than you do, no offense."

"None taken."

"Anyway, she's a lot like you in that her relationship with her family is complicated. She feels overlooked at best, unwanted at worst, and she never really had anything or anyone that was just hers. She always had to wear her sisters' hand-me-downs and she's always expected to be just like her sisters and she's spent her whole life trying to do something new and brilliant that will finally make her feel like she's something special. Does any of that sound like something that relates to you and your experience?"

"Perhaps," he replied quietly, his face reddening again.

"Then all of a sudden you wanted her, and she wanted you, and you were hers and she was yours and you both felt like you finally had the special attention you'd always wanted. She got you that awful necklace because she wanted it to be even more obvious that you belonged to each other. I'm not trying to say that you two are healthy or good for each other, because I've known since the beginning that this couldn't possibly end well, but I don't think your relationship was a total waste, either. You loved her more than Seamus did, and she loved you more than you realized Hermione did."

"Harry told me about yesterday, and how worried Mione was." Ron searched my eyes with his own. "You really think she loves me?"

"She'd have to be a fool not to," I replied simply. "Was your relationship with Lavender a bit of a trainwreck? Yes. Was Hermione hurt by it? Yes. Will Lavender be hurt when the relationship is over? Yes. Was it a mistake to get with Lavender in the first place? Maybe. But at the end of the day, you're a good person who loves Hermione Jean Granger very much and I know you'll find a way to make it right. Time will only tell if Hermione really is the person for you, and time will only tell who the right person for Lavender is, but you'll only find out if you go your separate ways and try to answer your own questions."

"Right. Okay. I understand. Thanks, Lucy." Ron sighed and flopped backwards onto his pillows. "Bloody hell, now what? I can't exactly break up with Lavender while I'm trapped in this bed. 'Hey, thanks for the birthday gift, I'm breaking up with you.' I'd have nowhere to run. She could cry here until curfew and I'd just have to endure it unless Madam Pomfrey kicked her out for 'overexciting' me or whatever."

I snorted. "Well, you don't have to break up with her right away. She was plenty worried about you too, you know."

"I just don't know if I'd be able to keep up the act, after having such an epiphany about Hermione. I don't want to hurt Lavender more than I already know I will by breaking up with her."

"I'm very confident that you'll figure something out," I said, patting his hand. "If you decide to break up with her while you're still here, just let me know and I can conveniently come in after the fact and offer to take her down to the kitchens to bake cookies or something."

"Thanks, Lucy." His eyes were troubled as he stared at the ceiling. After a couple seconds of silence, he sighed. "Harry blamed himself for this, didn't he?"

"He did. I sorted him out as best I could. It wouldn't hurt if you could reassure him a bit more, though. He might feel better if it comes from you directly."

"I tried, but he wouldn't let me get a word in when he was apologizing this morning, then as soon as he was done he shoved the gifts from the twins at me to distract me. I shouldn't have let it work, but — "

"Hey, it's okay, you're not exactly in top form right now," I said reassuringly. "Speaking of gifts, though, I can leave if you want to go through the sack. Or if you want to go back to sleep, or if you're simply tired of my company. I won't be offended, whatever the reason."

"I don't get tired of your company, Lucy," he replied. "I happen to be your friend and I enjoy talking to you. I am a bit tired, though."

"Yeah, being poisoned is exhausting."

Ron snorted. "If anyone would know, it would be you. Merlin, I hate Snape. That was a very stressful day, you know. I thought you were going to die right in front of me. Harry would never have forgiven me."

"Hurry up and get better so we can go prank Snape again, just the two of us," I said. I got to my feet and moved the sack so it was somewhere he could see it and reach it when he woke up. I ruffled Ron's hair. "Don't worry about Lavender and Hermione right now, you'll figure something out when you're feeling better. Rest up. I'll come back later."

"Thanks," he replied through a yawn, eyes sinking shut. "Good night."

"Good night," I whispered before I slipped out the Hospital Wing doors and walked directly into Lavender.

"Oh! Good morning again!" she said. "How is he?"

I winced. "He was just about to fall asleep, sorry. Harry woke him up quite early this morning."

"That's okay, I'll go leave my gift on his bedside table, I would hate to bother him while he's sleeping." Lavender bit her lip. "Hermione wasn't in her bed when I woke up again. Is she — ?"

"She's not in there, no. I haven't seen her yet today. I reckon she's in the library or at breakfast."

Lavender looked relieved as she nodded. "Okay. Yeah. That makes sense."

"He's all yours," I said, squeezing her shoulder as I stepped past her and made my way to the Great Hall to have breakfast myself.

Sure enough, Hermione was there, sitting by herself and stirring her porridge listlessly. I headed directly to her and lowered myself beside her.

"Good morning, Lucy," she said quietly.

"Morning, Mione. Ron's okay, I've just been to visit him. He's going back to sleep, but I reckon he'll be awake this afternoon if you want to see him."

"Thanks."

"Of course. Do you want me to go with you later, or would you rather talk to him by yourself?"

"Would you mind coming with me? I haven't, er, properly talked to him in..."

"About four months?" I finished for her.

"Something like that," she whispered. "And to think, he could have died yesterday, and — "

"He didn't," I said firmly. "He could have, but he didn't. That means you get the chance to figure everything out and make it alright again. I'll go with you, but if you want me to leave so the two of you can talk more privately, just say the word and I will happily make myself scarce."

"I don't know what to do."

"Neither did I, when I was the one giving you the silent treatment and you were the one in the Hospital Wing."

Hermione blinked, turning to look at me for the first time. "Lucy, that was different. I hurt you deeply, you had every right to be angry with me — "

"Ron hurt you deeply too."

"But it's so silly, far sillier than your reasons for giving me the silent treatment, and I know that, but I still couldn't bring myself to let it go until he nearly died — "

"Well, one of these days, we're going to learn that there are more constructive ways to be angry with someone we love than the silent treatment," I said with a shrug. "He's going to be okay. You two get the chance to figure out how to be friends again, maybe even more than that."

Hermione flushed crimson.

"I know you love him. He loves you too, I promise. You'll work through it. D'you want to practice dueling a bit while we wait for Ron to wake up?" I asked.

"That would be a nice distraction," she said. "Good idea."

"I have those on occasion. Now come on." I held out my hand and summoned a banana, passing it to her. "Maybe you'll stop stirring your porridge and start eating it if you add the banana slices you love so much. Is today a banana and brown sugar day, or a banana and strawberries day?"

"Banana and strawberries," she replied, "so I will get my own strawberries so you don't get so nauseated by their proximity you turn green."

"I don't turn green every time I see a strawberry, but..." I smiled at Hermione. "See how well we know and love each other?"

She nodded and smiled back. "Yeah."

Once we'd finished our breakfast, we made our way up to the seventh floor and dueled each other until lunch. We stopped by the Hospital Wing after lunch to find Ron just beginning to stir. He was so excited to see Hermione when he opened his eyes that he pushed himself to a sitting position too quickly, got dizzy, and sagged against her, clinging to her for dear life for several seconds. She caught him and held him tight, shooting me a look that was equal parts pleased and alarmed. I reached forward, tugged Cedric's jumper loose, draped it over Ron's back, then left the Hospital Wing as soon as Ron was feeling steady enough to — reluctantly, very reluctantly — release Hermione.

I rushed up to the Gryffindor common room, hoping desperately that Harry and Ginny would be there. Thankfully, they were engaged in a fierce wizard's chess match on the floor near the portrait hole. I passed along the wonderful news in a whisper, and the three of us exchanged pleased smiles. Ron and Hermione were going to be friends again. Maybe even more than that, one day. Until that day, though, friends was a vast improvement. Friends was enough.

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

When I arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast on Monday morning, I was the first student there. Hagrid was there already, though, and he waved cheerfully when he saw me.

"Mornin', Lucy!" he called from the staff table. "Excited about Care of Magical Creatures, are yeh?"

I nodded emphatically. "Of course! You know I always am! I've been here in the castle among humans for too long. I need the company of creatures as soon as possible."

"Well, I know of several who will be very happy to see you," he said with a wink. "I've just finished, so I'll meet yeh down there!"

I smiled as I hurriedly filled my plate. As soon as I was finished, I jumped up and practically jogged all the way down to Hagrid's hut.

"Good morning, Hagrid! Good morning, Fang! And good morning to you handsome boy!" I scooped Tuck up off the floor and buried my face against his fur. "I missed you."

"Rough weekend, wasn't it?" Hagrid asked.

"Mhm," I replied, not removing my face from Tuck's fur as I held him tighter. He seemed to understand just how desperately I needed his cuddles and kindly did not try to lick my face, instead just deflating in my arms with a contented sigh. "Good boy, Tuck. I love you."

"It's just terrible, all this new security, an' kids are still gettin' hurt," Hagrid grumbled. "Dumbledore's worried sick. He doesn' say much, but I can tell."

"I know he's been tight-lipped with Harry and me about everything, but do you think he has any ideas about who's behind it all?" I asked.

"I suspect he's got hundreds of ideas, brain like his, but he doesn' know who sent that necklace nor put poison in that wine, or they'd've been caught, wouldn' they? Wha' worries me is how long Hogwarts can stay open if kids are bein' attacked. Chamber o' Secrets all over again, isn' it? There'll be panic, more parents takin' their kids out of school, an' nex' thing yeh know the board o' governors'll be talkin' about shuttin' us up fer good. I mean, it's always been a bit of a risk sendin' a kid ter Hogwarts, hasn't it? You expect accidents with hundreds of underage wizards all locked up together, but attempted murder, tha's different. No wonder Dumbledore's angry with Snape — " Hagrid stopped abruptly, looking guilty.

"Look, Hagrid, I'm sorry, I know you won't want to answer this, but why is Dumbledore angry with Snape?" I asked, desperate. "I promise I won't get you in any trouble with anyone, it's just — Harry and I have reason to suspect that Dumbledore is putting too much trust in Snape, and when we tried to bring it up, Dumbledore just got defensive and shut us down. Please, we'd both feel better knowing why exactly Dumbledore's angry with Snape, because nobody is really listening to us when we express our concerns."

"I shouldn't have heard it at all! I — well, I was comin' outta the Forbidden Forest the other evening an' I overheard them talking — well, arguing. Didn't want ter draw attention to myself, so I sorta skulked an' tried not ter listen, but it was a — well, a heated discussion an' it wasn' easy ter block it out. And, well, I jus' heard Snape sayin' Dumbledore took too much fer granted an' maybe he — Snape — didn' wan' ter do it anymore."

"Do you know what exactly he didn't want to do anymore?"

"I don't know, it sounded like Snape was feelin' a bit overworked, that's all."

"But Snape's always wanted the DADA job," I mused, "so there's no reason for him to be complaining now, after he finally got his wish, for whatever dumb reason. Anyway, sorry Hagrid, you can continue."

"Dumbledore told him flat out he'd agreed ter do it an' that was all there was to it. Pretty firm with him. An' then he said somethin' abou' Snape makin' investigations in his House, in Slytherin. There's nothin' strange abou' that, though, all the Heads o' Houses were asked ter look inter that necklace business."

I nodded slowly. "But I doubt he's arguing with the other Heads of Houses."

"Look, I know how Harry is about Snape, and you too apparently, so I don' want the two of yeh readin' more into this than there is," Hagrid said.

"I understand why you're worried about that, but at the same time, if there's an active Death Eater, or two, or more, within the walls of Hogwarts, it's for the best that Harry and I know as much as possible. Since no one seems to want to listen to us," I added darkly. I sighed. "But thank you for telling me, Hagrid. Dumbledore's attitude every time we ask about Snape has been... frustrating, to say the least. Feeling misunderstood is never fun."

Hagrid echoed my sigh. "Yeah, I s'pose the two of us know more about that feelin' and how it can bring yeh down more than most people. Three of us, if we're countin' Harry, fer a different reason."

"I reckon he should be included, being the 'Chosen One' and all," I replied with a small smile. "Anyway, that's enough of that, I'd like to go learn about creatures and forget about human affairs for a while."

"Tha's what I'm here for!" Hagrid said. "Reckon the porlocks would cheer yeh up?"

I immediately headed for the door. "Yes, Merlin yes, let's go."

The porlocks did in fact cheer me up, so much so that I returned several times to visit over the course of the week. Quidditch had lost a great deal of its appeal, with Cormac McLaggen suddenly on the team. He seemed to think having two captains wasn't enough, and he constantly tried to assert himself as a third. With the Quidditch Pitch no longer available as the haven it had otherwise always been, I found myself making my way down to Hagrid's every chance I got to grab Tuck and wander around the Magical Creatures Reserve, usually spending the most time with the porlocks because they were Tuck's favorite creatures. Whenever I returned to the castle, I'd stop by the Hospital Wing to visit Ron, then proceed up to the seventh floor to train my magic more before returning to my dormitory, always long enough after curfew that I knew the other girls would be asleep. Ron pretended to be asleep every time Lavender tried to visit him, but Hermione always found him awake and very willing to talk to her. I wasn't sure if Hermione knew of Lavender's failures or if Lavender knew of Hermione's successes, but I really didn't want to find out. I just needed to keep my head above water long enough to do well in Saturday's match, especially with McLaggen ruining the team's morale despite the best effort of us co-captains to keep everyone else's heads above water too.

When Saturday morning dawned, I was already awake. I considered heading down to Hagrid's to visit him and the dogs, or down to the Hospital Wing to visit Ron, but I realized I wasn't really in the mood for company and holed up in my bed instead, working on the homework I had originally been planning to save for after the match. I made my way down to breakfast once I finished one of my essays to find Cormac sitting next to Dennis, talking so animatedly that he seemed to be unaware of how pale Dennis was.

I grabbed a plate from the end of the table and marched over to the boys.

"Good morning! Mind if I slide in here?" I asked brightly, sitting between Cormac and Dennis without waiting for an answer. "Don't let me interrupt your conversation, though!"

"I was just telling Dennis that he has to watch out for Bludgers, more so than your average Chaser does," Cormac said.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Really? Why is that?"

"Because our Beaters are girls, of course," he replied, as if that should be obvious. "Historically, the best Beaters have been men. Ludo Bagman, for instance. He played for the — "

"The Wimbourne Wasps, yes, I'm aware," I interrupted. Rage burned hot in the pit of my stomach, but I forced a smile. "Tell me, Cormac, have you ever heard why he stopped playing Quidditch and started working for the Ministry instead?"

"Er — he retired? I thought that was obvious. He won three championships for the Wasps — "

"He 'retired' before word could spread that he was a cheater, actually."

Cormac blinked, looking offended. "That's a load of rubbish."

"I'm afraid not. You're in the Slug Club despite not having any true achievements to your name, so you must have connections within the Ministry. Surely you've heard by now that Ludo Bagman has something of a gambling problem."

"I — er — I know that, yes. I heard that he pays people off with fake money a lot of the time, and he goes out of his way to find loopholes when he loses a bet."

"That's what he does nowadays, yes, when he has very little control over the situation in which he's gambling. Did you ever hear about how his gambling problem really started, though?"

Cormac only offered me a blank stare.

"I guess not!" I said in the same bright tone. "I can explain it to you, then! Well, a lot of people doubted that the Wasps would be able to win the championship three times in a row, considering they were up against the Montrose Magpies that third year. The night before that third championship that the Wasps won, Ludo Bagman got drunk and bet a whole bunch of people a whole lot of money that they'd win. He realized the next morning that he had been overconfident, and he panicked, so he paid off his brother Otto to acquire him a bit of Felix Felicis to ensure the win. Felix Felicis is — "

"I know what Felix Felicis is," Cormac snapped. He puffed his chest defensively and narrowed his eyes at me. "Even if what you're saying is true, how did you hear about this? How am I supposed to trust you? Ludo Bagman didn't need liquid luck to win that championship, he'd already won two, that's preposterous."

I smiled wider. "I have friends who were victims of one of Ludo Bagman's corrupted bets, and they did a bit of digging into his past. Otto and Ludo have been doing favors for each other for quite a long time, as they discovered when they investigated why Ludo was so willing to offer something as generous as Top Box Quidditch World Cup tickets to the person that helped Otto out of trouble. Anyway, back to my story. Ludo took the Felix Felicis, played his best match ever, and reaped the rewards. A couple of people were suspicious of just how stellar Ludo's performance was, so he retired before anyone could look too closely at it. He got addicted to gambling after that wild first success, but soon learned that gambling successfully was much harder when you couldn't just take Felix Felicis and win by default — not that he didn't try. He blew his Quidditch fortune on Felix Felicis, buying more and more of it when the stakes were higher and higher, disproportionate to the actual stakes because he was so paranoid, until he was broke and had to resort to, as you already know, fake money and loopholes. All this to say, Ludo Bagman is a terrible example, if you're trying to prove your point that men are historically better Beaters, because one-third of his statistical success was earned with Felix Felicis. Maybe it's true that he didn't need liquid luck to perform that well in that match, but we'll never know, will we?"

"But if you look back hundreds of years at who the most successful Beaters have been — "

"So you're just ignoring the fact that the Holyhead Harpies only allow women on the team because every other team in the league is notorious for not hiring women?" I challenged. "How on earth are women supposed to be famously successful Beaters if there tend to only be two at a time in the entire league? And on top of that, think about someone like Gwenog Jones, who's already secured her spot on the Welsh National Team for the Quidditch World Cup next year. She's proven that given a fair chance to succeed, women can perform as well as men. She's performing better than most men in the league, even."

"Well, you're not Gwenog Jones," Cormac said.

"Yeah, nice to meet you, my name is Lucy, actually. I'm not Gwenog Jones, but I bet I could be if I wanted to be. Ginny could be Gwenog Jones, too. Ginny could be even better, I reckon." I turned to Dennis, who was looking at me with wide eyes. "Don't worry, Dennis, Ginny and I work very hard to keep the rest of the team safe. Unlike Cormac, who was invited to the Slug Club because of his last name, I was invited to the Slug Club because of how well I played as a Beater in the last Quidditch match. I can't promise that you'll be perfectly safe, because Quidditch is dangerous and accidents happen, but I can promise that Ginny and I will do our very best to keep you safe, okay?"

"Okay," he said, nodding.

I offered Dennis a smile before turning to Cormac and dropping the smile. "As for you, Cormac, I'd appreciate it if you stopped interfering with the team. You are only playing in this match at all because Ron was accidentally poisoned. Ginny and I are perfectly capable and competent Beaters. If you really think men who play Beater are better than women who play Beater, it might comfort you to know that Ginny and I were trained by Fred and George Weasley. You shouldn't think that, though, because, historically, Ginny and I have proven ourselves to be the better Beaters. If you've actually been paying attention to the Gryffindor Quidditch matches the past few years, surely you would realize that nobody on the team has gotten injured when Ginny and I have bats in our hands, and the same can't be said for the matches where Fred and George were the Beaters. Kindly keep your opinions to yourself from here on out, especially when your arguments are stupid and just plain incorrect as well as sexist."

"I'll prove it to you," Cormac grumbled. "Men make better Beaters than women. They're stronger, and faster, and — "

I rolled my eyes and turned my back entirely to Cormac to talk to Dennis. "How's third year treating you, Dennis?"

"It's been alright, I guess," he said, glancing over my shoulder. "I don't think McLaggen is very happy with you. I think you're good Beaters, though. Colin said so. He photographs all the matches, injuries included. I can't believe you played with a broken nose when you were even younger than I am now!"

"I don't recommend it," I replied with a laugh. "I promise I'll do my best to make sure that never happens to you. I kind of feel like it's my life's mission to protect people, that's why the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor, so trust me when I say the safety of everyone on the team means a lot to me."

Dennis lowered his voice to a whisper. "Even McLaggen?"

"Even McLaggen. For today, at least. Now go on, eat up, we have a match to win."

Harry stopped by the Great Hall briefly to grab a muffin and an apple before going to visit Ron in the Hospital Wing before the match. Once the rest of the team was done eating, we all made our way down to the lockers together. Ginny, Demelza, and I braided each other's hair and rolled our eyes at Cormac's snide comments about how men were better Quidditch players because they needn't worry about something like their hair getting in their faces and that they'd find a better solution than braiding it back even if they did have long hair. He shut up once Dean offered to hit him with a hair growth spell, if he was really that confident what he was saying. Ginny kissed Dean hard on the mouth for that, which made me realize Harry still hadn't arrived.

Finally, mere minutes before the match started, Harry sprinted in and started changing.

Ginny and I converged on him.

"Where have you been?" I asked. "Is everything okay?"

"I met Malfoy," he replied in a low voice.

Ginny huffed. "So?"

"So I wanted to know why he's up at the castle with a couple of girlfriends while everyone else is down here watching the match — "

"Harry — " I sighed. "Well, did you learn anything?"

"Does that really matter right now?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I'm not likely to find out, am I?" Harry straightened up. "Who's giving the speech, Lu?"

"I got it." I jumped up onto a bench. "I'll keep this short and sweet since we don't have much time. Based on the commentary of Zacharias Smith when we played Slytherin, it's clear that Hufflepuff doesn't think much of what we've been able to accomplish this year. Let's go play a match that makes Smith and anyone who agreed with him regret everything he said, yeah?"

"Yeah!" the team echoed back at me, everyone except Cormac.

I tossed my bat back and forth between my hands, glaring at him. "We've all got something to prove this match. Let's go!"

When we marched onto the Pitch, Harry and me in the lead, we were met with mingled cheers and boos.

"McLaggen looks like he wants to murder you," Harry muttered. "Did something happen when I was gone?"

"He thinks that men make better Beaters than women. We argued."

Harry's face contorted with anger. "In the interest of not getting kicked off the Quidditch team again, I won't punch him here and now, but the second we win this match, I will." He clapped a firm hand on my shoulder. "Make him regret everything he said."

"I plan to," I said brightly, sending a sweet smile at Harry. "Have a good match, Potter. See you on the other side."

He smiled back at me as he kicked off into the air. We'd decided early on that we'd take turns being the one to shake hands with the opposing team's captain, and I'd called dibs on the Hufflepuff match.

I met Zacharias in the middle of the Pitch, fury coursing through my veins. It was going to be a memorable match, I could feel it.

Before we could shake hands, a pleasant voice filled the stadium.

"Gryffindor Co-Captain Lucy Diggory is currently approaching Hufflepuff Captain Zacharias Smith on the field to shake hands," Luna said in that lovely tone of polite detachment that she almost always used. I hadn't known she would be commentator — it was going to be a memorable match, I could feel it in my bones. "Lucy is smiling, but her aura is radiating scarlet, meaning she is very angry. Smith is looking at her like she is a piece of chewing gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, which is not very nice, because the chewing gum would not be there if he had not been so careless as to step on it in the first place instead of safely depositing it in a rubbish bin."

"Good luck," I said in an overly-cheerful voice as we shook hands. As much as I wanted to squeeze his hand harder than necessary, I refrained.

"Er, yeah, you too," he replied.

When the match started, I tried to tune everything out, but Luna's commentary was simply too entertaining.

"And that's Smith of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle. He did the commentary last time, of course, and Ginny Weasley flew into him, I think probably on purpose, it looked like it. Smith was being quite rude about Gryffindor, I expect he regrets that now that he's playing them. Oh, look, he's lost the Quaffle, Dennis Creevey of Gryffindor snuck up behind him and punched it out of his hands into the hands of Demelza Robins. That play reminds me of something Lucy Diggory did when she played Chaser. She plays Beater now with Ginny Weasley, I like them, they are both very kind. Let's see, where are they? Oh, look, Ginny is over by the Hufflepuff Keeper and hitting a Bludger at him, I think she is trying to help Demelza score. Oh no, that will not be necessary, the big Hufflepuff Chaser knocked the Quaffle out, I think his name is something like Bibble, or Buggins — "

"It's Cadwallader!" Professor McGonagall announced, making everyone laugh.

"Cadwallader scores a goal on the Gryffindor Keeper, who was yelling at Demelza for losing the Quaffle. That was a silly mistake to make, he was distracted and let the Quaffle in. And now Harry Potter is yelling at his own Keeper. I am not sure how that will help him find the Golden Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse. Oh, now he is looking for the Snitch again, but he still looks put-out. If Ron Weasley was here, that would not have happened. I am sure everyone misses him very much and hopes he gets better soon. Lucy is nodding enthusiastically at me and smiling, hi Lucy! She is now flying very fast at a Bludger and knocking it away from Dean to send it in the direction of Cadwallader. That was a very strong hit, Cadwallader looked scared when I said that the Bludger was heading toward him. He only barely got out of the way in time. Dean has now scored a goal, making the score 10 to 10. Has anyone else noticed how beautiful the clouds are today? There is one over there that looks like a bird. There is another one directly above me that looks like the letter B if you squint. Oh, the crowd is cheering, I wonder why! It appears that the crowd is cheering because Demelza has scored a goal, making the score 20 to 10, unless someone else scored while I was looking at the clouds. Ginny and Lucy are swinging their bats together! What a beautiful display of teamwork! Oh, Lucy just shouted at me that it's called a Dopplebeater Defense. I like that name. Another name I really like is Vilhemina. When my father and I were in Sweden over summer hunting for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, we met a lovely woman named Vilhemina. She said her name means 'determined protector.' That kind of reminds me of how Lucy and Ginny are playing this game, they are very determined protectors of their team. Look, there goes Ginny now, she is hitting a Bludger away from Dean. Ginny and Dean are girlfriend and boyfriend, so that is a very nice thing of her to do. I am not interested in having a girlfriend or a boyfriend myself, but Ginny and Dean seem very happy together so I am very happy for them. I wonder if Smith looks so angry because he does not have a girlfriend or a boyfriend. Oh! Maybe he is suffering from Loser's Lurgy! He threw the Quaffle very angrily at the Gryffindor Keeper, who kicked it away easily. Demelza tried to catch it, but dropped it and it landed in the hands of Mary Fraser, who plays Chaser for Hufflepuff. Mary sits next to me in Potions, she has a delightful sense of humor — oh, the Gryffindor Keeper is yelling at Demelza again — Hufflepuff scores again, Mary sent the Quaffle through the center hoop — I'm not quite sure what the score is — "

"70-40, with Hufflepuff in the lead!" Professor McGonagall called irritably.

I hit the Bludger nearest to me directly downward, hoping to confuse it enough to buy me time to go tell Cormac off.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" I roared as I soared over to McLaggen. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WERE TOO BUSY YELLING AT HER FOR MAKING A MISTAKE THAT YOU'VE LET A GOAL IN, TWICE! SHUT UP AND FOCUS ON YOUR OWN GAME, FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN! NOW MOVE, THERE'S A BLUDGER COMING UP BEHIND YOU!"

"NO!" Cormac's face was as red as his robes. "I DON'T NEED A GIRL — "

Rather than moving out of the way so I could smack the Bludger away from him, however, McLaggen reached forward, snatched the bat from my hands, and hit the Bludger himself. It narrowly missed me, and I whirled around to see where it had ended up.

To my horror, the Bludger connected with Harry's head.

I didn't have a second to waste. I hurtled forward with all of the speed I could muster on my Nimbus 2001 prototype, pushing myself faster faster faster faster faster —

"ARRESTO MOMENTUM!" I shouted.

My magic cracked through the air, and Harry's fall slowed considerably, giving me just enough time to fly under him and pull him onto my broom in front of me. I peered over his shoulder at the small figure of Madam Pomfrey, rushing out onto the grass. I headed toward her as fast as I could, one hand on my broom and one holding Harry in place.

"I've got you, it's going to be okay, my love, I promise, I've got you, I've got you, I've got you, I've got you," I whispered as we approached.

I landed on the grass in front of Madam Pomfrey and helped load Harry onto a stretcher she had summoned.

"TIME OUT!" I called toward the commentary box, cupping my hands over my mouth. "THE REMAINING GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH CAPTAIN CALLS A TIME OUT!"

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the team flew down to where I was standing with Harry and Madam Pomfrey, who was moving her wand over his still form.

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked.

Madam Pomfrey nodded as she muttered a spell I didn't recognize. "He's going to be perfectly okay. I reckon he's going to be unconscious for a few hours, though, and even if he happens to wake up sooner, he should not be joining the game again. He's coming to the Hospital Wing with me."

I stared at Harry, pale and unmoving on the levitating stretcher, feeling like I was going to be sick. I wanted nothing more than to jump on the stretcher with him and stay there right by his side until he woke up, but I was Quidditch Captain. There was a match we still had to play. No. There was a match we still had to win.

I reached forward and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.

With that, Madam Pomfrey started moving him away, and I turned back to the team.

"What's the game plan now, Lucy?" Ginny asked.

I inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly.

"If we want to win this match, we need to gain a lead of 160 points and maintain that until Summerby catches the Snitch. So Demelza, Dennis, Dean, keep doing what you're doing, Hufflepuff is only up by three goals."

Dennis gulped. "So we need to score nineteen goals before they catch the Snitch?"

"More than nineteen, because I'm assuming they're going to score more," Dean said with a grimace.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at McLaggen, who was looking embarrassedly down at his shoes. "No, they won't score more, because McLaggen is going to do his own damn job. Not mine. Not anyone else's. He's made enough of an arse out of himself without ruining the game for us further. Give me my bat back." Once he did so, I turned to Ginny and sighed. "Truthfully, I think we're going to have the hardest job. Our top priority obviously is protecting our team — well, what's left of it, thanks to you, McLaggen. One of us should keep an eye on Summerby at all times too, since he's Seeker and we need to stop him from catching the Snitch until we're 160 points up. The other one of us should do, well, everything else. Target their Chasers. Target their Keeper when our Chasers are in goal-scoring territory."

"What about the Hufflepuff Beaters?" Dennis asked.

"If we play our game right, whatever Bludgers they manage to hit won't be any threat whatsoever," I replied with a grim smile. "Don't worry about that. Which job do you want, Gin, targeting Summerby or targeting the rest of Hufflepuff?"

"You're the Captain," she said, shrugging. "Which do you think I'd do best? Which job do you want, which do you think you'd do best?"

"I reckon targeting Hufflepuff is the harder job, but targeting Summerby is the more important one," Demelza said. "Do you think our remaining Captain — thanks for that one, McLaggen — should have the harder job or the more important one?"

"One minute remaining in the timeout!" Luna announced.

"Alright, Ginny, stay here for a second, the rest of you should get up there. We can still win this!" I straightened up and grinned as encouragingly as I could at the three Chasers. Once they'd kicked up, I sighed and tossed my bat over my shoulder. "I'll target the Hufflepuff Chasers and Keeper. That'll keep me busy enough that I won't be tempted to send a retaliatory Bludger at McLaggen."

Ginny snorted. "Fair enough. Don't worry, Lucy, Harry's going to be okay."

"McLaggen won't be by the time I'm done with him. After we win." I clapped Ginny on the shoulder. "Good luck, Weasley."

"It's an honor to serve you, Captain Diggory!" she replied with a cheerful salute as she mounted her broom and soared upward.

I inhaled. Exhaled. Mounted my broom. Inhaled. Exhaled. Started flying up. Inhaled. Exhaled. Nodded at Luna to show I was ready. Inhaled. Exhaled.

The game recommenced, but something in the air had shifted. I tuned out Luna's commentary entirely. I needed to protect what was left of my team, so I couldn't afford to be distracted by her, as entertaining as her commentary had been. Ginny and I didn't banter as we often did, either. We exchanged brief glances and nods whenever we happened to pass each other, but we were both far too focused on our own missions.

In the past, I had relied on Rule #10 of The Mischief Managers' Guide to Playing Beater to dictate my playing style: Focus on defending your teammates before attacking your opponents. As someone who constantly thought about the safety of everyone around her, that came naturally to me, far more naturally than Rules #5 and #6 (Be big. Unapologetically. Be bold. Unapologetically. Yes, even you, Lucy.) In the past, I had used that rule as an excuse to focus solely on defending my teammates. In the past, I had just worried about hitting Bludgers away from my teammates, not really caring where they ended up as long as they stayed far away from the people I needed to protect. The only time I ever sent a Bludger at an opponent was when the Bludger was already a safe distance from my teammates and the opponent posed a threat to our victory. In the past, I'd played the pacifist, preferring defense to offense. Ginny preferred offense to defense, so it was just as well, really.

In that match, though, I suddenly had to do both at once in equal measure, balance both defense and offense. I had to hit Bludgers away from my teammates at my opponents.

It wasn't as hard as I'd expected. In the past, the mental obstacle of not wanting to hurt the other team would have stopped me from actually targeting anyone unless absolutely necessary for the win. After watching Harry get hit with a Bludger, though, I was surprised to discover how little I cared all of a sudden. Harry had been hit directly in the head, and just one healing spell from Madam Pomfrey meant that he'd be fine. Surely anyone I hit with a Bludger would be fine, too.

Besides, they were Hufflepuffs. Henry wasn't on the Hufflepuff team anymore, meaning that none of my opponents had ever offered me any comfort in the depths of my grief, never even tried. Zacharias Smith went so far as to actively cut old wounds open and laugh as I bled. He was the worst of the lot, and unluckily for him that day, he was a Chaser, and I was a Beater.

When the Hufflepuff Chasers tried to use a Parkin's Pincer — with Mary Fraser on the left, Bleddyn Cadwallader on the right, Zacharias Smith coming up behind, and Dean sandwiched in the middle — I saw my opportunity. I raced to the nearest Bludger and sent it flying at Zacharias, who had started to reach out toward Dean.

It hit its mark, as evidenced by the loud crack and even louder scream that rent the air. His right hand was not even visible from my vantage point high above him, because his right arm was broken so badly it was dangling downward.

I didn't have any time to relish in the small amount of sadistic satisfaction I felt in that moment, because the Bludger had recovered and was hurtling toward Dean. I dove toward the ground in a nose dive and smacked the Bludger in the direction of the Hufflepuff Keeper. He dodged it, but at the cost of yet another goal.

Zacharias, in the midst of his screaming, managed to say "TIME OUT!" so after that goal, I landed and gestured for the team to join me.

I hadn't even realized how out of breath I was until I tried to speak.

"What's — the score?" I panted as Ginny approached.

"We're up — 90 to 80," she replied, also panting as she shook her arms out. "What just happened?"

Dennis was laughing so hard he almost toppled off his broom. "I saw the whole thing! Lucy, that was wicked! She nearly took Smith's hand off! He tried to steal the Quaffle from Dean, the Hufflepuff Chasers were in a Parkin's Pincer around him, but then Lucy hit his forearm and it snapped in half!"

"Smith throws right-handed, so he's going to be useless unless someone on his team can heal him up!" Demelza said, eyes glowing as she smiled at me. "That was a brilliant shot! We really might win this, if they're down a Chaser!"

"Just keep — doing what you're doing," I said to the Chasers with a smile, sucking in lungfuls of air in between words since I'd been afforded a break by my lucky shot. "You're doing brilliantly, you've — scored five goals to their one." I turned to McLaggen and nodded. "Good job to you, too — you've only let one in." Before he could reply, I turned to Ginny and lifted my hand for a high five. Rather than high-fiving, though, we ended up just locking fingers and holding on tight. "We can do this."

Ginny grinned. "If we can keep this game going past sundown, we'll have an advantage over the other Beaters. I doubt they've ever trained together in the middle of the night."

"If that's what it takes, we can do it," Demelza said, squaring her shoulders with determination. "I know I for one didn't appreciate Smith's commentary last match, and even though he's most likely out of the match now, I'd still really like to win, for everyone who should be here with us but isn't."

"And for us," I added with a nod. Breathing was becoming easier by the second. "If there's one thing I learned last year, it's — that you have to be willing to fight for yourself, too. I know I'm ready to fight for myself, and — for all of us. For Gryffindor. We're Gryffindors, damn it! Winning this game isn't going to be an easy fight, but when has anything ever been easy for us? When have we ever let that stop us? Why would we start now?"

Ginny's grin grew wider and wider as she squeezed my hand harder and harder. "Lucy's right! Come on, let's win this!"

"For Katie," Demelza said.

"And Ron," Ginny added.

"And for Harry!" Dennis exclaimed.

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, yes, for Katie, and for Ron, and for Harry, and for who else?"

"For Gryffindor!" Dean shouted.

"For who else?" I asked, dramatically lifting my free hand to my ear.

"FOR GRYFFINDOR!" everyone else except McLaggen yelled.

I grinned. "That's what I like to hear. Now, one more time, just in case there are people in those stands and on this Pitch who still doubt us... who are we winning this match for?"

That time, McLaggen joined the shout, and so did I.

"FOR GRYFFINDOR!" we roared.

The Gryffindors in the stands heard our rallying cry and joined the shout. Naturally, the non-Gryffindors in the stands responded to that positive outcry with a large amount of booing, but that just made us all the more determined to win. We all mounted our brooms and kicked up into the sky. Zacharias did not join his team in the sky, but he refused to go to the Hospital Wing either, opting instead to position himself in the middle of the field and shout plays from the grass.

Fortunately for us, Zacharias was using the same plays Henry had used the year prior.

Fortunately for us, Henry had used Cedric's plays from the plans he'd drawn up in the summer of 1994.

Fortunately for us, Cedric and I had learned our plays from the same magazines, the same professional matches on the radio, the same books, the same experiences together as children.

Fortunately for us, I had taught my team all of the same plays, with the same names.

I couldn't help but grin. Memorable match, indeed.

I tuned out Luna's commentary once again, but only so I could listen to Zacharias. I didn't want to hit anyone else with a Bludger unless absolutely necessary — Mary had always been sweet to me, and Bleddyn had been one of the biggest supporters of Remus back when he had been just Professor Lupin, and knocking the Keeper out was a dirty move — but that didn't mean I couldn't hit the Bludgers close enough to the Chasers to interrupt their game or close enough to the Keeper to allow our Chasers to score. Every time Zacharias called out a play, our brilliant Chasers were able to anticipate how the formation would take shape and make well-educated allowances for how it could be different with two Chasers instead of three. In the moments that they needed an extra hand, I'd send a Bludger in the direction of a Hufflepuff as a distraction that would buy my Chasers the couple of seconds they needed in order to turn a good play into a great one.

The gap between our score and theirs increased slowly but surely, as Ginny informed me every time we passed in the air since I hadn't known when we'd had our last time-out. Zacharias being out of commission meant that their goal-scoring was hindered, but our Chasers were getting fatigued too as the hours dragged on.

Just when I was beginning to worry that Ginny's joking comment about playing past dark was prophetic, Demelza scored three goals in rapid succession, making the score 300-150 in our favor.

The end of the game was in sight. We just had to stop Hufflepuff from scoring again, score one more ourselves, and let Summerby catch the Snitch.

I hazarded a glance at Summerby for the first time all game. He looked as ready to end the match as we were, even if it meant losing. As I was watching, his eyes lit up. He must have seen the Snitch.

I returned my attention to the Chasers to discover that those two seconds had cost me. Dennis had the Quaffle, and he was zooming toward the Hufflepuff goal posts with Demelza and Dean on his tail. Mary and Bleddyn were closing in, though, and they were certainly going to catch up to Dennis.

One of the Hufflepuff Beaters was winding up, his eyes locked on Dennis.

I hurtled forward. My responsibility was to protect my team. By the time the Beater hit the Bludger, it would be moving too fast for me to hit it effectively back at him, I was at a terrible angle. My responsibility was to protect my team. He hit the Bludger well, and it was headed right for Dennis. My responsibility was to protect my team. I wouldn't be able to beat it away from Dennis in time from that angle, meaning it would certainly hit him, unless...

My responsibility was to protect my team.

I aimed myself in between Dennis and the Bludger and put on a burst of speed.

The Bludger slammed into my right arm with so much force I heard my ribs crunch too.

Through the haze of white-hot pain that flooded my body, I heard Luna, wonderful Luna, say two wonderful words: "Gryffindor wins!"

Ginny got to me first, flying up on my left side. "We did it! We — are you okay?"

"She just got hammered by a Bludger," Cormac said, reaching me second, "I saw it. It was going to hit Dennis but Lucy got in its way. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I choked out. I forced myself to smile when I saw Dennis approaching, beaming, with Dean and Demelza close behind him.

"I did it, I scored the game-winning goal, I actually did it!" he exclaimed.

"Good job, Dennis! Good job, everyone!" I nodded, trying to keep smiling even as black dots danced across my vision. I kept trying to suck in as much air as I could, but breathing hurt. "We fought hard. We won. We..." The black dots became a black fog, the world slowly faded from view. "I think I need to land before I pass out."

With that, I shot straight down toward the ground, leveled myself out at the last second, touched down, and toppled off my broom, the world going black before I even hit the grass.