With a Little Help from My Friends

Come Together

Later that evening Veronica would marvel at her quick thinking, but now she didn't have the time. "Molly, Minerva, on the count of three we all do a levitating charm," she ordered. "One, two, three - Wingardium Leviosa!"

Under the combined power of the three senior girls' charms the car slid free and floated carefully down until it was several feet above the floor, then, the charm losing effect, crashed down upon the teacher's table. For a moment all were silent, then Mr Mustard said dryly, "Alfred, I believe you were about to introduce the Head Boy."

"Ah, yes," Headmaster Kyte recovered remarkably quickly. "Arthur Weasley, will you please step out of that vehicle and made yourself known to the rest of the school?"

Veronica and Molly gaped at each other. Arthur was climbing out of the now-badly-battered Sacred Blue, his face almost blending into his hair with embarrassment. Minerva looked as though steam would start pouring out of her nostrils at any minute.

"Arthur, along with Minerva, has been a Gryffindor prefect for the last two years," Headmaster Kyte continued mildly, as if Beetles crashing through the main window of the Great Hall were as regular as owl deliveries. "Since they have both led by example and accomplished more than just the call of duty, it is only fitting that they should ascend to the next level in the ladder of responsibilities. Let's all do our best to ensure that they have a productive year and start them on their way with a round of applause."

Veronica and Molly's enthusiasm was somewhat out of place in the muted clapping that followed, their fellow students no doubt still in shock from Arthur's spectacular entrance. "So that's why Lucius got so shitty when I mentioned Arthur on the train," Molly whispered to her friend. "Lucille told me that he was using all of his family's influence - not to mention their bribing and blackmailing - to get that position himself. And with that influence he probably already knew that Arthur had got the title."

"Yet another reason why I love Arthur," Veronica responded. "Malfoy must be furious. Parading pompous git." She wolf-whistled and sat down quickly before Minerva or any of the teachers located its source.

"Do you think Lucille knew Arthur had been made Head Boy?" Molly asked. "Did you? I certainly didn't."

"Negative to both of those," Veronica shook her head. She had seen the faces of the Sacred Blue's other passengers as Kyte made his announcement, with Thierry's being the only one that had not shown complete surprise. "Thierry may have known - understandable since he's Arthur's best friend - but Lucille was most definitely in the dark. Ooh, she looks mad." Lucille had shaken off the hand Thierry had held out to help her out of the car and was stalking towards the Gryffindor table, head held high. The Frenchman caught her eyes then rolled his, and she gave him a what can you do, it's just Lucille shrug.

"She always thinks she's being left out of things," Molly agreed, but became silent once Lucille had reached the table. She saw Professor Dumbledore at long last performing the leg-locking counter curse on poor Frank. Arthur was about to join them, but Professor Mustard grasped his arm and mouthed something to him that looked like, "Detention." Arthur nodded grimly and left.

The actual sorting ceremony itself was somewhat muted and anti-climatic after that. To her sisters' great relief, Elsie Morag was sorted into the scarlet and gold house, along with Ann Brown, Ian Fawcett, Ryan McDonald, Priyanka Patil (who had an older brother in Ravenclaw) and Jack Thomas. Minerva sat down the far end of the Gryffindor table, shooting glares at Arthur all the while. Molly wondered how he would take the news of the dare he had never made.

"She probably thinks he's ruined her big moment," Lucille whispered after Minerva had cast a particularly vitriolic look in Arthur's direction, then giggled. "She'd be right."

Molly laughed along with her fellow redhead. This was the Lucille she knew and loved, sharp and with a dry-as-fairy-dust sense of humour. She never understood why a girl such as Lucille, who had so much going for her, suffered such dramatic mood swings, and she probably never would. "You just have to accept people for what they are," she had told Thierry one night after he had sat at the foot of her bed for an hour complaining about a particularly scathing comment her friend had made. The trouble was that she didn't know exactly what Lucille was sometimes.

When everyone was finally seated, Headmaster Kyte once again rose to his feet. "Now, before we start," he said, and Arthur's stomach rumbled, "I have a few additional but brief announcements to make." He looked over at Arthur and beamed, almost as if he was aware of the boy's hunger. "Firstly, your caretaker Apollyon Pringle would like me to tell the first years and remind all the returning students than the Forbidden Forest is and will always be, well, forbidden." Molly could have sworn he was smiling at this last part. Pringle, a gaunt, dark-haired man, only glowered menacingly.

"The second announcement," Kyte continued, "is of special importance to those thinking of graduating soon. I have been instructed by the Ministry of Magic that in addition to completing a minimum of six NEWTs, to be a fully qualified witch or wizard, students must pass a flying exam."

There was a crash and a warm stickiness spread over Molly's arm. Lucille's goblet had dropped out of her hand and the tiny redhead was staring aghast at the teachers' table, oblivious to the pumpkin juice pouring into her lap. Frank Longbottom was also wearing an expression that suggested he had just been told Death Eaters had kidnapped his teddy bear. Molly glanced across the table and kicked Thierry, who was starting to snigger at the look on Lucille's face.

"For those of you who would feel more comfortable with additional practice, there will be tutored practices after school on Wednesdays and Fridays," Kyte continued, smiling over at Lucille. The sixth year's knuckles were white around her knife. Thierry, perhaps noticing what was in her hand, had desisted in laughing at her. "Now, for my very last words: groovy, fab, mod and tuck in, everyone." He clapped his hands and the tables were instantly swamped by platters of delicious food.

"Mashed potatoes?" Zachary Lupin, the male Gryffindor prefect who had a brother around Sirius' age, held the plate out to her.

"Don't mind if I do," she said, placing a generous helping upon her plate.

"Ey, Molly," Thierry smirked. "Nice ter see so much of yer aujourd-hui. Terrific view up so 'igh, wasn't eet Arthur?"

Molly turned bright red and giggled. Lucille looked annoyed. "Molly, just ignore the French stallion who thinks he's Merlin's gift to women," Arthur suggested. "When he's not. At all." The last part was directed more at Thierry than Molly. "He probably spent the rest of the trip planning what to say to you," Arthur continued, "going over and over the best way of delivering his precious wise-crack in that thick skull of his. Ow!" Thierry had slapped him across the back of his head.

"Did you flash somebody, Molly?" Veronica, who had been trying to make sense of the conversation, asked.

"Yes," Molly whispered.

"Oh?" Veronica merely raised one eyebrow. Like Thierry with Arthur, being friends with Molly through most of her time at Hogwarts meant that she did not shock easily. "And who was the lucky guy, pray tell?"

"It wasn't a guy," Molly said in a barely-audible squeak. "It was Minerva McGonagall."

Now Veronica was shocked. "Minerva McGonagall?" she repeated. "And what on earth possessed you to do that? More importantly, after pulling a stunt like why are you still breathing?"

"I can't believe she let you live," Lucille added.

"Well, I had just fended off a Snake when these three idiots plus their unfortunate hostage, Frank Longbottom, decided to pay me a visit in that thing of Arthur's," Molly began. At the word "thing" Arthur got a brief look in his eyes similar to the one Lucille had whenever someone made fun of her favourite foursome, but unlike Lucille remained calm. "So they're floating around outside the window when Minerva drops in. I didn't want her to see them, so I-I-"

"Showed 'er ze family jewels," Thierry finished. "Presented 'er avec yer two meilleur assets."

"Tais-toi, cochon," Lucille snapped. Thierry swung a dark-eyed glare at her. She glared back.

"So," Veronica assessed, "out of every available option, you, for some reason, decided to flash the head girl."

"I panicked!" Molly protested. "I didn't know what else to do!" Thierry and Lucille were still involved in a stare-off.

"Ah, well," Veronica shrugged, then started to giggle. "What kills me more than anything is that Longbottom was there. You must have permanently destroyed his innocence."

"Lucille covered his eyes," Molly told her.

"Not quickly enough, by the looks of things," Arthur, who had one ear on the conversation, added. "He hasn't been able to look at you once during dinner." Meanwhile, Lucille had been the first to disengage from her and Thierry's face-off and was now twirling her hair idly, as if she had broken contact not from a lack of nerve but because she simply couldn't be bothered. Thierry had not been taken in by this and was smiling quietly to himself, savouring his victory.

Veronica was enjoying an animated debate with Thierry and Holly Wood, Alexander's fourth year sister, about the Hawkshead Attacking Formation when Headmaster Kyte again clapped his hands together, this time signalling the end of the feast. Normally the responsibility of leading the first years back to the common area after dinner fell to the prefects, but with both the Head Boy and Girl being from Gryffindor, Veronica and Zachary were let off. Minerva gave Veronica a significant look as she arranged their newly-anointed housemates in a line near the Great Hall entrance, no doubt recalling their train conversation about prefects having the best of both worlds.

After a long, hot day of travelling everyone was exhausted. The first years, having been directed to their respective dormitories, went straight to bed. Older students were making to do the same but Thierry, who had been clock-watching all through dinner, leapt onto the coffee table in the centre of the room. He whipped out his wand and pointed it at his throat, crying, "Sonorus." Those students that had not stopped and stared when Thierry jumped onto the table, did so when with the voice altering charm, he started booming over the top of the common room din.

"Ladies an' gentlemen," he began, "eef I may joost 'ave un moment of yer time, s'il vous plait. As most of yer may know, I am Thierry Delacour, but as some of yer may not know, I am ze new Quidditch captain, and I consider zis position to be an 'onair. Now what I 'ave to say pertains to yer all-"

"Even us girls?" Lucille cut him off, frowning.

"Especialement vous filles," he confirmed, beaming back at her. Lucille did not respond, most likely as thrown as Molly was by Thierry's unusually good-natured reaction to her snarky comment. "Now, as yer may also be awaire, zere 'as been a division between ze girls an' ze boys when eet comes to Quidditch. Zis year I 'ope to amend zis. We 'ave not won ze Quidditch Cup pour a long time, and I want us all ter come togethair een our efforts to be victorious cette annee."

"See?" Lucille hissed to Molly, "he does want us to make a banner! He can bloody well count me out-" Molly waved her silent, eager to hear what Thierry had to say next.

"Now as I 'ave mentioned before," the tall seventh year continued, "I am proud to be ze Quidditch captain, but I am proudair still to be ze first Quidditch captain to 'ave girls on ees team." His punch line completed, he smiled and waited patiently for his words to take affect.

"You're joking," Holly breathed.

"I 'ave nevair been more serious in ma life," Thierry told her, beaming. "According to ze 'Ogwarts by-laws, zair is no officiale law stopping les filles from playin'. Eet ees at ze discretion of each 'ouse 'ead and Quidditch captain as to oo ees on the team. And since Professair Dumbledoer and I 'ave no problem with zis - in fact, I wondair why eet 'as not been done earlier - ladies, oo weel be playin' Quidditch zis year."

Veronica shrieked and ran up to the table, propelling herself into Thierry's arms with such force that the Frenchman almost lost his balance. "I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you!" she cried. Molly gave a scream and threw her arms around Holly's neck, who had started to cry. The only girl who was not either applauding Thierry or screaming out her joy was Lucille, who was watching him with an unreadable expression in her eyes.

Once the commotion had died down, seventh year Roy Connolly spoke up. "Thierry, I really hate to be the killjoy here," he said in his lilting Irish brogue, "but perhaps there's a reason why girls haven't been able to play up until now. I mean, they could get injured out there."

"An' when 'ave people evair not been injured in Quidditch?" Thierry demanded. Holly was glaring at Roy. "I mean, eet ees a dangerous sport for anyone, garcon ou fille. Zats why even Dumbledoer weel not allow firs' years to play. Besides, in a fist fight between yerself an' Veronica Vectaire, par example, oo would yer put money on?"

"Veronica!" Molly called out loyally. Several people applauded.

"She would win because I wouldn't hit her back," Roy said stoutly.

"Oui, mon garcon. Yer joost keep on tellin' yerself zat," Thierry teased. The room erupted into laughter.

"Point taken," Roy grinned. Lucille was still standing silently.

"What about a fight between Herbie Jordan and Molly Morag?" someone called out.

"Hey, words hurt, man," the petite black third year said, smiling good-naturedly.

"How about yourself and Lucille Black?" another boy cried.

The common room silenced slightly. Clearly those within their friendship group were not the only ones aware of the tension between Thierry and Lucille. "Weel, eef she was able to oose her tongue, I'd say Lucille," Thierry conceded. Even the girl in question smiled at this. "Zat ees all I 'ave to say for now. Eef oo would like ter try out for ze Quidditch team, please remain behind in ze common room."

The crowd thinned out, people still talking excitedly among themselves. Veronica glanced over at Molly and gave a "why not" shrug. Holly also remained.

Thierry once again took up his wand, this time saying, "Reducio" when he pointed it at his throat. "Now, I 'ave no doubt zat we weel 'ave a very talented team zis year," he began, "but I do 'ave concerns for ze lack of experience, due ter circumstances beyond yer control, some of yer 'ave."

By "some of yer" he obviously meant the girls. Veronica nodded, acknowledging his tact, and waited for him to continue.

"Now traditionally ze saison opener ees between ze defendin' champion, oo es Slytherin, and last year's runnairs-up." This year was the twelfth in a row that Gryffindor had held that honour. "Due to ze aggresif and dishonest nature of ze Slytherin Snakes, I 'ave decided to owl ze odair captains requestin' a friendly. Zis weel give oo some more experience prior to ze start of ze saison. Whether or not zey weel accept, I do not know. Ze decision of Dumbledoer et myself may not be as populaire everywhere."

"When do tryouts begin?" Holly asked.

"Tomorrow," Thierry replied, producing gasps from several of the room's occupants. "I know eet is vair sudden, mais nous besoins ze extraire time. Eef oo do not 'ave a broomstick, Professaire Dumbledoer weel give oo a note to borrow one of ze school's. 'Owevair, I strongly urge yer to obtain a decent one prior ter ze start of ze saison. Ze school broomsticks sont merdes."

Veronica had been around Thierry - well, more precisely, been around Thierry and Lucille together - long enough to know that merde was some sort of French swear word. Across from her Molly grinned, perhaps thinking the same thing.

There were a few more questions regarding training schedules, uniforms and team vacancies, then everyone went up to bed, leaving the three friends together. Thierry got down off his coffee table and put his arms around the two girls' shoulders. He had to lean down quite far to reach Molly. "I am ver' 'appy zat ze two of yer decided to stick around," he told them. "I couldn't do eet without yer."

"We wouldn't let you do it by yourself," Veronica said, slinging her arm around his waist and giving him a quick hug.

"Yeah, we're with you all the way, babe," Molly told him.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Veronica added.

"An' oo weel both make splendid Quidditch players," Thierry continued. "I 'ave every confidence in the team zis year. An' because avec les filles sur l'equipe, we 'ave virtually doubled our talent pool, zere ees no excuse for une mauvaise saison."

"I'll drink to that," Molly said. Veronica had said good night and was going up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. "You know," she whispered, smiling, "you and Lucille really should hang out together sometime. You have more in common than you think."

Thierry looked revolted. "As eef I would spend anymore time in ze company of cette, cette petite vache zan I would 'ave to!" he puffed. "Do yer not 'ear ze way she talks to me? Do yer not see ze way she looks at me?"

"It is precisely because of the way she looks at you that we are having this conversation," Molly said, enjoying the confusion that played out over his face. "Good night, Thierry." She left him sitting on the sofa and followed Veronica up the stairs.