The Knights Of Walpurgis

Chapter Nine: In Padfoot's Footsteps

"So, what's your big news, Hagrid?" Harry asked. He, Ginny and Ron were sitting in Hagrid's hut. Ginny was wrestling with her first ever stoat sandwich. Harry and Ron had politely declined the offer, and were instead drinking tea from Hagrid's huge mugs.

"Well, I've been going back up north recently, at the weekends, when I've 'ad a bit of time," Hagrid said, settling into his huge, creaky armchair with a sigh. "Takes a bit o' doing, course, but now that the Ministry is on our side, Dumbledore can set me up with Portkeys an' stuff. Anyway, the giants have been talking to us again. A few of 'em, anyway. Seems that they're gettin' sick of the fights. There's only a handful left now, and it's the smart ones that're surviving, 'cos they're ganging up on the big, stupid ones. Anyway, the ones I've been talking to reckon that they'd be prepared to join Dumbledore's side, if we can guarantee them safe passage after the war to somewhere they can settle down and raise a few kids."

"Where do they want go to?" Ginny asked. She had set aside her sandwich after what appeared to be one bite, and now looked as though she wanted to think about something other than the taste.

"The Himalayas, fer preference," Hagrid said.

"Why there?" Ron said. "It's cold, and there's all those Yetis to fight."

Harry looked at Ron in surprise. Once again, he found himself amazed at the wizarding world's casual acceptance of things that Muggles dismissed with barely a second thought.

"Yetis?" Hagrid laughed. "Ron, you oughter know that Yeti's nothing but a giant that's let it's hair grow a bit. 'Course, they can go wild up in the high mountains, but wild for a giant ain't that big a step, you know?"

"Hang on, what'll they find to eat in the Himalayas?" Harry asked.

"They nick animals off've farms near the mountains," Hagrid said. "And there's some wild animals that can survive around there. There's good eating on a llama or a yak, after all."

"So, will Dumbledore accept, d'you reckon?"

"Already has," Hagrid said, grinning from ear to ear. "While you lot were off on your dates yesterday-"

"I was not on a date," Ron protested.

"I was meeting Remus," Harry said. "He says hello, by the way."

Ron turned to look at Ginny, who rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Ron," she said. "I was on a date with Dean. I'm going out with your room-mate. Get used to it."

Hagrid grinned, but had the sense to hide it from Ron behind his huge mug as he took a deep draft of tea.

"Anyway," he said, setting his mug down. "They've accepted, and they're goin' to be moving down here in the next couple of months. They're going to live in the Forest for a bit, which should be nice for Grawp," he added, with a great smile.

"And, er, how is Grawp?" Ron said carefully.

"Good, good," Hagrid said. "Them ruddy centaurs have learned to leave him alone. I had the devil of a time getting all those arrowheads out from under his skin. And, of course, when the other giants come down, he'll be able to make some friends."

"Hagrid," Hary said, after digesting this idea. "I thought that the other giants didn't like Grawp because he's so small."

"Ah, well, there is that," Hagrid said. "But his English is coming along a treat, now, and besides, Dumbledore and me can keep an eye on things, don't you worry about that."

Harry tried to imagine Hagrid and Dumbledore standing between Grawp and a group of angry giants. It wasn't a very comforting image.

*

October 21^st

Dear Moony,

It was great to see you on Saturday. Sorry I've been so bad about writing, but like I said, I've been really busy this year. Hagrid says hello, by the way.

Anyway, I've let Fred and George talk me into doing something that's either really stupid, or completely brilliant. I had a big row with Hermione, and I needed to make it up to her. Of course, she wasn't talking to me, which I suppose was only fair. I had to get Ginny to help out.

To cut a long story short, I'm tricking Hermione into leaving the common room after curfew so that she can help Neville and I play a prank. I hope that after this, she'll realise that I do value her opinion, and that I do need her around. I'm just a bit thick sometimes, that's all.

Better go. I think I hear them coming. I'll let you know how we get on,

Harry

*

"I can't believe that I let you talk me into this," Hermione whispered as the three of them snuck quietly downstairs under Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Harry glanced up from the Marauder's Map with a grin, and then looked back at the worn old parchment.

"This is for Snape," he said. "You know he deserves it. Besides, think about how much Sirius would have loved doing this."

"Sirius would have loved to get into the female Prefects' bathroom as well," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah, he would," Harry agreed. "But I wouldn't ask you to something like that, Hermione."

"We'll be expelled if we're caught, Harry. I can't believe that I let you talk me into this. What do you think, Neville?"

"I think... I don't think that Professor Snape is fair to his students," Neville said. "And I'd love to see him without that sneer on his face for once," he added, grinning in a way that Harry had rarely, if ever, seen him do.

"Well, okay," Hermione sighed. "But this doesn't mean that I've forgiven you, Harry. I'm still angry with you."

"Good," Harry said. "You should be. I was an idiot, I wasn't thinking straight, and I deserve everything you do to make me face up to that. That's the deal, Hermione. Whenever I'm an idiot, whenever I don't listen to good advice, I deserve to be chased with dragons, or whatever you decide to do to me."

"Well..."

"Hermione, I need you," Harry said, stopping and turning to look at her. "I really do. I can't do this by myself. I need you to think logically. I need Ron because he always has faith in me, even when no-one else does. I need Ginny, because she always seems to be able to solve whatever problems I have. I need all of you."

Hermione let out a long breath. "It's all very well saying it, Harry. You have to mean it."

"I do. I'll try. That's why we're doing this. I owe Sirius, and Fred and George, come to that."

They stopped outside the door to the Potions dungeon.

"I'm sick of seeing people being messed about by him," Harry said, staring intently at the door. "Maybe he does good work for the Order, but that's no excuse. So I'm doing this for Sirius, for the twins, for me, and for you two as well."

"For me?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. It won't hurt you to have a little fun every now and then, you know?"

"I have fun!"

"Real fun, Hermione. With practical jokes, not books, not homework, and definitely not with Hogwarts: A History."

Hermione scowled.

"You have to admit, you're having fun being out here, so late after curfew, about to play a prank on the most hated teacher since Lockhart."

"Yes, okay," Hermione admitted. "But I'm not making a habit of this, okay?"

"Yeah, alright," Harry said. "It'll be me, Ron and Neville next time. We can do the girls Prefects' bathroom."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Harry and Neville grinned at one another.

"Why not?" Harry said. "Moaning Myrtle hangs around the boys' bathroom. Or maybe I'll bring Natalie McDonald. We can go after the Slytherins."

"Harry! She'd get you expelled!"

Harry grinned. "At least you're talking to me again."

"I think I preferred you when you were miserable all the time," Hermione replied, half smiling, half scowling.

"Well, Sirius went to all the trouble of writing me that letter. He'd be angry if I didn't at least try and cheer up."

Hermione looked away for a second, and Harry thought he heard her sniff before looking back at him. Harry realised that it was the first time that he'd made a joke about Sirius dying.

He would have wanted me to do that, he thought. He was laughing right up until he died. I guess this really is a good way of remembering him, as well as getting Hermione back on my side.

He reached out and, taking a deep breath, pushed open the door. It creaked slightly as it swung open, the room beyond lit only by the faintly shining quarter-moon barely visible behind the clouds in the night sky. Slowly, carefully, alert for any traps that Snape may have left for unwelcome intruders, Harry, Neville and Hermione crept into the room.

*

"I am sure," Snape's silky voice carried across the classroom, "that someone found this amusing. I am sure that someone put a great deal of effort into playing this... prank." Snape's displeasure at the word was evident as he glared at Harry and Neville from his position in front of their desk. "Rest assured that should I ever find out who exactly was responsible for mixing up an entire year's worth of Potions ingredients, they will be enlisted as test subjects for the most interesting concoctions that have resulted from the confusion."

Neville swallowed nervously. Harry stared fixedly ahead, trying to keep his mind blank. It had occurred to him, as soon as he had walked into Snape's class that day, that Snape's fixed glare and intimidating manner were related to his skills with Occlumency. In many cases, including when he had been caught sneaking into Hogsmeade in his third year, Snape had had the opportunity to look into his mind without Harry being aware of it. He was glad, now that he was fully responsible for Snape's latest troubles, that he was able to at least partially deflect the Potions teacher's mental probes, if necessary.

Finally, Harry raised his eyes to meet Snape's, just as the Potions master was about to turn away. For a second, the two stared at each other, but Snape did not attempt to read Harry's mind. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode back to his desk, barking orders relating to their new Potions project, re-sorting the bottles of Potions ingredients that Harry, Neville and Hermione had relabeled two nights before.

*

"I've never seen him look so mad," Ron said, as he ladled some stew onto his plate. "Not even in third year, when he couldn't catch Snuffles."

Harry grinned, and nodded. "It was Hermione's idea," he said. "We were just going to empty a bag of Wheezes into his favourite cauldron, but she thought that this would last longer."

"I reckon so," Ron said. "Shame, though. Imagine if Snape's cauldron had just exploded. We could have got rid of him."

"Ron," Hermione said. "We didn't want to cause any harm to Professor Snape. I'm still not sure that we did the right thing, either. Just think of all the work we're missing out on."

"So? What's your point?" Ron smirked, and punched Hermione lightly on the arm. "I'm telling you, Hermione, you'll go down in history for this. It has to be one of the best pranks anyone's ever managed."

"Oh, well, thank you," Hermione blushed, and stared intently at her chicken pie.

"What about us?" Neville objected, but without any real heat. "We did it too."

"Well, yeah. But Harry said that it was mostly Hermione's idea."

"Ron, Neville's right, they should both get some of the credit," Hermione said, but Harry thought that she rather liked the praise she was receiving from Ron.

"Yeah, alright," Ron said. "Good work Harry. Good work Neville."

"Cheers, Ron."

"So, what are we doing this evening?" Ron asked. "I know we've got the HA at eight, but we've got time to spare before that."

"I've got to help Bill out with something," Harry shrugged. "He said he wanted to run through something before the meeting, so I'm going up straight after I finish this."

"Really? Oh, right," Ron said. "Er, Hermione?"

Hermione looked up at him. "Yes, Ron?"

"Do you want to-"

"Hello, Ronald," Luna said, appearing suddenly behind Ron and making him jump. He looked around warily as Hermione stared back down at her pie.

"Oh, hi, Luna," Ron said. "How are you?"

"Very well. Are you doing anything after dinner? I thought that we could go for a walk on the grounds."

"Er..." Ron looked over at Hermione, who was picking intently at her dinner, as though completely unaware of the conversation going on beside her. "Well, I guess so," he said.

"Good. I'll see you after dessert, then. We can continue that discussion we were having about the Tornadoes on Saturday."

"Yeah, okay," Ron said, turning back to his dinner with a worried look as Luna walked away.

"You were talking about the Tornadoes?" Harry asked.

"Well, yeah," Ron said, poking gloomily at his stew. "It's about the only thing I could think of. I don't know anything about what she likes, she doesn't know anything about what I like, so the only thing that we could talk about was how we both think the Tornadoes are rigging the league."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the woebegone look on his friend's face.

"Look, mate, you've got to help. I don't want to hurt her feelings, but I don't want to keep hanging out with her. I mean, what if she thinks that I like her?"

"Don't you like her?"

"Well, she's okay," Ron said. "I mean, she stood up for you last year, and she's smart and that, but I don't want to be going on dates with her and all that stuff. I don't like her that way."

"Just tell her then," Harry said. "She'll probably appreciate the honesty. Trust me, it's got to be better than being mucked about," he said with feeling as he glanced across the Hall to see Cho and Michael Corner deep in discussion. For the first time since returning to Hogwarts, he stared openly at the pretty Ravenclaw girl, but realised without any surprise that there was no reaction to her.

"Maybe you're right," Ron said, bringing Harry's attention back to him. "What do you think, Hermione?"

They both turned to look in Hermione's direction, but apparently she hadn't been as interested in their conversation as they had been, for without their noticing she had got up from the table and left.

*

"I tried," Ron slumped into the chair opposite Harry later that evening. "I really did. I tried to tell her that I just wanted to be her friend, and that I wasn't interested in dating her."

"What did she say?"

"Er, well, nothing, exactly," Ron said, flushing as bright a shade of red as Harry had ever seen him. "Not right then, anyway."

Harry's brow furrowed. "What happened then?"

"Er..." Ron squirmed in his seat, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"No..." Harry said, realisation dawning.

"I didn't do anything, I swear I didn't," Ron said desperately.

"Really?"

"I swear!"

"Luna kissed you?" Harry asked, barely remembering to keep his voice down.

Ron sank his head into his hands. "What the bloody hell am I going to do?"

"Well, er..."

Ron looked up, and fixed Harry with a ferocious glare.

"You haven't the faintest idea, have you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Me either," Ron let his head drop onto the tabletop.

"Ron?" Harry asked, after a few minutes.

"What?" Ron's muffled voice came back.

"How was it?"

"Sod off, Potter."

*

Ron's frustrations grew by several orders of magnitude over the next few weeks. Luna was frequently to be found in close proximity to him, and to the house team's delight, she began arriving at Quidditch practises. Ron was so put off by her presence that he completely forgot to send anyone running laps of the school lake, leading to their shortest practises of the year. Without Ron's obsessively focused micro-management, the team was even able to master a number of Chudley Cannons' plays, and seeing this seemed to cheer Ron slightly. However, his spirits were dampened again when he, Harry and Hermione went for tea with Hagrid one afternoon and Luna invited herself along. Hagrid and Luna had a rousing conversation about creatures that Hermione seemed to think were completely non-existent, and Ron seemed to want to just be non-existent himself.

Hermione seemed to be taking a malicious pleasure in seeing Ron so disquieted. In fact, when Luna appeared from a hidden passage after Potions one day, Harry noticed Hermione discreetly holding Ron's robes to stop him dashing away. Luna stepped serenely up to the tall boy and pressed her lips briefly to his before smiling at him and taking his hand as the four of them walked to dinner. She gave Ron another kiss as she left them to sit at the Ravenclaw table, and slid smoothly into place beside Cho. Harry watched her with a grin, which faded quickly as Cho looked up and caught his eye. The pretty Chinese girl looked at Harry for a long moment with a somewhat disdainful expression on her face, and then turned back to her friends. Harry blinked, and then turned to face Ron, who had sat next to Ginny.

"Just think of what everyone would be saying if they knew how much anguish two Ravenclaw girls were causing our proud Gryffindor boys," Ginny said, patting Ron's shoulder sympathetically as she grinned impishly at Hermione.

"Two girls?" Harry asked, sitting next to Hermione.

"Luna and Ron and you and Cho," Ginny clarified.

"Cho's not causing me anguish," Harry said, frowning at the thought.

"Sure, Harry. You look at every girl that way," she grinned.

"What way?"

"Like kissing her is the best memory of your life. I saw the grin on your face, and then how put out you were when she looked right through you."

"Er, no," Harry said. "Definitely not," he added for emphasis. "I was, well..." He glanced at Ron. "I was smiling at Luna, not Cho. Sorry mate, but it is funny."

Ron just groaned. He'd been unable to offer a coherent sentence regarding Luna for some time now. Harry felt a little bad for teasing him about his problems, and tried to think of a way of making it up to him.

"Ron, how about if I have a word with Luna for you? She might listen to me."

Ron looked up, colour returning rapidly to his pale face.

"Really? You mean it?"

"You'll do no such thing," Hermione said briskly. "Ron has to sort out his own problems. If he doesn't want to be kissing Luna, then he simply has to tell her."

"I've tried!" Ron said, his cheeks flushing a deep red that Harry knew wasn't entirely his natural colouring. "Merlin's beard, haven't you seen her? She appears from nowhere, jumps me, and then either sods off again or clamps onto me like a bloody Puffskein looking for bogies."

Harry, Ginny and Hermione all winced as they thought about that analogy. Puffskeins had been one of Hagrid's more memorable lessons. Small, furry creatures, they had no limbs, but did have a tongue nearly a hundred feet in length and a particular fondness for sticking their tongue up a person's nose in a search for their favourite food. Lavender Brown had jumped high in the air when one of the little creatures had attempted to feed on her, and although they were perfectly harmless - especially compared to most of Hagrid's creatures - Lavender had nearly hexed Hagrid's entire supply of them.

Harry winced again as he imagined Luna with a long tongue, and what she might do with it.

"Well, be that as it may," Hermione said, her eyes still a little glazed over as she apparently contemplated the same image. "Ron, you're just going to have to try harder. She's only a girl, and younger than you at that. If you can't stand up to Luna Lovegood, well..."

Hermione didn't finish her sentence, instead turning back to her soup. Ron gave her a pained look before rising reluctantly and heading over to the Ravenclaw table. Harry decided that he didn't want to see his friend being kissed by Luna gain, and hurriedly left the table himself. It was only when he was halfway up the stairs to the first floor that he realised that Ginny was right behind him.

"Did she get him again?"

"I didn't stay to watch," Ginny replied. "I don't know what she sees in him."

Harry shrugged. He didn't know what Luna saw in Ron either, but felt it would be a bit treacherous to say that. "Hasn't she told you?"

"No," Ginny grumbled. "She just looks really... weird when I mention it."

"Er, weird in what way?" Harry asked. "I mean, it's Luna..."

Ginny laughed. "That's what I mean. She stops looking all dreamy and gets all focused. It's like she's treating Ron like a problem for homework."

"How do you reckon she'd score so far?"

"Well, Ron's a nervous wreck, so if Snape set it, she's probably on for an E at least. If he jumps off the Astronomy Tower it'd be a definite O, though."

They grinned at each other, then Ginny looked away and her cheeks coloured slightly.

"Harry, I'm sorry about bringing up Cho. I thought that you still liked her."

"No, I don't," he replied. "No need to be sorry. She wasn't the right girl for me, and it wasn't the right time. I..." he tailed off, and grinned despite himself.

"What?"

"I talked it through with Remus," he said, his grin widening. "I don't think I've ever seen him so flustered. He can chase off a Dementor without batting an eyelid, but he kept muttering about how he wished Sirius was there, and how he was going to throttle him if he ever saw him again."

Ginny laughed.

"Anyway, it's in the past," Harry said. "So don't worry about teasing me about it. Believe me, there's plenty of material."

"Like Madam Puddifoot's?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Not that, though," Harry replied. "Please, don't ever mention that..."

*

Ron had eventually reduced Quidditch training sessions to one night a week as the first match of the season approached. Between this and the fact that Ron had barely touched the food at the Hallowe'en feast, Harry began to understand exactly how much Ron was letting Luna get to him, and despite Hermione's insistence that Ron deal with her himself, he resolved to speak to the Ravenclaw about it if he got a chance.

The final practise before the first match of the season, where Gryffindor would take on Ravenclaw, barely seemed to have any flow to it. Ron stopped and started the plays over and over until it seemed to Harry that he was actually trying to wind up the other players on the team. Ginny in particular was ready to knock her brother off his broom, and while Harry couldn't help but agree that Ron was performing considerably below his best in his captaincy duties, he knew that nothing would be helped by a brawl between the team's captain and one of their Chasers.

"Ron, let's stop now," he said, pulling alongside Ron in front of the hoops.

"What? Why?" Ron muttered distractedly. "They're just getting the hang of it."

Harry looked in the same direction as Ron, and couldn't see what the team was getting. Kirke and Sloper were missing the Bludgers with alarming frequency, while Ginny, Katie and Natalie were fumbling catches that should have been easy, but for Ron's insistence on the unusual formations in the Cannons' playbook. Only the reserve players seemed to be making any headway, and Harry thought that that was probably due to Ron's lack of focus on their practise. He sighed.

"Ron, everyone's done in," he said. "You've had us running for two hours before we could even get on our brooms."

"Fitness is important," Ron said. "Catch it!"

Katie, distracted by Ron's sudden bellow, fumbled the Quaffle and was forced to dive downwards to retrieve the big red ball.

"You see? We need to keep practicing."

"Ron..." Harry's voice died away. How to tell his best friend that his Quidditch team was useless? "Trust me. I've been playing for years. The team needs to rest. We've got our match on Saturday, and it's more important to get a bit of extra rest then it is to get a bit more practise."

"You made me captain, Harry," Ron snapped. "I know a damn sight more about Quidditch then you do, alright?"

"You've watched Quidditch," Harry said. "You've even played a few games, but I know more about building a decent team then you do, Ron."

Ron rounded on him, his cheeks flushed a flaming red.

"Do what I tell you, Harry," he said, anger and frustration evident in his voice. "I know that I'm right. I may not know about anything else, but I know about Quidditch."

Harry sighed, and dropped away from his friend, instead beginning a series of Seeker drills in which he attempted to confuse the Chasers by disrupting their pattern of passing. By the time the long sessions finally came to an end, Ron was at least pleased with the way that Harry had flown, but Harry felt that his relative success had more to do with the Chasers' problems with Ron's tactics rather than his skill at distracting them.

*

"Who are you playing as third Chaser?" Harry asked Ron the next day, after a HA meeting in which Ron had grumpily hexed Colin Creevey a dozen times. "McGonagall wants our team sheet by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

"McDonald," Ron grunted, staring at the miniature Quidditch pitch in front of him. He poked at the trio of Chasers who were hovering above the pitch, and one of them protested in a way that Harry could easily imagine Ginny doing, although probably without the high-pitched, squeaky voice.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Ron snapped. "She's a lot tougher than Creevey. She can handle those idiots Slytherin are playing as Beaters."

"I suppose," Harry said doubtfully. "Have you told her?"

"No," Ron said, shoving away the miniature pitch and standing up abruptly. "You can, if you want. And tell her to stop fouling so much."

"Ron, are you feeling okay?" Harry asked, realising as he said it that it probably wasn't the smartest question he'd ever asked.

"I'm going to bed," Ron replied, stalking away from the table without even glancing in Harry's direction.

"He's letting it get to him, isn't he?" Hermione asked, from the other side of the table. She had been working quietly beside Ron, and was now picking miniature Quidditch players from her pencil case. She held the red-robed Keeper and green-robed Seeker pinched between finger and thumb, and stared at them for a moment. "I wonder if he'd be this bad if Malfoy wasn't the Slytherin captain this year?"

"Malfoy hasn't done anything," Harry sighed, sinking into Ron's vacated armchair. "Ron's doing it all to himself. He can see that what he's doing isn't working, I know that he can, but he's too stubborn to admit it."

Hermione smiled, her eyes twinkling.

"Does Ron remind you of someone?"

It took Harry a moment to realise that she was referring to the way that he'd acted the year before.

"I wasn't that bad," he said, rubbing his temples. He was starting to get a headache, and for once it wasn't Voldemort related.

"I'm afraid that you were," Hermione said. "Every bit as bad."

Harry groaned.

"Are you going to speak to Natalie?"

"Yeah, I guess. She's as wound up as Ron is. Maybe knowing that she got on the team will make her calm down a bit."

"Or-"

"-it may wind her up even further," Harry said. "I know."

He got out of the chair and walked over to where Natalie and her friends were working on a piece of Arithmancy work.

"Hi, Harry," she said, as he approached.

"His," he said. "Er, Ron says to let you know that you made the team for Saturday's match."

"Great," she said, grinning widely at him and her friends. "I told you I'd make it," she added, as she looked at one of her friends. "Drinks are on you, Michelle."

"Er, there was something else," Harry said.

"Yes?"

Harry tried to think of a polite way of saying what he was about to say, but failed. "Ron thinks that it would be a good idea for you to try not to foul so much."

Her smile fell away, and was replaced with an ugly scowl. "If Ron doesn't like the way that I fly, he shouldn't pick me for the team."

"I'll tell him that," Harry sighed, as he walked away.

He sat back down in Ron's chair and shrugged as Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. He thought about taking out his Potions work, but knew that in the mood he was in any work he managed would be of a low quality. He poked at Ron's miniature Quidditch pitch, making the players fly through a series of manoeuvres and watching with mounting discomfort as the green robed players routinely demolished the resistance offered by the red-robed players.

Harry looked around the common room, first seeing Ginny, who was staring morosely at the miniature pitch as well. They exchanged weak smiles before she turned back to her homework and Harry saw Jack Kirke and Andrew Sloper. They were practising their Beating skills with rulers and balls of wadded up paper, but were still struggling to make contact. Next Harry saw Katie, who was as experienced a player as he was. She at least seemed to be calm as she worked on a piece of homework, but even as he looked, she glanced over at Kirke and Sloper and turned back to her parchment with the tiniest shake of her head. Finally, Harry turned to Natalie, but quickly looked away as she glanced up at him and scowled.

Harry turned back to Hermione, but she could only offer the same watery smile that he'd already received from Ginny. Weighing up his options, he decided to go to bed.

He had a bad feeling about the upcoming match.

To be continued...