Harry Potter and the Unbreakable Link

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Harry Potter and the Unbreakable Link

Chapter 9- Quidditch and All That

If Harry had thought that the teachers had been working the seventh years hard before Christmas, it was nothing to how they were teaching them now. Even Hermione thought that they could loosen up a bit.

"Look at this!” cried Ron angrily one night, brandishing his homework diary, “We have a Potions essay- five rolls of parchment; three exercises for Professor McGonagall; duelling practise for a test in Defence against the Dark Arts and an essay on ‘The Rise of Grindelwald and his involvement in the Second World War’ for Binns. It’s not fair. They’re all due in tomorrow as well.”

Hermione slammed her potions textbook down hard on the table, “You’re not exactly helping us work by complaining, you know. Just do it, will you, Ron? Please?” She sounded close to tears.

Ron glared at her but did not seem able to think of a comeback. He returned to his Transfiguration.

Harry stared at his Defence against the Dark Arts notes before getting up slowly and turning to Hermione, “Hermione, can I borrow Crookshanks a minute?”

Hermione yawned, “Yes, OK. Why?”

“Duelling practise.” Hermione’s eyes narrowed but she did not reply. Harry aimed his wand at Crookshanks, who was asleep and shouted, “Stupefy!” The cat became motionless. Harry muttered, “Enervate!” and he started moving again. He returned to the place he had been before Harry had stunned him, as if he knew what Harry was doing. That’s impossible. Cats aren’t that clever, Harry thought frowning.

Ron muttered, “What are you doing, Harry? What is the point in your practising duelling? We’ve gone over the curses millions of times when we were practising for the Triwizard Tournament. Anyway, you’ve duelled You-Know-Who hundreds of times. I would of thought that was enough to give you full marks.”

“Would have, Ron,” sighed Hermione absently as she flicked through her textbook.

“I won’t get full marks from Professor Figg just because I’ve fought Voldemort twice.”

Professor Arabella Figg was indeed very thorough. She had arrived after Christmas from the Ministry where she had worked as an Auror. She had not been able to start teaching before then because her contract at the Ministry didn’t run out until the beginning of the New Year (2003).

Harry had often wondered why Dumbledore had not told Sirius that the new teacher was Professor Figg. He had found out as soon as she had entered the Great Hall: Sirius liked her. They seemed to already know each other, and by the way Sirius always went red if she spoke to him it was pretty obvious that he was infatuated. It was also pretty obvious what he liked about her. Arabella was a good looking, bouncy woman with a good sense of humour. There was also a very honest look about her- no nonsense- yes, but upfront. If a student had a problem, she attacked it face on, and usually solved it. When Harry had heard she was an Auror he had imagined a female version of Mad-Eye Moody, but Arabella seemed to prove that you could be an Auror without being covered in scars and muttering ‘CONSTANT VIGILENCE!”

Not that Arabella wasn’t strict. She took the imminent exams very seriously indeed and had tests every other week. She loaded on homework every day of the week apart from the weekend, when she gave them extra. She thought that Professor Harding had taught them badly, which she had, surprisingly enough since she was McGonagall’s sister, and the mother of the Minister of Magic.

Harry had enough things to worry about without homework and duelling tests. He had a quidditch match against Slytherin on Saturday and as both Gryffindor and Slytherin were equal in points at the moment, then whoever won this match would probably win the cup as well. He had training every night, as well as having to plan tactics out with Ron beforehand and homework afterwards. Ron wasn’t much better off, now being on the team as Keeper.

Harry and Ron both thought that Hermione would be having a light time because she was not on the quidditch team. They were wrong. Hermione had more than the boys did to worry about. She was trying to learn her spell from Greece off by heart, she was trying to research Aïda Thompson’s disappearance and she needed to find out as much as she could about the Unbreakable Link and Voldemort’s daughter.

It was going to be a long term.

*

“Come in Girls and Boys!” trilled Professor Figg happily from the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom. The Gryffindors trooped in dejectedly. Hermione was muttering under her breath and waving her wand occasionally. Harry, Ron and Neville were all trying to share and read a textbook as they walked in. (This created a problem when they reached the door as there was not room for three at one go to walk through it.) Dean and Seamus were having a mock duel and Lavender and Parvati were trying to predict how they would do in the test.

The classroom had been arranged to look like a professional duelling ring with chairs in a circle round it. Professor Figg stood in the middle of it, twirling her wand between her fingers. She was a short, slightly plump woman in her late thirties. She had wide apart blue eyes and a short blond bob. She wore very dangly earrings. “What? I’m very surprised that you’re not all rushing to have the test. I know how much you love Defence against the Dark Arts.” Catching Harry’s eye, she winked.

When the class was seated, she told them to put their books away. Then she sat on the desk and surveyed the nervous Gryffindors with amusement.

“Welcome to your first proper duelling competition. You will be marked as you would be in a professional competition. You will have marks out of ten for the following features: Skill, Knowledge, Presentation-”

“Presentation!?” howled Seamus.

“Mmm, for how well you bow, salute, dodge and how you hold your wand etc, and a mark out of ten for whether you win or not. If you win you get ten, if you lose, zilch.” She beamed at them. “That makes a total out of forty. If you succeed in disarming or stupefying your opponent then you win. You can use any curses you know apart the Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse and the Avada Kedavra Curse. Also,” here she held up a box of chocolate frogs, “these go to the person who can duel as well or better than my old best friend. If no-one does then I keep them. Only joking,” she added hastily, “I’ll share them round the class.”

“Who was your best friend? Was she a champion? Have I met her?” asked Lavender eagerly.

Arabella looked at her closely a moment then replied shortly, “She’s dead.”

Lavender looked aghast, “I’m sorry...If I’d known...”

“Never mind, Miss Brown. It was a long time ago.”

“What was her name? Was she really good?” asked Parvati curiously.

Arabella looked at the floor, “You won’t have heard of her. Her name was Lily Evans. But yes, she was a good dueller. It was as if she knew what her opponent was going to say before he’d even opened his mouth. She countered the curse before he'd said the curse. It was weird. She never a lost a tournament.”

Harry was staring at her, open mouthed, “My mum?”

Professor Figg looked at him blankly a minute then said, “Yes. She married James Potter. Anyway, no use dwelling on the past. When I call out your name, enter the ring. When Neville rings the bell, you will bow and start the duel. The fight will end when one of you has either lost their wand, or if you are knocked out due to a stunning curse.” She smiled brightly at them, “Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan, please start!”

Lavender and Seamus moved into the ring. Neville rang the bell and they bowed.

Harry wasn’t watching however. His mother had been a duelling champion and he had never known! He hadn’t even known that his mother had been friends with Arabella. That explains when she met Sirius, he thought. It occurred to Harry how little he knew about his mother. He knew plenty about his father, but nothing about Lily. Petunia had not exactly been eager to talk about her sister. Harry came out of his reverie to feel Ron nudging him in the ribs. Seamus had succeeded in stunning Lavender and everyone (minus Parvati) were clapping. Lavender walked rather dazedly out of the ring back to her seat by Parvati. Professor Figg wrote something on her clipboard and then read out the marks; Lavender had got 22 out of 40 and Seamus had 35.

She called out the next pair, “Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom, please start. Finnigan, please take over on the bell.”

“Good luck, Hermione!” cried Harry as she entered the ring.

“Good luck, Neville!” cried Ron, earning himself a dirty look from Hermione.

When Hermione and Neville were ready, Seamus rang the bell and they bowed. Hermione opened the attack with the jelly legs charm which Neville managed to block. He came back with a tickling spell, but Hermione was ready and she blocked it easily. Hermione then tried the Impedimenta spell, but Neville jumped aside and yelled “Stupefy!” Hermione blocked it quickly, and before Neville could retaliate, she cried, “Expelliarmus!” The duel was over. Hermione hurried to her seat and tried to look modest, and failed.

“Neville, you have 29 points," announced Professor Figg, "Well done.” She flashed Neville a smile and he looked very pleased. “Miss Granger, you have 38 points.”

Hermione looked disappointed and asked in a peevish manner where she had lost the two points.

Arabella grinned, “One point off because you forgot to salute your opponent at the end. The winner should always salute the loser. The other point off is because you used the disarming spell when I know you are capable of using the stunning spell. In a real life duel for life or death then if you merely rob your opponent of their wand then there is the minute chance that they might be able to do magic without their wand. That is very rare, I have never encountered anyone who can. You-Know-Who can.” She added as an afterthought.

“I don’t understand,” Hermione said frowning. “Is Voldemort the child of someone with the Unbreakable Link?”

No-one seemed to understand her apart from the teacher. She frowned, “I wonder why you know about that. It isn’t on the NEWTs syllabus. You-Know-Who has a muggle father, Hermione. He can’t be. There is a rare potion that gives you the powers of one who is the child of the Link. That is why he is said to be on the path to immortality. He isn’t immortal yet, I don’t think. He can resist death by force though. The potion is very rare and extremely difficult to brew however. By the by, I wouldn’t say his name out loud in public. Some people don’t like it.”

Hermione nodded, seemingly content with Professor Figg’s answer. Arabella smiled at her before returning to the register, which Harry realised she was going down alphabetically, “Parvati Patil and Harry Potter, please start.”

Harry entered the ring to the calls of "Good Luck, Harry!" from Ron and Hermione, and "Good Luck, Parvati!" from Lavender. Seamus rang the bell very loudly and Harry and Parvati bowed.

“How can people duel like this for a jest when they could duel Voldemort?” Harry wondered as he sent the tickling curse at Parvati which she blocked. A few minutes later Harry realised that though Parvati didn’t seem able to send out any curses of her own, she was very good at blocking Harry’s. No-one seemed to be winning, until Harry had an idea. “Rictusempra!” he shouted, and as Parvati blocked it, he called straight after, “Stupefy!” Parvati did not have time to block it and Harry had won. He remembered to salute Parvati as he left the ring. He went back to his seat where Ron and Hermione were having a silent fight.

“I hope you were all watching that duel very carefully.” Here Professor Figg glared at Ron and Hermione. (Ron was now trying to force Hermione off her chair.)

“An excellent match. Well done, Potter. Well done, Patil. Very good tactics I must say, Parvati; that use of the blocking spell is very widely used in professional duelling and is very hard to beat. If you’d only came in with an attacking spell when Harry was confused then you would have won. Excellent use of the two spells almost simultaneously, Harry. That’s very complicated but is the only way of getting past Parvati. Anyway, your marks, Parvati; 28 out of 40. Very good. Potter you have, erm, 38.”

Harry collapsed in a chair next to Ron. Arabella looked over at that side of the room and sighed, “Would you kindly care to explain your difference of opinion to the class.”

Harry grinned as Ron and Hermione looked up, embarrassed. “Either that or you explain to me in private afterwards.”

Ron hissed to Hermione, “This is all your fault.”

Hermione said in an innocent voice, “Ron is teasing me because I wouldn’t be his girlfriend and I think I was quite right not to go with him if I don’t like him.”

“Don’t listen to her!” cried Ron angrily, “She was going on at me because I said ‘Good luck, Harry!’ and not ‘Good luck, Hermione!’ I was saying good luck to Neville because no-one else was-”

“That’s still no reason to give-”

“SILENCE!” roared Professor Figg, “10 points from Gryffindor for behaving like first years and please sort out your love lives out of my class. Dean Thomas and Ron Weasley, please start.”

Seamus rang the bell and they bowed as Hermione cried out, “Good luck, Dean!”

Ron won his duel easily, even though he had to perform the disarming charm while dancing the tap dance, which was quite an amusing sight. Ron had 34 points and Dean had 25.

“OK, let’s see who won. You all did marvellously. Much better than Slytherin.” Professor Figg grinned at them, “Now, let’s see. Oh! We have a draw!”

“What now?” asked Dean.

“Well, in a professional competition the two winners would duel each other until there was a winner. Off you go, Potter and Granger, please start. Parvati, take over the bell.”

Parvati rang the bell and Harry bowed to Hermione. She did the same. He noticed that she looked very confident. A smile played on her lips and she held her head proudly in the air. She looked very different from when she duelled Neville. She had done that almost lazily. ‘What’s so different about duelling me and duelling Neville?’ Harry asked himself. The answer came at once, ‘You are Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the boy who has duelled the most notorious wizard ever, and won. And now you are duelling Hermione Granger, your friend, a muggle born.’ That was the difference. The way it was put then made it look like Hermione would be a walkover. So why was he feeling nervous? He could duel Voldemort, but not Hermione!? Nothing made sense anymore. He would wait for her to make the first move.

Hermione stared at Harry. He looked very fierce. This duel isn’t for fun, I know. It means everything. If Harry wins that’s only to be expected. If I win? What then? How can I, Hermione Granger, beat Harry Potter? She saw how he was looking at her and a stab of cold fear gripped her heart. He knows. I know he knows. He’s realised. What can I do? I’ll let him start.

They stared at each other for a minute, then they said the same spells at the same time. The two jets of light met in the middle and ricochéd off each other causing Seamus and Professor Figg to double up laughing. (Ron ended the spell on Arabella, so she could keep a check on the duellers.)

The rest of the duel continued like this. They said the spells at the same time or if they didn’t then each of them managed to block the other. However Harry was starting to lose concentration. His scar was hurting. Not badly- just like a small headache. It was like the ghost of what he normally felt when he was near Voldemort. But Voldemort wasn’t here, was he? What’s going on? Harry thought as he aimed the stunning curse at Hermione, which she blocked easily. The school bell went, and the rest of the class left very hurriedly, nearly all of them had been hit by a spell that had bounced out of the ring. The two duellers continued like this for another five minutes when Arabella cried, “Stop! Stop! Enough, enough! I’m exhausted just watching you.”

Harry and Hermione lowered their wands sheepishly and saluted each other. Professor Figg smiled at them. “Well, I wouldn’t like to meet either of you in an alley at night. I wish I had recorded that duel,” she added wistfully. “You’re good enough to be professional duellers you know. That was very... interesting. Here, take these. You deserve them.” She handed them the box of chocolate frogs with a smile, “Not before lunch, however. You’ll ruin your appetite.”

“And our teeth,” muttered Hermione. Harry grinned; it seemed Hermione had picked up some off her parents’ habits. Arabella swept out of the room.

“Wait!” cried Harry after her, struck with an idea.

She stopped.

“Does that mean we are better than my mum?”

Arabella ran her fingers distractedly through her hair, “As good, I should say. Not better.”

“Then... then, if she was such a good dueller, why didn’t she duel Voldemort?”

“Come in and sit down,” Arabella said abruptly. They re-entered the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom and Arabella and Harry sat down. Hermione began unobtrusively to pack her and Harry’s bags.

“I don’t know what happened exactly the night your parents died, Harry. When I and the other Aurors arrived it was all over. I know she died to save you. That’s the sort of thing she would do. Competitive to the end. James didn’t save you, so she did.”

“What was my mother like?” Harry asked. If anyone knew it would be Arabella.

Arabella frowned a bit, “I don’t suppose anyone has ever talked to you about her. Always good to talk about the dead. Get’s it out of your system. Your mother was very competitive. That’s the first thing I remember about her. In Transfiguration on our first day, she challenged James to transfigure as many matchsticks as he could in a time limit. It was a draw. I think we all knew what would happen then. Since that day everything was a race between Lily and James. They were both top of their class and your father was a terrible egoist. He thought he was the best at everything. He was in most cases. Lily also thought she was the best. James did not believe she could be better than him because she was a girl. This enraged her. If James did anything, Lily had to do better. If the Marauders sneaked out with an Invisibility cloak, then Lily would find an extremely complicated spell for invisibility and we’d sneak out too. It was quite exhausting being her best friend. Then she had that dreadful sister, Petunia. I think she was quite nice, but she was terribly jealous of Lily. It was really improbable, I remember, that talented, clever, fierce witch, Lily should have such a nondescript, stupid family- her mother was truly pathetic, and such an awful sister! They didn’t even look alike. Lily stood out like a beacon with her smooth fair hair and her twinkling green eyes.”

Harry glanced at Hermione, waiting patiently by the door. She had gone very pale and was staring at them as if she had seen a ghost. Perhaps she was hungry and tired from the duel.

“Thank-you, Professor. I really appreciate you telling me this. I think I’ll go to lunch now.”

“Oh, Harry. Perhaps you didn’t know, I am actually one of your godmothers.”

Harry stared at her open mouthed. “My godmother? Oh!”

Arabella grinned back, “Your other godmother was Molly Stibbins, now Molly Weasley.”

“Ron’s mother?”

“Yes. I thought you’d like to know that. Now get your lunch- you must be starving.”

Harry picked up his bag from Hermione’s outstretched hand and they left the room, silently.

Arabella looked after them, a small frown on her sunny face, “I wonder...” And she left in the direction of Dumbledore’s office.

*

Harry and Hermione didn’t mention the duel to anyone except Ron who did not look very interested and merely suggested they earned a living by duelling against each other. Hermione and Ron were still at each other throats, and it would probably have continued if Harry had not reminded Ron of his resolution never to fight with Hermione again.

Saturday dawned fresh and bright- perfect conditions for a quidditch match. At breakfast Harry sat at the Gryffindor table hardly eating anything, drawing attack plans on the tablecloth with his knife, using the pepper and salt as players.

“Erm, Harry, the match isn’t till tonight. You’re turning into Oliver Wood, you know. You know- obsessed.” Ron commented as Harry bewitched his piece of toast to be the quaffle. Hermione shook her head sadly behind his back, but not totally seriously.

“I wish we still had Oliver Wood,” Harry moaned.

“I wish Fred, George, Angelina, Katie and Alicia were still here.” Ron replied, winking at Hermione.

“We’ve got Pippa,” Harry said brightening up a little. Pippa was Alicia Spinnet’s younger sister in the sixth year and like her sister was an excellent chaser.

They spent the morning doing homework, or in the case of Harry, worrying.

Eventually the hour of the game arrived and Harry and Ron left to get changed and Hermione followed Lavender and Parvati to the stands. (“Promise you won’t do your homework during the game, this time.” Harry had pleaded.) She hadn’t even brought it. After all, it was Harry’s next to last quidditch game at Hogwarts.

She made her way to the stands and sat down between Dean and Parvati. Lavender had gone off to sit with her Ravenclaw boyfriend. The pitch was a hub of excitement. Three-quarters of the crowd were sporting red and gold flags and a quarter had green and silver flags. Pansy Parkinson seemed to be wearing Malfoy’s old quidditch robes. Seamus and Neville staggered up to the crowd followed by Ginny Weasley carrying the massive Gryffindor flag which usually decked the Great Hall. “Dumbledore said we could have it. Will you help us hold it, Hermi?” panted Seamus. Hermione hated that nickname but she took hold of one of the poles all the same.

The roar of the crowd swelled as the teams entered the pitch. Hermione screamed and jiggled her pole of the flag along with the rest. She surveyed the Gryffindor team. Rachel Jones and Shane Britain were beaters. Not as good as Fred and George, but not bad either. Ron as keeper. Pippa was the best chaser, Colin Creevey was dreadful and Gemma Robinson wasn’t bad. Then Harry. She smiled happily and awaited the start of the game.

Harry shook Malfoy’s hand with as much loathing as Oliver Wood and Montague had in the old days.

Madame Hooch’s whistle went and the teams flew off the ground. The commentator, Susan Bones from Ravenclaw started yelling the score. “10-0 to Gryffindor!! And Spinnet scores! That’s 20-0! Oh, Pucey has the quaffle and he score- no! He’s stopped by a trusty bludger sent by Jones. Quaffle is intercepted by Spinnet and will she- won’t she? YES ! Spinnet scores again! 30-0 to Gryffindor!”

So the game continued. Hermione had her Omnicolars and she skimmed the pitch, trying to find the snitch. Malfoy and Harry were soaring round above them, looking for it as well.

A roar of cheering came from the Slytherin end. Slytherin had scored, bringing the score to 30-10. Next a bludger almost knocked Colin Creevey off his broom giving a Slytherin chaser a chance to score another goal. He would have succeeded if Shane hadn’t sent a bludger into his stomach on purpose. Madame Hooch awarded Slytherin a penalty and they got another goal past Ron.

“The Slytherins are catching up! 30-20!” roared Susan.

“What?”

“Colin had the quaffle and flew straight into Harry! He’s almost off his broom!”

With a slightly sick feeling in her stomach she turned her omnioculars towards the Gryffindor end of the pitch. Harry hung with one hand from his broom. Slowly he heaved himself up to the concern of the Gryffindor team who were so upset that they didn’t notice that the Slytherins had grabbed the quaffle bringing the score up to 30 all. Harry was being blocked by Colin Creevey, who seemed to be apologising to him in a very sycophantic manner when Hermione saw an even more sickening sight near the Slytherin goalposts: the golden snitch hovering near the Slytherin keeper, and Malfoy souring towards it.

Harry hadn’t even been able to see past Colin. “THE SNITCH!” bellowed Hermione, but Harry could not hear her. Then it occurred to her. She could do it. Yes, she’d give everything away, but to win the game... This would prove whether she was right or not anyway.

HARRY POTTER! she screamed, though not one word left her lips. Harry almost fell off his broom. Hermione’s heart jumped into her mouth. THE SLYTHERIN GOALPOSTS! THE SNITCH! MALFOY’S ALMOST THERE! she yelled.

Without waiting to hear anything more, Harry turned his broom towards the Slytherin end and flattened himself against it, brushing past Colin who looked very surprised. “Look!” cried Ginny, “He’s seen it! Look at them go!” The stadium was almost silent as the two seekers chased the snitch. Professor McGonagall was biting her finger nails and even Snape was looking anxious.

Malfoy was nearer, much nearer than Harry, but Harry had a Firebolt. He was gaining on Malfoy... but still Malfoy would get there first. The whole stadium was silent. Pucey was holding the quaffle, but didn’t even seem to notice it. It was then that one of the Slytherin beaters made a grave mistake. He sent a beater hurtling towards Harry. It missed and hit Malfoy in the stomach. Malfoy rolled over in pain as Harry leaned forward and grabbed the snitch!

The stadium erupted. Hermione released the breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding and burst into tears. Susan was jumping up and down on the platform shouting, “YES! YES! YES! THE LIONS WIN!! DOWN WITH SLYTHERIN! 180-30 TO GRYFFINDOR!! YES!! YES!!”

No-one stopped her. McGonagall was dancing some sort of tango with Dumbledore and Sirius had kissed Arabella.

The Gryffindor team landed and Hermione, closely followed by Ginny raced onto the pitch.

“You WON!” she screamed tearfully as she threw herself into Harry and Ron’s arms.