Harry Potter and the Heir of Gryffindor

Chapter Nine: The Pennant

He stumbled out of the toilet, his eyes red and tired and . . . he was green. An unearthly, sickly pale green.

"I can't do this, mate."

Harry put his arm around Ron supportively and walked him out of the toiled down the corridor towards the great hall.

"Of course you can. Come on, it won't be nearly so bad once you're up there."

"Easy for you to say."

"Oh Ron, you can answer these questions in your sleep. You really can-- I've heard you in the middle of the night--"

"Mr. Weasley? Are you ready?"

Professor McGonagall stood before them, her face looking more tense than usual. Ron managed a weak nod and she whisked him away with her.

Harry made a rush for the great hall-- or was it the great hall? For if it hadn't been for the enchanted ceiling (which tonight had a crescent moon in an overcast sky) the hall would have been unrecognizable! Four large stalls were set up at the front of the hall, each bearing the name of its respective house. The dining tables had been removed and in their places were four tiers of stadium-style seating. The room was pitch black saved for the stalls which glowed bright blue and another stand, the announcer's box, which glowed white.

Harry was amongst the latecomers in the hall, all of which had pulled out their wands and said 'lumos' to see their way through the students, trying not to step over too many feet. Fred, George Ginny and Hermione were waving for Harry to join them on the second tier, taking his seat between them and the rest of the Gryffindors.

"The hall looks fantastic, eh Herm?" He whispered.

Hermione was focused on the scene before her and muttered a, "Yeah."

"Nervous?"

She nodded. "Not nearly so bad as Ginny, though. She looks like she's gonna be sick!"

Indeed, Ginny was nearly as green as Ron had been!

The students were chatting eagerly in the moments before the pennant race began. There were quite a few name-callings and house- trashing between them.

The excited chatter was stopped by the appearance of Professor Warwick. Everyone cheered-- as well as some scattered catcalls from the boys, to which McGonagall's voice was heard sternly ordering 'There'll be none of that, thank you!' The noise subsided and Professor Warwick, looking lovely in her purple robes, spoke to the crowd:

"Welcome!" Her voice rang in everyone's ears loudly-- must have been the aggrio charm-- "Welcome students and faculty to the Two Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Hogwarts Student Pennant Race!"

The students roared in response!

"This privilege comes once every four years only, so congratulations to all participating in this great, time-honored event! You the contestants are familiar with the rules, but for the benefit of our audience, I will explain them briefly:

Above center stage will appear the four categories of the day. The first team will select the first question. Each correct answer is worth twenty points. If answered incorrectly, the opportunity to answer is then opened to the remaining teams-- if they answer correctly they receive double the original points and possession of the game. There is one bonus round at the end of the game in which each question answered correctly is worth one hundred points and if answered incorrectly, the teams' scoreboard is wiped to zero. Hufflepuff won the pre-game draw, therefore we commence with them. Contestants ready?"

The contestants clapped, and the students in the hall filled the room with clamorous support. Professor Warwick clapped her hands and the subjects appeared above them in smoky, magenta lettering: Merlin the Great,, General History, The Ministry and Geography.

"Hannah Abbot, you may begin."

She took a shaky breath. "G-geography."

"The question is: What North American state was the sight of the most vicious witch hunt in Wizarding history?"

"Er. . . M-Massachusetts?"

"Correct. Twenty points to Hufflepuff."

"Same category, please."

"The question is: Which country is home to the Caledonian Forest, birthplace of Merlin the Great?"

A fellow Hufflepuff whispered the answer. "Er-- Ireland."

"Incorrect. Open to the other teams."

Slytherin spoke up first. Pansy Parkinson smiled. "The answer is Scotland."

"Correct. Forty points to Slytherin."

"The Ministry, please."

"The question: What is the common name given to those who work in the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries?"

"Unspekables."

"Correct. Twenty points to Slytherin."

What? Thought Harry, No, please don't let Slytherin get into the lead!

"Same category, please."

The question: Who was the first elected Minister of Magic and what was the year of his election?"

"Oliver Ladskey, 1650."

Hermione squealed with delight, and Harry knew that Pansy was wrong.

"Incorrect. Open to the other teams."

Hermione stared at Ron from the stands. "He knows this. . . we've talked about it thousands of times. . ."

Ron cleared his throat. "Altunas Mallory, 1656. Ladskey was not elected to the office."

"Correct. Forty points to Gryffindor."

"Merlin the Great, please."

"In what year did the Great Merlin defeat the Dagon of Raithe?"

Ron hesitated one second too long as did the rest of the team.

"Time's up. Open to the other teams."

Pansy smiled and said, "The year 582."

"Correct. Forty points to Slytherin."

Harry groaned in anger, as did the rest of the Gryffindors.

"General History, please."

"Name the Danish Wizard whom in 1321 defeated an entire legion of trolls with only one incantation and name the incantation for ten extra points."

"Londenverg the Valiant, the incantation was 'anivaritus manni magni'."

"Correct. Thirty points to Slytherin."

"How did she know that," Hermione whispered to Harry, "even I didn't know that!"

To their utter dismay, Slytherin continued their winning streak throughout the entire game. Hufflepuff was deflated, Gryffindor was annoyed and Ravenclaw was just plain angry.

"Slytherin wins game one of the Pennant Race with 520 points. Ravenclaw comes in second with 320 points, Gryffindor is in third with 290 points and Hufflepuff is in fourth with 220 points. Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor advance to Game Two!"

The stands erupted into cheering-except for the Hufflepuffs who looked thoroughly deflated. It was obvious that Hermione had been expecting Gryffindor to take the lead, not come in third place, but she and Harry both showered Ron and the others with commendation.

"Great job, Ron," Hermione was saying as they crowded around the team, "You kept Gryffindor in the running!"

Ron didn't seem too thrilled. "I can't believe that Slytherin is ahead of us and Ravenclaw!"

Hermione nodded, "It's just not possible- everyone knows how stupid they all are! I was expecting Hufflepuff to beat them, actually! They've got some great Academics on that team--poor Hannah Abbott."

It seemed that the blow actually hit Ron harder than Hermione. "This," he said as the groups slowly filtered their way out of the great hall, "is war."

Harry, Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindors sat in agony that next evening. Apparently the Slytherin's lucky streak was turning out to be more than just luck. They were good. The Gryffindor House was putting up a valiant fight, as were the Ravenclaws-both teams most likely wanting to make absolutely sure that Slytherin wouldn't make it to the finals.

Ginny was exasperated-every time Gryffindor pulled ahead, Slytherin swung back and scooped up a bucket load of double points. "How are they doing it," she sighed, shaking her head. Ginny and Hermione had been up all hours of the night just with Ron and the team in the library, the Ravenclaws had assembled as well, but Slytherin had apparently decided they didn't need the extra study.

"How can they do this without lifting a finger in study," Hermione cooed.

"I don't know," Ginny whispered. "But last night after everyone had left the Library, I had to stay late to help Madame Pince, and in strolled Draco Malfoy."

"Draco?" All three repeated.

"Yeah. . ."

"What was he there for?" Hermione demanded. "I didn't know he even knew there is a library here!"

"I don't know! And he was only there for ten minutes and then left! Weird . . ."

At the end of the bonus round, Professor Warwick's disappointment was obvious, but nevertheless she had to announce, "Final Scores: Slytherin with a two day total of 1,040 points. Gryffindor is in second place with a total of 680 points and Ravenclaw in third with 650 points." There was reluctance in her voice. "S-Slytherin and Gryffindor advance to Game Three."

The Ravenclaws were devastated. Padma Patil looked like she was ready to cry! For the smartest house in the school to loose to Slytherin was almost a matter of shame. Harry tried to be as sympathetic as possible, but it was a bit difficult since he was so thrilled about Gryffindor getting to the finals!

Once more, they rallied around the team, Ron looking thoroughly relieved. The Ravenclaws had joined them as well, congratulating them like the fantastic sports they were.

Cho was shaking Ron's hand. "Great save on that bonus question, Ron. That really threw those Slytherins off guard. You just have to make sure that you beat them tomorrow."

"Yes," said Padma, "please. It's up to you, now."

"With pleasure," Ron said to the delight of the Ravenclaws.

"Good game," came Pansy Parkinson's voice. "But if I may suggest forfeiting now? It'll save you all a lot of time and embarrassment."

"You're going to eat those words, Parkinson," said Fred angrily.

"Perhaps," she said and then pranced off.

Ginny, still having a perplexed look about her, shook her head once more. "How are they doing it?"

Hermione grunted. "I, for one, smell a rat."

*

It was the last day of the competition and Harry, Ginny and Hermione were giving Ron his pep talk.

"You-can-not-let-Slytherin-win," Hermione was pleading. "You know all the answers, Ron."

"So do the Slytherins, it would seem." He moaned.

"Yes, but you've worked harder for this, therefore you deserve it more than they do!"

"Besides," said Ginny. "I think that the Slytherins are up to something."

Hermione spun around, "So do I!"

They gave each other a knowing wink.

"Ginny my dear? What do you say we do a little . . . digging?"

"Oh dear," said Ron. "I'm out of here before you two blow up the school or something."

"Good Luck!" They called after him.

"Listen," said Hermione, grabbing Ginny's arm. "Last night, did Draco come into the library again after everyone else left?"

Ginny grimaced. "I. . . didn't notice him."

"Well, when you did see him the night before, what aisle was he in?"

"Um. . . he was in the geography aisle. By the atlas', I believe."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. "Harry! The Maura-" she stopped and looked at Ginny. "Er. . . that map that you have. . . can you remember any secret passageways that lead out of the library?"

"Possibly. . . why?"

"Let's fetch it! Quickly! And we'll probably need your cloak as well!"

Harry was thoroughly confused, but Hermione wasn't letting him stop her. She pulled him along with Ginny down the corridor.

"Hermione, the game is starting now-"

"If I'm right, then we'll be able to save our team!"

They ran up to the Gryffindor common room, the Fat Lady eyeing them suspiciously, asking them why they weren't down at the Pennant. Harry fetched his map and cloak and then hurried to meet Hermione and Ginny back in the common room.

"Here," she said, looking at the map, "there is a passage in the library that leads practically to every room in the castle-as well as directly out of Hogwarts-right next to the Geography aisle-"

"That's where he was when I saw him," said Ginny.

"Hermione, you're talking in circles," said Harry exasperated.

"Somehow, Draco Malfoy is getting the answers for his team."

"That's a pretty heavy accusation, Hermione, on just a hunch alone."

"When have my hunches ever been wrong, Harry?"

"Hmm. Would you like that alphabetically or chronologically?"

Ginny snickered, but Hermione was insistent. "We don't have much time-"

"Let's say he did get the answers-- it's too late now. He'll never confess to anything if we don't have any evidence."

"That's why we have to hurry! Hand over that cloak Harry, we have to get to the Slytherin wing now."

Harry protested as Hermione threw the cloak over them. Ginny was taken aback, having never seen an invisibility cloak before, but seemed most in favor of Hermione's idea.

Harry was most definitely irritated as they ran towards the Slytherin wing. "We don't know the password, Hermione-"

"Ginny, give the password."

Harry stared at Ginny in disbelief as she whispered to the portrait, "Ether" and the door opened.

"How-"

"I know all the passwords," she said proudly. "One of the perks of being a library assistant."

They stepped inside and Harry shuddered. "Blech. I thought I'd never have to see this place again. All right, O Wise One, what do we do now?"

"We snoop." Hermione threw off the cloak and began surveying the common room. "I wonder where the Slytherins keep their study notes. . . probably with Pansy Parkinson, she thinks she's so smart. I'm gonna run up to the girls' dorms and see if I can find anything in her stuff-"

"Wait a sec!" Ginny cried. She was standing at a large red armchair next to the sofa. "Oh this is just too easy," she picked up a large folder from off the chair, smiling triumphantly. "It's their notes. . . or what they have of it! I saw Ron's notes-they were twice this size."

"That's because they didn't need to study," said Hermione, jumping to Ginny's side.

Harry peered over their shoulders as they flipped through the sheaves of parchment - all of which were untidy and ill prepared notes copied from encyclopedias. And then. . . three blank sheaves.

"That's odd," said Ginny.

Hermione snickered. "No it's not." She pulled out her wand and said "Aparecium!"

Suddenly thick, sloppy black writing appeared on the parchments.

All three of them stared in silence.

"I can't believe it," Harry whispered, "those are all the questions for the Pennant Race."

Indeed they were: each sheaf was titled either 'Game One, Two or Three,' including bonus questions.

Ginny shook her head. "But only Professor Warwick and the judges are supposed to have copies of these! There's no way a student could get a hold of these! It's impossible!"

"For a Slytherin?" Hermione challenged. "Hardly. Especially when we have Goblins for judges. Calculating, greedy little buggers. There isn't too much that they won't do for money. . ."

"Money," Harry repeated. "It must have been Draco, then, that paid one of 'em off! And that is definitely Draco's handwriting. I'm guessing he used that passageway in the library to meet up with one of the Goblins to get the answers."

They all stared at each other before Harry finally shouted, "What are we waiting for? We have to get these to Dumbledore now!"

They ran back as fast as their feet could carry them and stumbled into the great hall which was deep into the final game. Harry's heart sank when he saw the scoreboard: Slytherin leading Gryffindor 140 points to 70. Ron looked ready to keel over.

They stepped on several first years in order to make there way to where the faculty was sitting. Harry yanked on the skirt of Dumbledore's robes.

"Sir!" Harry whispered.

Startled, Dumbledore looked down.

"Harry?"

"Sir! The Slytherins! They have all the answers!"

"The certainly do," he said, audibly surprised.

"No! They've been cheating! Look!"

Dumbledore took the parchments from Harry's hands and flipped through them, his eyes ever so slightly betraying their shock. He looked at them for a moment thoughtfully, and then back down at Harry.

His voice was low. "I'm not going to ask you where you got these, Mr. Potter, although I probably should." He stood up and exited the faculty row. Harry, Hermione and Ginny looked on in anxiety as he called a meeting with Professor Warwick, just as they were about to enter into bonus round. From where they stood, they could see the shock in her eyes and then she nodded, returning to her announcer's box. This time she was sporting a terrific smile on her face.

"As we enter the bonus round, I must remind you all this is still anyone's game. As you know all correct answers are worth one hundred points, any incorrect answer will wipe the scoreboard to zero. I think you will all do very well in this round for the committee has updated the final questions to better suite the strengths of the contestants. Slytherin is in the lead, therefore Slytherin chooses first. May I have 90 seconds on the clock please? This is it-- for the pennant-- may the best team win."

The buzzer sounded and the subjects apparated.

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. "Harry! Ron knows all these!"

The categories were Potions, Vocabulary and Sports.

Pansy went first. "Um. . . vocabulary."

"What is the incantation for a human apparition?"

"Erm. . . . apparatitus?"

"Incorrect." Professor Warwick's smile broadened as she saw the Slytherin scoreboard wipe to zero. "Over to Gryffindor."

"Appareo!" said Parvati.

"Correct. One hundred points to Gryffindor."

"Potions, please."

"What is the key ingredient in a Polyjuice Potion?"

Ron was the first to answer. "A piece of whomever one is wishing to transform into."

"Correct. One hundred points to Gryffindor."

"Sports, please!" Ron shouted-the buzzer was almost out. Harry saw that even though they were in the lead with points for the day, they still trailed Slytherin's two day total by. . . one hundred points.

"Hermione! He gets this question and we win!"

There was urgency in Professor Warwick's voice. "In hours and minutes, what was the duration of the longest quidditch game?"

"72 hours exactly-- 15th March 1978."

Professor Warwick's face fell. "Oh. . . that's. . . incorrect, Mr. Weasley. The answer is 74 hours."

Ron's mouth dropped. Harry watched in horror as the Gryffindor scoreboard wiped to zero.

"I have the duty to announce that S-Slyth--"

"WAIT!" Ron shouted, "Those two extra hours didn't count as game time! The game was off during those two hours due to inclement weather! The match itself was 72 hours, so says Zambini's Encyclopedia of Magical Sports and Recreation, page 323!"

Everyone held their breath. Professor Warwick beamed and turned to the Goblin's panel. "Judges?"

The Goblins murmured amongst themselves. "Mr. Ronald Weasley's answer is correct: the total duration of game play was 72 hours."

"Gryffindor Wins!" Professor Warwick shouted. "Final Total Scores 1300 to 1200! Gryffindor wins the Pennant!"

Harry jumped to his feet and shouted at the top of his lungs--as had the rest of the auditorium! He threw a bear hug around Hermione and Ginny and gave them both a kiss on the cheek.

Harry didn't have time to realize that Ginny was seconds from fainting from his lips actually touching her face, because Hermione had taken hold of his hand and was pushing past everyone to get down to the main floor. She quite literally plowed over everyone in her path and in an instant had her arms thrown around Ron and was hanging onto him, laughing wildly, tears in her eyes.

"You did it Ron!" She kept saying over and over again, "You won us the Pennant!"

Harry had to nudge Hermione out of the way so that he could give Ron a bear hug too and then all three held onto each other-laughing so hard they could hardly breathe.

"Can you believe it Harry," Ron was yelling over all the din, "Can you-"

"Yes! Ron! That was incredible! You did it!"

"*We* did it!" He shouted and all three embraced again.

"Uh oh," said Ginny who'd appeared next to them with Fred and George. She nodded towards the Slytherin side where the Draco and Pansy were pointing fingers and arguing with Professor Warwick.

"It was rigged," Malfoy was shouting. "You rigged it! We didn't know any of those answers-you did that on purpose! You cheated!"

"That's ridiculous! The very idea! And anyway, I'm a Ravenclaw. Why would I want Gryffindor to--"

"You cheated!"

Professor Warwick smiled. "All I can say is this," she pulled out the piece of paper that Ginny had given to Dumbledore. "You're calling me a cheat? Well, it takes one to know one."

They went quiet.

"And in case you're wondering, yes, Dumbledore knows all about this. Tell me . . ."

"Detention," Ron whispered excitedly, "she's gonna give 'em detention, watch!"

"How does . . detention sound to you? For the next week?"

Ron laughed. The Slytherins stared at the ground and Professor Warwick, looking extremely pleased, put the papers away and walked over to where Ron and the rest of the gang stood and started in on the congratulations. And of course, Fred and George were just beside themselves with joy at the turn of events-anything that could make Malfoy's life a misery was okay with them! (although no evidence had yet to be produced, they were all still certain that Malfoy had something to do with the shop burning down.)

Harry couldn't help but notice that Ron kept his embrace around Hermione just that much longer than with anyone else.

It was enough to give Harry the courage to confront Ron about the situation. Time was waning-- Christmas would be there before they knew it and Ron still hadn't asked Hermione to the party! The subject actually came up one afternoon after the last class of the day. Harry came right out with it:

"Ron . . . I think you should ask Hermione."

"Herm? Harry . . . you still don't think that I have a yen for her, do you?"

"Call it intuition."

"Well your intuition is pants," he snapped. "You're wrong, you--"

"Hey, you guys! Wait up!" it was Hermione, joining them happily. She looked lovely, the way the sun seemed to catch her hair just right. Harry saw Ron's ears go red.

"Hi," he said quickly, and then turned to Harry. "Right, I'll see you upstairs, all right?"

And he disappeared.

Hermione looked hurt. "He's been doing that a lot lately," she said quietly. "He's . . . mad at me, isn't he. I've done somthing wrong."

Harry smiled and playfully socked her shoulder. "Hardly. Actually it's the opposite: you've done something right."

Her eyes landed on Harry and she smiled. "You going with anyone to Sophie's party yet?"

"No," he said slowly. "Not yet."

"You're joking. You haven't asked anyone? Cho? Ginny?"

Harry cleared his throat Hermione's pursposeful mention of those two girls in particular. "No one, Herm."

"Oh. Well, want to go with me then?"

"What?!?"

Hermione looked as though he'd sprayed arscenic at her. "Well don't look so thrilled! It's just that no one else has asked and--"

"Sorry! I didn't mean it like that, Herm. But . . I can't go with you. . ."

Hermione folded her arms, visibly not accepting his apology. "Oh?!? And just why is that?"

"Because Ron would kill me."

"Ron?"

"Yes. . ." Harry couldn't believe he was saying it. "He likes you."

Apparently Hermione couldn't believe it either. "Ron?"

Yes! He really does! It's just that, well, he's a bit shy about it--"

"Ron?!?"

"YES!!!" Harry shouted back.

Hermione blinked. "You're off your rocker, Potter. I'd rather you just be honest and tell me that you don't want to go with me instead of making up--"

"You don't believe me? Fine. I'll prove it to you, then. If I'm right, then mark my words, Ron will ask you by Monday. If I'm wrong, then I'll go with you the party, all right? Either way you get a date."

"And what if I don't want Ron to ask me?" She challenged.

"You do."

"How do you know? As far as I'm concerned, I couldn't care less if Ron liked me or not!"

Harry smiled. "Oh, but you do! Because that's how girls are! You always say you don't like someone just to try and convince yourself you don't, even though deep down inside you really do! Oh I know all about it. So we have a bargain, right?"

Hermione grimaced. And then . . . "Fine."

She turned on her heels and marched off, the sun still glinting in her hair.