Practice

"That's brilliant, Luna," Chris said after few seconds of silence. 

"That's perfect," Ginny cheered.

"Really?" Luna smiled looking a little surprised.

"Yes, Luna that's great." Colin beamed. "Can we make it?"

"I think," said Chris looking thoughtful. "But I need some books about how the talisman works and how to make one — er — I mean four."

"Here," Ginny said pulling out two books from the shelf. "They just appeared."

"Good. How many new books are there?"

"A dozen," Colin said after counting.

"Alright, it's half-past ten, we have to leave," Chris said checking her watch. "Each of us can take three or four books and then let's see what we can do?"

Ginny, Luna and Colin nodded and they divided the books among them.

It took them almost ten days to finish one book and understand it clearly but it was only for Colin and Luna, Chris and Ginny were having a hard time finishing their books because of their Quidditch practices every evening. 

The weather wasn't helping either, Chris and Ginny were soaked through within minutes, when they went down to Quidditch pitch for practice Tuesday, their feet slipping and sliding on the sodden grass. The sky was a deep, thundery gray and it was a relief to gain the warmth and light of the changing rooms, even if they knew the respite was only temporary.

"This is the fourth time we will be playing in this weather," Chris roared as she came out after changing into Quidditch robes. Everyone was there except Angelina.

"Hush, Angelina will be here any minute, now," Ginny said giggling. "And I thought you loved rain."

"Yeah I do but this is. . ."

"Painful," Fred nodded. "I know."

"The raindrops feel like blades in the face," George said. "I wish I could use our Skiving Snackboxes to get out of flying."

"Why can't you?" Ron asked.

"I had offered to sell her some Puking Pastilles yesterday." Fred sighed. "She will know we used it."

"We could try the Fever Fudge," George muttered, "no one's seen that yet —"

"Does it work?" inquired Ron hopefully, as the hammering of rain on the roof intensified and the wind howled around the building.

"Well, yeah," said Fred, "your temperature'll go right up —"

"— but you get these massive pus-filled boils too," said George, "and we haven't worked out how to get rid of them yet."

"I can't see any boils," said Ginny, staring at the twins.

"No, well, you wouldn't," said Fred darkly, "they're not in a place we generally display to the public —"

"— but they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the —"

"Oh God, you two," Chris shook her head laughing. "Use that boils curing potion, will you? It was in our first year."

"Right, that's why we couldn't remember where we have heard it last," Fred said with a satisfied grin. "You see, we don't give that much attention to that slimy git in potions classes."

Harry laughed loudly. 

"All right, everyone, listen up," said Angelina loudly, emerging from the Captain's office. "I know it's not ideal weather, but there's a good chance we will be playing in conditions like this. And let me remind you, we are playing against the Slytherins, so it's a good idea to work out how we're going to cope with them. Alright, like last time — Impervius! Okay. Let's go."

"Impervius!" Everyone muttered tapping their faces with their wands then they all stowed wands back in the inside pockets of their robes, shouldered their brooms, and followed Angelina out of the changing rooms.

They squelched through the deepening mud to the middle of the pitch; visibility was still very poor even with the Impervius Charm; the light was fading fast and curtains of rain were sweeping the grounds.

"All right, on my whistle," shouted Angelina.

Chris kicked off from the ground, spraying mud in all directions, and shot upward. She had no idea how they were going to see the Quaffle in this weather; Chris was having enough difficulty seeing the Bludger. 

Ginny passed her the Quaffle but Chris missed it and it soared past her. Fortunately Angelina did not see this; in fact, she did not appear to be able to see anything; none of them had a clue what the others were doing. The wind was picking up; even at a distance, Chris could hear the swishing, pounding sounds of the rain pummeling the surface of the lake.

"This is hopeless," Chis said as Angelina herself missed the Quaffle second time. "We can't continue like this Angelina."

And after half an hour Angelina realized Chris was right though she didn't admit it. She led her sodden and disgruntled team back into the changing rooms, insisting that the practice had not been a waste of time, though without any real conviction in her voice. Fred and George were looking particularly annoyed; both were bandy-legged and winced with every movement. Ginny was joking about them as she handed a towel to Chris. Chris laughed and started to dry herself before changing.

"OUCH!" said Harry, pressing the towel on his face,

"What's up?" Chris said automatically with others.

Harry emerged from behind his towel.

"Nothing," he muttered, "I — poked myself in the eye, that's all . . ."

But Chris didn't believe him. She gave Harry a skeptical look.

"Was it your scar?" she asked as soon Fred, George and Angelina left.

Ron and Ginny rounded on Harry who hesitated but finally nodded.

"But . . ." Looking scared, Ron strode across to the window and stared out into the rain, "He — he can't be near us now, can he?"

"No," Harry muttered, sinking onto a bench and rubbing his forehead. "He's probably miles away. It hurt because . . . he's . . . angry."

Chris again remembered the connection between Harry and Voldemort. She felt anxious.

"Harry, have you thought about telling Dumbledore?" Ginny asked before Chris could.

"No, he already knows," Harry said, getting to his feet, he turned to Chris. "There's no point telling him again."

"But Dumbledore'd want to —" Ron began but Chris signed him to stop.

Harry didn't notice this and hurriedly left. Ron reluctantly followed.

"Tell me, you are going to talk to Dumbledore," Ginny said watching them leave.

"Well someone has to," Chris sighed.

But again there was a big problem. Professor McGonagall stopped Chris from meeting Dumbledore next morning as Dumbledore had refused to meet any students for a few days, especially Chris and Harry as it might look suspicious to Umbridge.

"Remember, She is looking for a chance to corner you. Don't give her anything to pin on you," McGonagall said. "We don't want you getting into any more Ministry troubles."

"But Professor —" but before Chris could finish Umbridge came into view and McGonagall gave a sympathetic path to Chris and asked her to go.

Somehow, again Umbridge was gaining power but how?

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To be continued...