69 || Weasley is our King

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Since the first DA meeting, Hermione had come up with a very clever way to let members know the date and time of meetings. She distributed fake Galleons to every member of the DA, and whenever Harry set the date on his fake Galleon, the numbers on all of the Galleons would change, thanks to Hermione's use of a Protean Charm.

"You can do a Protean Charm?" Terry Boot had asked when Hermione proposed her idea about the fake Galleons.

"Yes."

"But that's... that's N.E.W.T standard, that is."

"Oh. Oh... well... yes, I suppose it is."

"How come you're not in Ravenclaw? With brains like yours?"

All of the Quidditch teams had been granted permission by Professor Umbridge to reform. As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, DA meetings were put on hold, because both Katie and Angelina (the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain) insisted on having daily practices.

Katie was very on edge about this game. After all, the line-up of her team was still very new. Katie and Graham were really the only two who worked smoothly together, but the team were definitely improving. However, Harry's constant taunts were stressing Katie out a great deal, but she refused to let that show, and would always fire back a quip of her own. The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably to the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game. The Head of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under decent pretence and sportsmanship, were determined to see their own side victorious.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and drowning rain and November, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy draughts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly grey, the mountains around Hogwarts were snowcapped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so low that many students wore thick protective dragonskin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. At breakfast, Katie was so stricken by her nerves that she hadn't noticed that Pansy had been speaking to her for over five minutes.

"Katie, you're denting your goblet — Katie..."

Draco pulled the golden goblet from Katie's hand, awakening her from her panicked trance. She had not noticed just how hard she was gripping her goblet until that moment when she looked at it and saw that she had created a great dimple in the side of it.

"How do you even manage to—?" Blaise said, goggling at the ruined cup.

"You really need to relax—" Draco began, but was promptly cut off by Pansy.

"Don't tell a girl to relax, Draco, you brainless git," Pansy said and pushed a plate of croissants towards Katie, who was looking very pale. "Here, eat these."

"I appreciate it, Pans, but I think I'll be sick if I eat." Katie grumbled, staring at the plate of croissants with great distaste. She could feel an uncomfortable rumbling building in her stomach at the sight of the pastries and tore her eyes away from them.

"You're just nervous." Draco told her softly.

She glared at him. "You don't say."

At that moment, the seats all around Katie filled up — Montague, Warrington, Bletchley, Crabbe and Goyle had all arrived, each of them looking very excited.

"All right, Katie?" Graham beamed, buttering himself some toast. "Looking forward to the game?"

Draco shook his head rather aggressively at Graham, who responded only by furrowing his eyebrows in bewilderment. A sudden fatigued sensation washed over Katie. Black blotches were disrupting her vision.

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