𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 ☽ Harry Potter

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱

UNDER THE NIGHT SKY

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     It took two weeks of non stop letters to her mother, constant reassurance from Hermione, and endless nights of cuddles from Orestes for Iphigenia to finally calm down from the boggart incident.

     During that time, she learned that her dog had, in fact, ran away — "I promise that I gave him endless kisses and love Effie, don't blame your mother for a mutt's desire to live on the streets!" — and it was Draco who told her that Lucius Malfoy was out for blood because of his son's injury. With Dementors still seen floating threateningly around Hogwarts and Severus Snape in abnormally vindictive moods, Iphigenia was struggling to keep a smile on her face most days.

    Her friends had taken notice to the dimmed light that usually surrounded the Metamorphmagus. She stopped wearing her hair in crazy colors and her laughter no longer came out in a sweet melody. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had even found Iphigenia clinging more to them rather than splitting her time with her other friends. The three Gryffindor's had tried to get their friend to over come the stressors in her life. But, try as they may, nothing seemed to get Iphigenia back to herself again.

     When September bled into October, Harry was hopeful that the new month would finally bring his friend back. For something was soon to come that would occupy her free time. Something so enjoyable it even made the grumpy looking Slytherin's to smile.

     The Quidditch season was approaching, and Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor team, had called a meeting on Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season. Iphigenia, for once, had a wide smile on her face as she listened to her captain speak with his typical dramatics. There was a quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members in the chilly locker rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch field.

     "This is our last chance —my last chance — to win the Quidditch Cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it.

     "Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world — injuries — then the tournament getting called off last year." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the best — ruddy — team — in — the — school," he said, punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye. "We've got three superb Chasers."

     Wood pointed at Alicia Spinner, Angelina Johnson, and Iphigenia. All of the girls batted their eyes bashfully and gave their captain an air kiss.

    "We've got two unbeatable Beaters."

     "Stop it, Oliver, you're embarrassing us," said Fred and George Weasley together, pretending to blush.

     "And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harry with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added as an afterthought.

     "We think you're very good too, Oliver," said George.

     "Spanking good Keeper," said Fred.

     "The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry and Effie joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing..."

     Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Fred and George looked sympathetic. "Oliver, this year's our year," said Fred.

     "We'll do it, Oliver!" said Angelina.