Chapter 18 - Gain and loss

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That evening, after doing her homework, Megan pulled out the books and magazines she'd gotten from the library and Wood about broomsticks, to try and help her choose a new one. She sat cross legged in front of the fire with Harry and Ron, while Hermione finished an essay for Arithmancy. The three of them spent over an hour looking over the various models available, their year of commercialisation, comparing speed, design, popularity... but Megan couldn't find a single one that called to her or made her want to buy it. Even the Firebolt (which Ron pointedly tried to convince her to buy, though Megan suspected this was because he was thinking he'd have a chance to borrow it if she did), which she had been intrigued by in Diagon Alley, hadn't even registered with her.

“How about a Nimbus 2001?” Ron suggested.

“Malfoy's got one, I'm not having anything he has,” she said firmly.

“Well, how about another Nimbus?” Harry suggested.

“... No...”

“Why not?”

“... It might sound silly, but I'd feel I'm betraying my old one.”

She sighed and snapped the book shut.

“I can't get into any of them...” she said. “But I'll have to get one soon, or we'll be floored...”

“Why is there so much of a difference between brooms?” Hermione asked curiously.

“They're all built a bit differently, have different speeds, are more or less easy to handle... it's more or less like a car or a bike, I suppose,” Megan said. “I mean, no one is identical, is it?”

“It's getting late,” Harry said, glancing at his watch. “Maybe you should sleep on it. And there's still time to think about it.”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe you're right.”

“I'm turning in, too,” Hermione said, packing her bag and putting it over her shoulder. “Night."

“Night, guys.”

This just wasn't Megan's week. She had another dream the following night, making her even more exhausted than before. She was floating in mid-air, on the slow school broomstick, staring at the scoreboard. Which read three hundred to ten for Slytherin. She couldn't believe her eyes. How was it possible? They couldn't have lost that badly?! Kate, Angelina and Alicia were far too good! And Wood would never have let that many goals in!

“What the...”

Something, maybe instinct, made her look around. Her six team mates were flying before her, looking at her.

“Guys, what happened, how did we lose like this?”

“You're asking us?”

Megan then took a moment to gauge their expressions. And to Megan's horror, they were looking... resentful. Even Fred and George were looking disappointed.

“Guys...?”

The worst of all was Wood. A mixture of anger and disappointment burned in his features. And Megan knew why. Winning meant the world to him...

“You know what this year's Cup meant to me!” he said. “You knew it!”

“Of course I do... b-”

“I trusted you! I was counting on you!”

Tears of pain and confusion stung Megan's eyes.

“But I...”

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