TWENTY FOUR

DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY. THAT WAS WHAT they decided to call themselves. Rory found it fitting, she felt as if they were a baby Order of the Phoenix almost. The first few meetings had gone well. Just simple disarming spells to sharpen up the basics. It still felt good to get that fix Umbridge was depriving her of.

Andrew had written back swiftly to Rory's letter regarding her hatred for Umbridge.

Rory,

I wish I could say there was something you could do about this Umbridge woman but... unfortunately the Ministry yields too much power right now for even Dumbledore to stop their meddling. I hope you work things out, just try not to get in trouble. I'm very excited to see the match, I've called off work in advance so I won't miss it. Tonks and I will be in the visitors' section (yes, Tonks. She practically begged to go and I needed a companion). Let me know if you need anything else, dear.

With love,
Dad

However, that was the last time they could discuss the topic, given Umbridge began surveillancing their owls.

The Saturday of the match approached, but not easily. It had become nearly impossible for Gryffindor to get any practice in with Snape booking the field for Slytherin constantly. On top of that, Slytherin had began jinxing members of the Gryffindor team and threatened to hex them during the actual match. Despite the odds being stacked against them, Rory felt they had a good shot at winning.

The morning of the match, the seventh years on the team decided an early breakfast was best, so their stomachs would settle in time for the match. They went back to the common room straight after to get ready and listen to their pump-up music.

Rory personally loved pre-game jitters. To her, there was no better feeling than the rush of adrenaline the morning before a match. Seeing everyone in their Gryffindor colors, ready to support them. Students decorating the common room for the after party, painting their favorite players number on their faces, and giving them high fives or words of encouragement in passing. It all made Rory more excited than nervous.

As Angelina crouched over parchment, adjusting their game plans, Rory helped Fred and George set up the wireless in the common room and got it to play a heavy rock song Rory didn't recognize.

"I wish we could find the muggle stations." Fred sighed, "I really liked that Nirvana group."

Rory laughed and ruffled Fred's hair, "It's alright, love. I'm sure we can figure something out. Find a way to bring you some muggle music."

Halfway through the third song, Angelina decided they better head over to the pitch and wrangle up the other members.

"I'll go get Harry and Ron from breakfast," Angelina said, "George, go find Katie. Fred and Rory you two can head down and get dressed if you'd like."

They nodded and broke off. Fred and Rory began walking down to the pitch together, a bit silent a first.

"Nervous?" Rory asked. Fred only shrugged.

"You didn't hear it from me but... word on the street is a scout is coming to the match." The boy said in a whisper, even though no one was around.

Rory said, "Well that doesn't matter much to us, does it? We're not going to be professional Quidditch players."

"I know but... added pressure. Plus, it makes me nervous for Angelina."

They approached the Gryffindor locker room. They entered and set out all their gear. Rory began changing, like she always had for the past three years. Fred didn't start though.

He seemed to be in a trance, looking at the girl. He look as if his head was completely empty with his mouth slightly open.

"Fred..." she said slowly, "Are you alright?"

He nodded slowly, still not taking his eyes from her. Rory looked down and realized his gaze was fixated on her due to the fact she was wearing only a sports bra and the spandex shorts she wore under her uniform.

"Fred!" She said with a bit of attitude, "Seriously? We've been changing in this locker room together for three years now! This is nothing you've never seen before."

He shrugged, slowly breaking his trance, "Yeah but it's not like I ever fancied a peak before. You're really pretty..."

The girl smiled and rolled her eyes, "Thank you. But I'm not going to make out with you. Not the middle of the locker room."

"How did you know I was going to ask that?"

She shrugged and slipped on her thick socks, "Because you ask me that every day."

[][][][][]

ANDREW AND TONKS WAITED anxiously in the visitors' section, eager for the game to start. It had been a while since either of them were at Hogwarts, it seemed strange being back.

Andrew got flashes of nostalgia as students filled in the stands clad in their team colors, and the band played the never-changing fight songs.

Quidditch games were the most important thing to half the student body, and it seemed many others outside of Hogwarts felt the same. Parents and old friends surrounded Andrew and Tonks. The man noticed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy behind him, proudly boasting about their son to a woman with dirty blonde hair next to him.

The woman was writing down information in a small leather bound journal.

"Our son, Draco, is the best seeker Hogwarts has seen in a long time — got the position second year!" Lucius smirked.

"Yes, well... I guess we'll see," the blonde woman sighed, "I'll keep an eye out for him."

Andrew and Tonks exchanged a confused look as the woman turned back to face the pitch. She scribbled something down in her journal and looked at Andrew.

"And who do you know playing today?" She asked as if her and Andrew were life long friends and not strangers.

"Oh – my daughter, Rory. Gryffindor chaser." He nodded. She jotted down another note.

Tonks coughed to hide her laughter at Andrew's confused expression.

"Sorry, who are you?" He asked with the utmost politeness.

The woman looked at Andrew with wide eyes and put her journal under her arm and extended her hand.

"How rude of me! I'm Cordelia Elliot! I work for the British and Irish Quidditch league. I get sent by coaches in need of players to try and find potential recruits. I go around to school matches as well as minor league games." She explained proudly. Andrew noticed as he faced her, she was quite a beautiful woman. Her smile instantly lifted his spirits. Her blonde hair fell just above her shoulders and shook slightly when she spoke.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Andrew Harrison." He shook her hand and Tonks slightly nudged him in the ribs.

"This is Nymphadora Tonks," he nudged his head towards the woman (who's hair was currently half gold, half red in Gryffindor spirit).

She waved, "Hello! You can call me Tonks. Actually, please just call me Tonks."

"Got it," Cordelia smiled, "What number is your daughter? Is she a seventh year?"

Andrew nodded, "Yeah. She's number five."

"Don't see a ring on your finger." Cordelia said, "Holy shit! That was so fucking nosy! Why did I say that? Sorry you don't have to answer —"

Andrew smiled and shook his head, "Don't worry. I haven't been married in twelve years. It's... it's a long story. But since we're asking, are you — "

The woman began laughing and shook her head, "Oh absolutely not. I was engaged once, then I fled the country. You didn't need to know that, I'm oversharing I'm sorry."

Just then, the crowed erupted in cheers and the Slytherin players stepped on the field. Andrew smiled and began planning how he was going to ask Cordelia for a way to communicate with her in the future.

"Hey, Andy," Tonks whispered, "You're blushing."

[][][][][]

"ALRIGHT, IT'S TIME." ANGELINA SAID, checking her watch. "Hands in."

Everyone on the team put their hands in to the circle they created with their bodies. Angelina gave everyone a look and a nod.

She sighed, "Remember, don't let them get to you. They play dirty. We're better than that. Don't stoop to their level. Alright? Good luck guys. George, take it away."

George smirked and cupped his hands around his mouth to echo the sound. For years he had led their pre team chants, a tradition passed down from centuries of players.

"Okay Gryffindor!" He shouted with a grin, "I wanna hear you roar!"

The other players shouted back in a roar with a great crescendo all with proud smiles on their faces.

After they had officially been hyped up, they lined up single file and tapped the top of the door frame with the end of their brooms (another century old tradition that was meant to bring them luck).

"Captains shake hands," ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch. Angelina and the Slytherin captain, Graham Montague reached out and shook hands. It seemed the boy was forcing a tight grip, but Angelina did not wince. "Mount your brooms..."

Madam Hooch blew the whistle and all fourteen players flew upward. Rory, Katie Bell, and Angelina placed themselves in the formation they'd been practicing, and Angelina gained possession of the Quaffle like they'd planned.

"And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me —" Lee's voice rang out throughout the stadium,

"JORDAN!" yelled Professor McGonagall.

"Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest — and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's — ouch — been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Rory Archer and Archer's away —"

Rory held the Quaffle tightly under her arm. The wind whistled in her ears as she flew. She saw a Bluger out of the corner of her eye spinning towards her and pointed her brown sharply downward to avoid it.

" — Close call, Rory! The crowed is loving this! Just listen to them, what's that they're singing?" Lee paused his commentary and Rory's focus turned to the chants as she still held the quaffle close.

"Weasley cannot save a thing, He cannot block a single ring, That's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is our King. Weasley was born in a bin, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley will make sure we win, Weasley is our King!"

Rory angrily passed the Quaffle to Angelina as the Slytherins sang. She knew that they would surly come up with something to taunt them. She tried not to let it get to her and kept playing.

"Come on now, Angelina — looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! — SHE SHOOTS — SHE — aaaah..." The Slytherin Keeper blocked her shot and the green and silver team gained possession.

"— so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!"

Rory saw as the Quaffle passed by Ron and into the Gryffindor hoop.

"Slytherin score!" Lee said with a bit of distain, "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin — bad luck, Ron..."

The Slytherins sang even louder: "WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN, HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN..."

"— and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch —" cried Lee.

Rory flew beside Angelina as the girl snapped at Harry who sometimes got too invested in watching the game instead of playing it.

"— and it's Warrington again," she heard Lee say, "who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Rory, come on now Angelina, you can take him — turns out you can't — but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell — er — drops it too — so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he's off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!"

Rory gripped her broom harder with a bit of anger and flew towards the Gryffindor hoops. Once again, Slytherin scored and another chorus of "Weasley is our king" erupted.

And then again, they scored, and again. They were up forty points. Rory flew across the pitch, and saw another bludger fly towards her. Before she had time to duck, it was whacked away by Fred and she was safe.

"Thanks Freddie," she said.

"Any time." He winked back.

"What a sweet moment from Gryffindor's hottest new couple we all just witnessed!" Lee announced.

"LEE JORDAN!" McGonnagal snapped.

"Professor! It's true! Oh! Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on now Angelina — GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's forty-ten, forty- ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle... Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey — Archer intervenes, Rory takes the Quaffle, passes it swiftly to Johnson. Johnson to Bell, this looks good — I mean bad — Bell's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possession again..."

Rory nervously watched as she saw Harry and Malfoy both notice the snitch. She couldn't pay too much attention to them, and quickly shifted her focus back to the Quaffle.

However, before she could even fly across the pitch, Madam Hooch blew her whistle. And Lee shouted, "HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Rory sighed with relief and dismounted her broom. However, above her she winced as she saw Harry rub the back of his head, he must have been hit a Bludger.

He seemed fine and began dismounting with the others. Rory felt a strong pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind and spin her around triumphantly.

"Fred!" She giggled, turning to face him. She gave him a quick kiss and smiled.

"We won!" He smiled.

Rory nodded, "Indeed we did. Now, I propose we go back to the common room and — "

However, something nearby had caught both their attention. The voice of Draco Malfoy travelled around the pitch.

"— we couldn't fit in useless loser either — for his father, you know —"

Fred slowly turned his head towards the boy and his body stiffened.

"Fred. Don't." Rory said, grabbing his arm tightly, "He's trying to get a rise out of you, the little punk! He's just upset he lost!" However, Fred seemed to let Rory's words go in one ear and out the other and be broke free of the girl's grasp.

"— but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" said Malfoy, sneering. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay —"

Harry grabbed George, who had the same anger in his eyes as Fred. Rory, Katie, and Angelina held Fred back as Malfoy continued.

"Or perhaps," said Malfoy, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it —"

It seemed Harry didn't realize what he had done, and let go of George. Both boys had leapt at the boy with a lionlike fierceness.

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!" Rory cried as she continued holding tightly to Fred's arm.

"You! Nasty! Piece! Of! Shit!" George yelled, him and Harry beating on Malfoy. Madam Hooch suddenly noticed and blew her whistle.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" The woman shouted, and the boys were separated.

"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch. "I've never seen behavior like it — back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"