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the-al-chemist · 2 years

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Artemis Hexley and the Return to the Riddles

Chapter 11: Foul Play

A/N: With the Quidditch season becoming increasingly ugly, the players try to find ways to not fall foul of Marcus Flint’s schemes. Hufflepuff team members belong to @that-scouse-wizard and @thatravenpuffwitch. Warnings: description of sports-related injury, mentions of ableism.

Artemis may have missed the Quidditch match in her attempt to uncover the identity of the stranger leaving messages for the Cabal, but she didn’t mind. Thanks to Tonks and Penny, she was given a full debriefing on the game over breakfast the following morning.

“Honestly, you thought our match was bad,” Tonks muttered, shaking her violet-haired head. “I’ve never seen a game played with so many fouls.”

“Well, that’s Marcus Flint for you,” said Penny, leaning in towards them and lowering her voice. “Murphy McNully says that he’s the youngest team Quidditch Captain there’s been in over fifty years. But, Waveney Wiley also told me that Marcus’s dad threatened the previous captain so that he would be one this year. You see, originally the captaincy was meant to go to Bakari Nyoka-”

“Their Keeper?”

“He was their Keeper, but he’s quit the team. The captaincy fiasco was one thing, but after he heard Flint’s plans for the team to play as dirty as they have been… Well, that was the last quill for him.”

“What I’d like to know,” said Tonks, slapping her palm down on the table so hard she almost tipped over her pumpkin juice, “is how we stop them from taking the whole bloody Cup. They thrashed us, and now they’ve absolutely batteredRavenclaw. This new method they’re using is paying off, and we can’t stand for it. Someone’s got to do something!”

But Artemis couldn’t see what could be done. If neither their match nor Ravenclaw’s could be re-played, the Slytherins would remain in the lead for the Quidditch Cup.

However, it seemed like Tonks was not the only one trying to think of a way to stop Flint’s foul play from succeeding. As she and her friends left the Great Hall, they found all three of the other Quidditch team captains engaged in what looked like a somewhat furtive conversation at the other end of the Hufflepuff table.

“We are well and truly out of the running this year. There’s no chance of us winning the Cup now,” Andre was saying, a comment to which Murphy made a low humming noise in response.

“Technically, there’s very few things that have an absolute chance of zero,” he told Andre. “But, I see your point. With Gryffindor’s win in your first match, and Slytherin beating you-”

“Oh, darling. There’s need to beat around the bush,” Andre shook his head sadly. “They annihilated us.”

“In that case, Slytherin’s annihilation of you yesterday gives them a point lead of five hundred and forty over you. That does make your likelihood of winning the Cup incredibly slim, I’m afraid. Less than thirteen percent. Charlie’s team would need to beat us with a margin of two hundred and sixty just to put them on an even keel with Slytherin going into the final, and then they’d have to not fall foul of Slytherin’s… well, fouls.”

“True,” said Andre. “Unless…”

Charlie’s red eyebrows furrowed. “Unless?”

“Well, I heard that a good strategy was right up Murphy’s alley.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

That was exactly what Artemis, who had paused to listen to the conversation, wanted to know. Apparently, Tonks was just as curious as she was, because she linked arms with Artemis and steered her over towards the boys.

“Wotcher, lads,” she said, plonking herself down next to Charlie and squashing his chin between her thumb and forefinger by way of greeting. “What’s this? Quidditch strategising, are we?”

“Yes, actually,” said Andre. He pouted slightly. “Although this is a meeting for captains, so-”

“That’s a shame, Andre, because this table is looking rather male dominated.”

“Well, now it’s looking rather Hufflepuff dominated.”

But Tonks was not going to give up that easily. “I just think you need to have more diversity in the group.”

“I think we’re already pretty diverse,” Andre replied. “Charlie’s poor, I’m black and gay, and Murphy is in a wheelchair.”

“Precisely. If there’s going to be a strategy, he’ll have to convey it to one of us in the air, won’t he?” Tonks raised her violet eyebrows and Andre sighed heavily.

“What were you saying, Andre?” Charlie asked diplomatically, and Andre shot a sulky look at both Tonks and Artemis before replying:

“Okay, so we all agree that Slytherin simply can’t be allowed to win the Cup this year, don’t we?”

“Alright.”

“Yeah.”

“Agreed.”

“Yes, but allowing doesn’t come into it,” Murphy shook his head. “It’s Quidditch, there are too many variables over which we have no control. A good strategist allows for these variables, but even then, none of us can have complete control over the outcomes of the games.”

“Can’t we?” Andre raised his eyebrows. “Because I think we could, darling. After all, of the three matches left this season, two of them are being played by our teams alone.”

Artemis frowned. “Wait. You don’t mean…”

“Rigging the matches?” Charlie finished her question for her. “Andre, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Charlie, my love, I’m afraid that I’m being deadly serious.”

“But that’s cheating!”

“So what? It’s no less than what Flint and his lot of poorly accessorised Neanderthals have been doing all year,” Andre shrugged. “They want to play dirty, we are all more than capable of that. Some of us more so than others, I expect.” Smirking, his gaze drifted down to the knees of Artemis’ jeans, still ripped and grass-stained from her tussle with the Whomping Willow the day before. “Artemis, darling, I don’t even want to know what you’ve been up to recently.”

Artemis scowled at him, and he winked at her theatrically. Charlie cleared his throat loudly and the attention turned back to him.

“Andre, we can’t rig matches,” he said shortly. “Cheating like that, it’s just stooping to their level.”

“Okay, I see what you’re trying to say, but hear me out. Slytherin have cheated their way to a win in every single game this season. And they’ve hurt players in the process. Poor Abigail is going to have a black eye for weeks after what Flint did to her yesterday, and he’s laughing about it. The boy thinks he’s invincible, and he needs to be taught otherwise. Now, is it not our job as upstanding senior students to teach him that valuable lesson?”

“It still sounds like cheating to me,” muttered Artemis. “Right, Tonks? Tonks?”

But rather than doubtful, Tonks looked tempted.

“I mean, he has a point,” she shrugged. “Normally, I’d say no way, but Marcus is such a prat. Just look at how he was with you at the start of our match, Murphy.” She gave Murphy a sympathetic look, and he inclined his head. “I just think that if we can stop him from getting the satisfaction of winning, it might just wipe that stupid smirk off his face. I’m more concerned about how we do it without getting caught, honestly.”

“Ah, I’m already one step ahead of you there, Dora,” said Andre, looking straight at Murphy. “Thankfully, we have a master statistician in our midst. So, the next match is played by all your lot. We work out the biggest point margin Hufflepuff can beat Gryffindor by to give them a good advantage going into the final without it looking suspicious, and then, after Gryffindor play Slytherin - and hopefully win, as long as their Beaters don’t knock Charlie clean out of the sky-”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, Andre.”

“You’re welcome. Now, after your match against Slytherin, it’s us against you, Murphy. What I’m thinking is that once we know how many points Slytherin will have at the end of the season, you might be able to work out the most statistically plausible way to get enough points in our match to take the Cup from right under Flint’s nose. Sound doable to you?”

“Theoretically speaking, yes,” Murphy said quietly. “I just don’t know how I feel about cheating my way to a win.”

“Well, don’t look at it as cheating, just… making it an even ground,” Andre shrugged and rose from his seat. “Have a little think about it, darlings, and let me know the plan.”

With that, as well as a swish of his scarf, Andre left. Charlie and Tonks soon followed suit, still quietly debating the issue as they walked out of the Great Hall. Murphy, for once, was completely silent, staring thoughtfully at the mug of coffee on the table in front of him.

“You’re not considering this, are you?” Artemis asked him, and he said nothing in response. “Murphy, this is wrong! Think about Orion, and what he’d say about balance and fairness and… I dunno, stars or fate or something.” Murphy laughed, but it was a hollow laugh, and Artemis sighed. “You’re really thinking about doing it, aren’t you?”

“Artemis, you saw the way Flint looked at me before the first match of the season.”

“Yeah, but-”

“People have looked at me that way ever since I can remember. Like they think I’m less than them, just because I’m in this thing,” Murphy gestured to his wheelchair and shook his head. “I’ve always been ‘that wizard in the wheelchair’, and then I got this captaincy and thought that it would be different, but… Now I’m just ‘that captain in the wheelchair’. And I see people looking, I know they all think that I’m not capable, because I can’t ride a broomstick, and I want to prove them wrong. Not just Flint, all of them.”

“I know, and you will. You’re a brilliant captain, even without a broom, because you are so good at numbers and strategies and all the other stuff I’m not clever enough to understand, but you are. You’re really clever, actually.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. You know, the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Ravenclaw.” Artemis shook her head, and Murphy continued, “I asked to be in Hufflepuff instead.”

Artemis frowned. “Why?”

“Because of what Helga Hufflepuff always said: ‘I’ll take the lot, and treat them just the same’. I thought that the chances of me being able to fit in would be higher if I were in Hufflepuff, that I’d be seen as an equal to everyone else for a change. I just wanted to be treated fairly. But life isn’t fair, is it?”

“I guess not,” said Artemis. “But Murphy, rigging Quidditch matches won’t make it any fairer.”

“No. It won’t,” Murphy smiled sadly. “Which is why I won’t do it.”

“You won’t?”

“No. If I’m going to prove that I can be a winning Quidditch Captain, I’m going to win fair and square. It’s not impossible. Nothing is, statistically speaking.”

The following weekend, Artemis and the rest of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team gathered in the changing tents, the sounds of the rest of the school echoing in through the canvas from the stadium outside. Murphy cleared his throat as he wheeled himself inside, and the team picked up their broomsticks to gather around him.

“The match should start in precisely one and a half minutes,” he told them, “so I won’t spend long giving a speech. However, I do want to make sure that you’re all clear on our strategy. I’ve been speaking to Weasley about it, and we’ve both decided that given Slytherin’s latest performances, we want to make this a good, clean game, with no fouls whatsoever from either side. Let’s show them how real sportsmen-“

“And women,” Tonks interjected, waving one hand in the direction of the majority of the team members and inadvertently hitting David Willows in the face.

“And women” - Murphy nodded - “play Quidditch.”

The start of the match was far more sportsperson-ly than that of the last match Artemis had played. Before the game began, Murphy and Charlie shook hands under the watchful gaze of Madam Hooch’s hawklike eyes, each nodding at the other in recognition as they did so.

“Good luck, mate.”

“And to you.”

Murphy went to Madam Hooch’s side and Charlie returned to his position on the starting line-up, ready for the four Quidditch balls to be released. As the Golden Snitch was freed from the box, he cocked one eyebrow at Artemis and shrugged, a small smirk playing on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him and glared stubbornly, and he laughed, immediately rising into the air as the Quaffle was released.

Artemis set off after him, as per the strategy Murphy had given her before the match; Charlie was incredibly good at slipping away out of sight when he wanted to get an advantage on the Snitch, and neither she nor Murphy intended to let him do just that.

Once the the game was in play, it was just as clean as Murphy and Charlie had promised it would be, but that did not meant that the competition wasn’t fierce. If anything, the match was faster paced than any Artemis had ever seen or played in. Barely thirty minutes into the game, goals had been scored and saved by both teams, which seemed incredibly evenly matched.

“Spectacular save there from Hufflepuff Keeper, Amelia Booth,” announced Lee Jordan the commentator. “The score remains twenty to Hufflepuff, ten to Gryffindor.” Amelia threw the Quaffle back onto the pitch and Jordan continued, “Booth passes to Costa, Costa to Haywood, Haywood to Hopper.”

Below, the Hufflepuff Chasers were advancing across the length of the pitch in formation, making small passes between themselves. Artemis watched them for almost a minute before realising that, in doing so, she had stopped marking Charlie, who had taken the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. She swore under her breath as she looked for him, and saw him several yards away from her, hovering metres above her head. She rose up to meet him, and as she did, one of the Hufflepuff Chasers accelerated towards the scoring zone, Quaffle in hand, her curly blonde hair whipping in the wind behind her.

“That’s Hopper of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle again, and she’s flying straight for the Gryffindor goalposts! She shoots, and… YES! Well done, Oliver! I mean, Wood saves the goal, not that I care as an impartial commentator. Gryffindor’s reserve Chaser Angelina Johnson picks up the Quaffle - shame she can’t pick up the hints I’ve been trying to give her all year, but that’s girls for you…”

“Jordan!”

“Sorry, Professor. Anyway, Johnson loses the Quaffle to Beatrice Haywood, what force of nature that girl is. Also a force of nature, however, is Fred Weasley… Or is that George? It’s hard to tell from here. Anyway, a Bludger from one of the Weasleys is sent straight for Haywood, but it looks like Tonks of Hufflepuff is getting ready to- Ooh, that was close!”

Several feet below Artemis, Tonks had entered the fray to beat a Bludger away from Bea Haywood, and in her enthusiasm to do so, almost hit Angelina Johnson with her bat. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Charlie dove down to see what had happened, Artemis instinctively following behind him.

“I’m so sorry,” Tonks was saying to the Gryffindor Chaser, the hand that wasn’t holding her bat pressed to her mouth. “I didn’t hit you, did I?”

The girl shook her head and after a brief discussion with Madam Hooch, it was decided that, as Tonks’ error was clearly accidental and no harm had been done, that no foul had been committed.

“Just be glad that you missed,” said Madam Hooch, with a stern glare at Tonks. “Free pass to Gryffindor.”

“We don’t need a free pass, Madam Hooch. There wasn’t a foul.”

Tonks shook her head. “Nah, Charlie. Have the free pass.”

While Charlie and Tonks were debating with Madam Hooch which team should take possession of the Quaffle once the game restarted, Artemis took the opportunity to scan the pitch for a glimpse of the Golden Snitch. As luck would have it, she caught sight of the tiny glimmer of gold flitting around the opposite side of the pitch. A furtive glance at Charlie confirmed her suspicion that he was too busy to have seen it, but whilst the time out was still in session, she couldn’t fly after the ball. However, as the Quaffle was handed back to Angelina Johnson and Madam Hooch raised her whistle to her lips, Artemis allowed her broom to drift slowly in the direction of the Snitch, ready to begin her chase.

As the match recommenced, Artemis zoned in on the tiny ball, her eyes fixed on the sparkle of gold in the distance as she pushed her broom forward to accelerate. Having drifted away from Charlie during the time out, she was a lot closer to it than he was, but she knew that her advantage wouldn’t last long. As much as she would have hated to admit it to herself or to him, she knew that he was a much better flier than she was.

Sure enough, over the sound of the wind blowing past her ears, she could just about hear Lee Jordan announcing: “Hexley in hot pursuit of the Snitch, but Weasley is gaining on her!”

But though Charlie was the better flier, she had the better broom. And though he had skill on his side, Artemis had the wind on hers; it caught the tail of her broom as she pushed forward to accelerate further and sent her flying faster still, away from Charlie and towards the Snitch.

She might beat him this time, she realised. She might actually beat him.

“Looks like Hexley’s managed to put some more distance between herself and one Weasley, but she’s heading for two more!”

In either side of her peripheral vision, bright red blurs were approaching Artemis, and as they flew closer, she was able to recognise the Weasley twins, both with their Beater’s bats raised.

On her right, Fred swung at a Bludger and it whizzed her way, and she ducked out of its path, leaving it to fly over her head and straight towards George on her left. He swung, too, and the Bludger was sent back in her direction. She swerved away from George’s Bludger, but she had now been delayed in her chase for the Snitch.

“Have you lost something, Artemis?” George called out, as Artemis scanned the pitch once more. But the Snitch was gone. Fred began to laugh, and she glared at him.

And then she saw it. Somehow, the Snitch had managed to fly back towards her without her realising, and was now hovering just by Fred’s ear. She smirked, and flew towards him, once more in pursuit of the ball.

“Stop her, Freddie!”

But it was too late, the twins had sent their Bludger in the opposite direction, and there was nothing Fred could do to stop her, not now that the Snitch was so tantalisingly close, so close she could almost reach out and-

SMACK!

A deafeningly loud noise reverberated around Artemis’ skull, accompanied by a searing pain at the back of her head. Her ears ringing slightly and white dots starting to appear in her vision, Artemis raised her hands to the spot from which the pain was radiating, and felt that her hair was damp. She pulled her hands away and looked down at her now red palms, which were starting to look fuzzy.

“Huh,” she said, as she slid sideways off her broom and fell down into a world that had suddenly turned black.

The first thing Artemis saw was a deep red light. Then she heard the voices, lots of them, overlapping with each other and with the quiet ringing noise that echoed between her ears. She frowned, and after feeling her eyebrows move, opened her eyelids to reveal a shadowy figure of a person standing over her, their face obscured by the blinding light behind them. She blinked, and another shadow appeared, and then another.

“Okay, she’s awake,” said a voice - Chiara’s voice. “Everyone give her some air, please.” The shadows moved away, and Artemis attempted to push herself up to a seated position, but a hand pressed on her shoulder, and Chiara’s voice told her, “Don’t get up. Just stay there and get your bearings, while I look at your head.”

Artemis nodded - it hurt to nod - and propped herself up onto her elbows to see what was going on around her. The rest of Quidditch players had landed their brooms, and were gathered around the pitch nearby, with Tonks and Bea Haywood at Artemis’ side, and Charlie and the Weasley twins deep in a loud and obviously heated conversation with Madam Hooch and Murphy.

“You’ve taken a really nasty knock here, Artemis,” Chiara told her.

“A Bludger?”

“Not quite,” Tonks muttered darkly, holding up a large wooden bat almost identical to her own. “Turns out the twins were so inspired by my accidental foul, they decided to give it a go themselves.”

Said twins were rushing over to Artemis, with Charlie and Madam Hooch continuing their conversation as they followed behind. Charlie was still almost shouting - or perhaps his voice just sounded louder because of how badly her head hurt - despite the fact that the twins were now at her side apologising profusely.

“We’re both really sorry, Artemis. Are you okay?” one of them asked, looking less anxious after Chiara nodded. Behind him, Charlie’s face was still tense.

“No thanks to you and your bat,” he said, in a voice that was laced with barely disguised fury.

“Hey! It wasn’t my bat, it was Fred’s. Honestly, you call yourself our brother…”

“We can’t delay the rest of the match forever,” said Madam Hooch impatiently. “Poppy, is she fit to…” Her voice tailed off and she did a double take at Chiara before asking, “Miss Lobosca, where is Madam Pomfrey?”

“She’s had to go and treat a student who’s been had a nasty run-in the Whomping Willow,” Chiara told her. “She asked me to take over here.”

“Right. Well, do you think Hexley fit to play?”

“I don’t think-”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Artemis, sitting bolt upright and ignoring the way the world began to spin around her as she did so. “I can keep playing.”

Chiara sighed. “Artemis, I think you need to sit this one out. You have a concussion.”

“No. No, I want to play,” Artemis insisted, and the small crowd around her exchanged looks of doubt. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. And Fred and George have both apologised, so it’s all good.”

She gestured at the twins, who frowned in perfect unison. No one said anything for a moment, until Charlie cleared his throat.

“Uh, Artemis… That’s just George,” he said, stepping sideways to reveal another twin behind him. “Fred’s over here.”

It was strange, but now that Charlie mentioned it, there were two of everyone nearby: two Chiaras, two Tonkses, two Murphys, two Madam Hooches, and two of each of Professors McGonagall and Sprout, who had just arrived at the scene.

“Is everything under control here?”

“Certainly, Minerva. We were just ascertaining whether Miss Hexley was in a fit state to continue playing. As it happens, she is not.”

“I am,” Artemis protested, clambering up to her feet and swaying slightly, earning herself a fresh round of sceptical stares. “I am. Right, Chiara? Tonks? Murphy?” When none of them agreed, she turned to the person she knew would back her up. “Charlie?”

But even Charlie wasn’t on her side today, because he shrugged and shook his head.

“You’re concussed, Artie. I’m sorry.”

Furious, Artemis’ jaw dropped open, and though she tried to protest, it was no use, for everyone had already started to speak over her and she was feeling dizzy again.

“There we have it,” said Madam Hooch. “Let’s get back to business, without Hexley.”

“And without Fred and George,” Charlie added, and all eyes turned to him, with the twins protesting in overlapping voices.

“What?”

“You can’t send us off!”

“We’re family!”

“It’s Quidditch!”

“They have a point, Weasley. Sending uninjured players off the pitch is not in the rules.”

“I don’t care, McNully. You and I agreed we’d have a clean match, and I told my team as much. If they don’t want to listen to my instructions, I don’t want them on my pitch.”

Professor McGonagall tutted. “Really, Weasley. I don’t think that’s quite necessary.”

“But I do,” Charlie replied shortly. “And with all due respect, Professor, I’m the Captain of this team, not you.”

With that, he mounted his broomstick and took to the sky, leaving the others in a baffled silence that was broken by the sound of Tonks’ low whistle.

“Well, Bludger me.”

Artemis was escorted directly to the Hospital Wing, unable even to watch the rest of the match, though why she couldn’t have waited for the game to finish before she left, she wasn’t sure. Madam Pomfrey was too busy attending to her other patient to do anything but occasionally glance at Artemis and make sure that she was still breathing, and was still preoccupied when the rest of the school returned from the pitch and the sound of hundreds of footsteps echoed into the hospital from the corridors outside.

Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey being so busy meant that Chiara, Tonks, and Penny were able to sneak into the Hospital Wing without her noticing, their pockets filled with sweets, and told her about the remainder of the match in hushed voices.

“Well, Charlie obviously caught the Snitch-”

“Of course he did,” Artemis muttered with a roll of her eyes.

“- but, because Gryffindor had no Beaters to stop them, the Hufflepuff Chasers did manage to score several goals before that,” Penny continued, smiling proudly. “Bea scored a hat-trick, you know.”

“Good for her.”

“It means that even though Gryffindor won, the difference between the scores wasn’t that big,” Tonks said, popping a piece of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum into her mouth. “Murphy said that if Slytherin and Gryffindor end up fairly evenly matched and we do well against Ravenclaw, we still have a decent shot at the Cup, at least.”

Artemis nodded, but it wasn’t the Cup that she was annoyed about. Before she could say anything, however, the doors to the Hospital Wing opened once more, and the girls were joined by Charlie Weasley and Jae Kim.

“Wotcher, lads. What brings you here?”

“I wanted to make sure my idiot brothers hadn’t done too much damage,” said Charlie, with smile that was almost a grimace.

“And you, Jae?”

“Huh? Oh, I just thought I’d come and see how Hex is doing, you know,” Jae shuffled over and peered at the back of Artemis’ head. “Hm. Looks like you’ve been pretty well patched up. Well done, Chiara. Good job. Very impressive.”

His hand flinched as if he were about to give Chiara a thumbs up, but hastily stuffed both fists into his pockets as the others stared at him.

“Right,” Chiara blinked. “Thank you, Jae.”

“You’re welcome. Any time.”

Jae cleared his throat, and Charlie shook his head at him. Judging by the awkward silence, Artemis was not the only one who didn’t know what to say.

“So, anyway…”

“What is this?” a sharp voice echoed through the Hospital Wing as Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind a curtain that was closed around one of the beds. “This isn’t visiting hours. All of you, out!” Reluctantly, Artemis’ friends filed out of the hospital. All except one. “You too, Mr Weasley.”

“Oh, I’m not visiting. I’m injured.”

“You don’t look injured to me.”

Charlie held up his right hand and grimaced. “I think it might be a repetitive strain injury. Seeker’s hand, you know?”

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Well, you’ll just have to wait. I’m dealing with a serious Herbology-related incident at the moment.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” Charlie shrugged, and once Madam Pomfrey was safely back behind the curtain, lowered his voice to tell Artemis, “I don’t actually have Seeker’s hand.”

“I know.”

“I don’t even know if Seeker’s hand is a real thing.”

“Not in the hand you don’t use to catch Snitches with, it isn’t,” Artemis muttered, glaring at Charlie’s left hand. “I nearly caught that one today. I would’ve had it if it weren’t for Fred.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am. Really sorry. I actually brought you something to make up for it,” Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a walnut-sized golden ball, which he held between his thumb and forefinger, smiling. “See? It’s the Snitch. They can only use them for a game once, so McGonagall said I could keep it. I thought you might want it.”

Artemis pouted.

“I don’t want your pity Snitch,” she said, her haughty expression giving way when she saw the disappointed look in Charlie’s eyes. She sighed heavily and threw herself backwards, trying her hardest not to wince as her head hit the pillow. “I just… I’ve never gotten to play against you in a proper match, only in fun games before. And every time, you’ve won. This was the first time I would have been able to beat you, and it was the last time we’ll ever get to play against each other, so I won’t get another chance.”

“Of course you will,” Charlie said, his eyebrows furrowing.

“No, because we’re all leaving Hogwarts, aren’t we? We’re going to go off and do our own things, and we won’t be all together here anymore.”

“I suppose not. But that doesn’t mean that we won’t be friends anymore, or that none of us will ever see each other again.”

“It doesn’t?”

“I mean, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, that’s for sure,” said Charlie, half-smiling. “He held the Snitch out to her once more. “Go on. Take the pity Snitch.” When Artemis hesitated, he added, “Take it, and after exams are done we can release it and race for it. Loser buys dinner once we’ve left Hogwarts, deal?”

“Fine. Deal,” Artemis said, taking the Snitch from Charlie’s outstretched hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Charlie sighed. “Look, I know it feels like everything is ending. It feels that way for me too, but to you it’s worse, because here… Well, Hogwarts is like a home to you, isn’t it?” Artemis said nothing, just turned the Snitch over in her fingers. “I’m not saying it to upset you, I just… I’m trying to say that you’re not going to lose anything worth losing. Not a home, not a family. Alright?”

It took Artemis a second to reply, but she nodded her head and whispered, “Yeah. Alright.”

“Good.” For a moment, Charlie looked like he might hug her, but instead he shrugged and looked over his shoulder at the curtain behind which Madam Pomfrey had disappeared before adding, “Right. I should go before Madam Pomfrey comes back from treating whoever it was that got Whomped earlier and realises there’s nothing wrong with my hand.”

Artemis froze. “What?”

“There’s nothing actually wrong with-”

“No, I mean… Someone got Whomped today?”

“Yeah, Chiara mentioned it during the time-out. I’m guessing that’s what Madam Pomfrey meant by the ‘serious Herbology-related incident’.”

“Who was it?”

“I dunno, I was on the pitch,” Charlie frowned. “Why?”

Artemis opened her mouth to answer his question, but shut it again as Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the curtain and walked across the Hospital Wing to her office. She shook her head.

“It’s not important. I can tell you later,” she said. When Charlie gave her a quizzical look, she nodded her head at the door. “Quickly, before Madam Pomfrey gets back.”

Charlie still looked as if he wanted to know more, but he made his escape while he could. Once he was gone, Artemis glanced at Madam Pomfrey’s door before padding across to the bed with the closed curtains and pulling them open. The moment she did, Artemis’ mouth fell open.

“It was you.”

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