"Otherwise that kiss should have worked better than a Strengthening Potion. But Ron looked completely used to it," Orli said, studying Hermione's lips with an investigating gaze. "You two..."
"No!" Hermione immediately covered her mouth in denial.
"So what have you two been doing all this time?" Orli asked in amazement. "You still haven't made it clear?"
"I don't know," Hermione said, sounding dejected. "He's had nothing but Quidditch on his mind lately, nervous every single day. We haven't even had time to be alone together. There's never been a good moment."
They climbed the high stands and found a sheltered corner to huddle together. The roar from the crowd grew louder and louder. Orli looked around—across from Gryffindor sat the Slytherin stands, students forming a sea of silver and green. She pulled two pairs of binoculars from her bag, handed one to Hermione, and perched the other on her nose to look toward the center of the pitch.
The players finally emerged from the changing room tunnel. Wearing their robes and carrying broomsticks over their shoulders, they marched onto the field in formation, sparking cheers and whistles.
"Look, Crabbe and Goyle!" Hermione pointed at two impossible-to-ignore hulking figures.
"Those two gorillas look like they can't tell the front end of a broomstick from the back," Orli said mockingly. "I honestly don't know how they found the Quidditch pitch without road signs."
They seemed to have replaced Slytherin's graduated Beaters, holding broomsticks in one hand and swinging new bats with the other. Malfoy stood in front of them, his pale blond hair gleaming in the sunlight. He was tapping the crown badge on his chest while grinning stupidly at Ron and Harry.
At Madam Hooch's whistle, both teams mounted their broomsticks. Orli's binoculars turned toward Fred and George—their movements looked natural, perhaps their boils had fully healed.
The game began.
Fourteen players soared into the air.
Fortunately, Ron hadn't lost all his senses. He flew straight toward the goal hoops. Harry climbed rapidly, dodging a Bludger and beginning to circle high above. At the other end of the pitch, Malfoy did the same.
"Angelina! Angelina's got the Quaffle, what a lovely girl, but she won't go out with me!" Lee Jordan shouted through his megaphone from the commentary box.
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall glared at him.
"Just a joke, Professor—she's dodged Montague! Oh no, she's been hit by a Bludger, Crabbe's doing—Montague's caught the Quaffle, racing back—George Weasley with a nice Bludger hit! Gryffindor Bludger flying toward Montague's head, Katie's got the Quaffle—"
Lee Jordan's voice echoed loudly above the pitch. Orli's binoculars stayed fixed on the Gryffindor players. In the brief pause when Lee stopped, a song rose loudly from the silver-green sea of Slytherin stands, their voices united in mocking chorus about Weasley being their king.
"Slytherin Keeper's made the save, he's passed to Warrington, Warrington racing away, past Alicia and Katie—this is a test for Gryffindor's new Keeper! He's the brother of Beaters George and Fred, another Weasley! Come on—Ron!"
But the cheers came from the Slytherin direction. Ron threw out his arms in a dive, but the Quaffle sailed straight under his armpit and directly through the center hoop.
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