Chapter 381: The Night Before the Match
If anyone asked what, exactly, Flint and Nott had done, the answer was always the same: someone would show them that scene of Flint on his knees, slapping his own face.
It drove the Slytherins furious, but there was no way to counter it.
And because Flint was still the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, their training suffered as well, which was precisely what Harry was delighted to see.
Apart from that, no one was happier than Oliver Wood.
As captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he and Flint had been at each other's throats for years. Now, in his final year, Wood was desperate to lead Gryffindor to the Quidditch Cup, and the strongest opponent standing in their way had always been Slytherin.
Now it was perfect. Flint had been thoroughly rattled by the whole affair, and Gryffindor's odds were looking far better.
It even made Wood's enthusiasm for joining the Kingdom of Order noticeably higher.
Days passed one after another.
Sirius Black did not appear again, yet people still talked. Every day, you could hear someone discussing Black, claiming they had seen him somewhere, or whispering about some hidden secret behind him.
Most of it was rumour, and almost none of it was ever confirmed.
Over the next stretch of time, Dudley focused on the wolfsbane and the werewolf blood Lupin had given him.
He already had a foundation of research into magical creatures like this. Perhaps he truly could find a way to cure lycanthropy.
After Defence Against the Dark Arts ended, Hermione let out a cry of outrage.
"Oh! Dudley, why didn't you tell me I didn't have to write the werewolf essay?"
"By the time I heard, you'd already filled two feet of parchment," Dudley said with a small shrug. "I figured you were nearly done anyway, so it was better not to tell you."
Hermione looked absolutely defeated.
She had put a great deal of effort into that werewolf essay, only for Lupin to cancel it entirely.
"See? I told you writing that fast was pointless," Ron said gleefully from the side, only to be silenced at once when Hermione shot him a murderous look.
"Don't even think about copying my homework next time," Hermione huffed and marched off.
"Wait, Hermione, I'm sorry, I was wrong!" Ron hurried after her.
Harry watched the two of them disappear down the corridor, smiling at first, then letting the smile fade.
"Professor McGonagall spoke to me today," Harry said.
"About what?" Dudley asked.
"About Black. But before she could start, I told her I already knew from Lupin."
Dudley gave him a look. "You did not have to jump in that quickly. You could have heard what Professor McGonagall had to say first. You might have learned something different."
Harry froze, then grimaced.
"How did I not think of that?"
"It's all right," Dudley said, steady and matter-of-fact. "It was probably the same story either way."
Harry nodded, then hesitated. "That was mostly it. But they still think they ought to put a few protective measures in place for me."
"You've probably noticed Percy lately. Whenever he's free, he's been glued to my side. I think Professor McGonagall put him on it."
Dudley nodded. He had noticed Percy constantly shadowing Harry.
"And there's Quidditch," Harry went on. "Our next match is Slytherin. Wood wants us to push harder than ever and make sure we take them down."
He looked a little dispirited as he said it. "Professor McGonagall's uneasy, though. She's worried I'll run into Black while we're training on the pitch."
"If you need it, I can go with you," Dudley said.
"No, it's fine," Harry replied quickly. "I just wanted to tell you. Professor McGonagall's already contacted Madam Hooch. She'll be there watching while we practise."
Dudley's expression did not change, but his tone went flat. "To be honest, if Black truly wanted to harm you, Madam Hooch would not be able to stop him."
"That's true," Harry said, then gave a small grin. "But my own ability isn't bad either, is it?"
"All right," Dudley said. "Just be careful. If you want me there, tell me ahead of time."
"It's fine. You should focus on your experiments," Harry said, half-teasing, half-earnest. "If you really invent a potion to cure werewolves, your name will ring through the entire wizarding world."
Dudley laughed. "Then I can sit back and collect patent royalties."
After parting with Harry, Dudley headed for the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.
There, he had set up a laboratory with exceptionally complete equipment, capable of supporting all kinds of potion work, neatly solving the many practical problems he kept running into while researching werewolves.
The Gryffindor versus Slytherin match was scheduled for Saturday.
So throughout that week, Gryffindor trained relentlessly, and Dudley barely saw Harry at all.
As the temperature dropped, the weather turned colder by the day.
Black clouds drifted low over the castle, pressing down on the sky until it felt oppressive. With the increasingly biting wind, and Black somewhere out there, hidden and untraceable, it was as if all of Hogwarts sat beneath a lid of shadow.
The only thing people could truly look forward to was the Quidditch match.
It was one of the few chances they had to shout themselves hoarse, to cheer without restraint for their own team. It was also the first Quidditch match of the term, long anticipated by nearly everyone.
On the morning of the match, Dudley woke to a faint rustling sound.
"Harry?"
He looked over. In the dimness, he could make out Harry already up, pulling on his clothes.
Dudley glanced towards the window. The night was still deep. There were not even any stars.
"You're awake?" Harry said at once. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"
"No," Dudley replied, sitting up. His eyes flicked to the clock on the table. It was only four in the morning. "Why are you up so early?"
"A cold gust woke me," Harry said. "After that, I couldn't get back to sleep, so I just got up."
He reached over and drew back the curtains around Dudley's bed.
"Nervous?" Dudley asked with a soft chuckle.
It was not Harry's first match, yet somehow he was anxious this time.
"No," Harry denied automatically, then paused and nodded anyway. "All right. A little."
"Wood wants the Cup so badly. The pressure's getting to me."
"You're the best Seeker Gryffindor's got," Dudley said, amused. "What are you afraid of?"
Then he glanced again at the silent, black world outside.
"Do you fancy taking a broom up with me?" Dudley suggested. "We can fly for a while, just the two of us, out in the dark."