She had meant it when she said that she would be intensifying their training regime in the fortnight leading up to the Quidditch final. They trained three times a week despite the fact that their exams were also approaching and then had nearly an entire day on the pitch on Saturdays. During the week they would train from when they finished dinner until the sun sank too low for them to see any longer. Despite their fatigue, they could not help but feel uplifted; they doubted that Gryffindor had ever had better chances and they were hopefully going to retain the Quidditch Cup for the seventh year in a row. She had already enlisted Fred and George to set up a monster fireworks display once they had finished watching the match and had warned Dobby that they would be needing lots of food and Butterbeer for the party in Gryffindor tower.
Despite her excitement, however, she could not shake the nagging voice in her head that kept on warning her how much more dangerous it was going to be with Sirius, Lupin, Tonks and all the Weasleys, bar Percy, in the castle. She had gotten away with disappearing before, but now; her absence was far more likely to be noticed when there were more people to notice that she was gone. She was certain that she would have to wait until they left; she was sure that Mr and Mrs Weasley would head off before the evening was out. As would Fred and George, they had a business to run after all. Tonks would surely have to go to work the next day and that would mean that Lupin would follow. Bill and Fleur would have work and Charlie would be heading straight back to Romania. That only left Sirius who would; she didn't doubt, be staying for the entirety of the party and would probably end up asleep on the common room sofa. The invisibility cloak would, therefore, be a necessity if she would want to pass Sirius unnoticed; he was incredibly sensitive to surrounding noise even when he was asleep, a by-product of his twelve years in Azkaban. It did not bother her; she had taken it as a precaution before so it was not something she had not expected.
On the morning of the match she was up and pacing the common room at six o'clock sharp. Her stomach was doing a mixture of jumping-jacks and sickening back flips as she waited for Ron, Harry and Ginny to wake up. Her eyes lingered on her uniform that was lying carefully over the back of an armchair. She had spent the better part of the previous evening making sure that it was spotless for the coming match. She had buffed up the worn brown leather that protected her arms and shins as well as the long brown boots they all wore. She had then spent the better part of the evening lovingly repairing every rip and snag in the red fabric of her cloak. She had removed the painted on letters that spelled out the name 'K. POTTER' and replaced them with the same but sewn on in thick gold thread. In finer red thread she had sewn a roaring Gryffindor lion onto the breast of the cream robes beneath. She had added the same motif to the wrists of her gauntlets and the sides of the leather armour protecting her legs. She'd also added a thin border of gold to the collar just to continue the theme of red and gold.
She gave up on Harry, Ron and Ginny by the time it got to eight o'clock and they still had not surfaced. She walked past the Gryffindors now surfacing from their dormitories and back into her own to find Hermione the only one awake. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a rugby jersey. Opening her wardrobe, she took out her last piece of Quidditch armour, concealed in its box from Quality Quidditch Supplies, and held it under her arm as she retrieved her broom from her trunk.
"Tell the other's that I've gone for breakfast and then I'm off down to the pitch." She told Hermione, who nodded silently, before walking out the door. She walked with purpose, stopping only to pick up her uniform, and no one dared waylay her as she made her way towards the portrait hole. Her stomach, which seemed to have returned to normal, resumed its gymnastics as soon as she entered the Great Hall and she could only manage to wolf down a few pieces of toast and some bacon before she gave up and headed out to the pitch.
The sun was already out and it made the morning dew sparkle a she walked out across the lawns. As she walked, she pulled the small missive out of where she had stashed it in her back pocket. The card had arrived in a burst of flame in her dormitory the week before. It had only contained a few words.
Miss Potter.
Good luck with your forthcoming match, I trust that you have no problem with raising the stakes to 500.
It was short and to the point; he would no doubt be in attendance and she was slightly excited at the prospect of being five hundred Galleons better off by the time the match finished. That was, of course, if they didn't lose. She wondered what her friends would say if they knew how much gold she had riding on the outcome of this match. She destroyed the card as she climbed the stairs that led to the Gryffindor changing room and finished getting ready. She had modified her uniform slightly for the final match, apart from the repairs she had made, adding a stiff, upright collar instead of the previous loose neckline. She thought it gave the uniform a more professional look as she pinned her Captain's badge to it. It was at the end of the previous year that she had made the decision to change the Gryffindor Quidditch uniform slightly. Originally, they had worn cloaks like their school robes, with proper sleeves. She had found that the sleeves could sometimes restrict mobility of the arms whilst playing. She had changed the cloaks to be more like those worn by professional players, with no sleeves for increased mobility, and they looked very smart indeed.
She queued her hair back at the nape of her neck with a stout silver clip that was studded with small rubies, allowing the long black strands to flow down her back, but preventing them from flying into her face. Her final addition was her armour; stained deep red and with the matching Gryffindor lion pained onto the front in gold. It was a very formidable look, she thought to herself, as she looked her reflection up and down in the mirror and the sounds of the rest of the team drifted to her ears.
"It's about time," she said jokily as they wandered through the door, "I've been up since six."
"Well that's because you're paranoid." Harry said back, his arm draped around Ginny's shoulders. He caught the fiery look that came into her eyes and hastily added "Only joking."
"I should hope so. And I'm not paranoid, I just don't get cocky."
"But it's Slytherin." Ron complained. "It's not like we haven't beaten them before."
"That doesn't mean we can't lose." She was now addressing the entire team. "They'll be hoping that we are feeling cocky because we will be more likely to make mistakes that could turn the game to their advantage."
"Easy Kathryn, you're starting to sound like Wood." Harry laughed, being the only one here who had actually experienced the team under the captaincy of Oliver Wood. He had been prone to giving long lectures on tactics that usually left the team more confused and sleepy then they had been at the start of practice.
"It's our last match; we might as well go out with a bang." She shrugged. "And I want an unbeaten record against Malfoy." There was the sound of more voices outside the changing room and then a few sharp gasps as the tall, long haired form of Sirius Black strode through the door.
"Oh get over it, it's only Sirius." She snapped irritably at the two beaters who looked to be a mixture of stunned and scared.
"I just came to say good luck." Sirius told them, giving Kathryn a hug before clapping Harry on the back. "You shouldn't have a problem, the weather's perfect."
"Thanks Sirius, who else is here?"
"We're all here; Mad-Eye says good luck because he couldn't come up. Anyway, I'd best be off, they'll be calling you out soon I expect." He gave her a final hug before heading out of the door and back into the stands.
"OK." She took a deep breath and picked up her Firebolt. "Everyone got their brooms?" the six other team members nodded. "Wands up their sleeves just in case?" there were four more nods; the beaters did not carry their wands as she had decided that their clubs could turn out to be a better weapon. "Everybody ready to kick Slytherin's arse?" a cheer went up from the team and they walked through the tunnel to the pitch entrance.
They shot out of the entrance in the Hawkshead formation with Kathryn at the head; looping around the pitch a couple of times before breaking off and watching as Kathryn flew to the centre of the pitch. Once she was directly in line with the centre dot she yanked the handle of her Firebolt sharply upwards. She held her vertical course until she was high above the stands and within reaching distance of the low, wispy clouds. It was then that she, to the crowds below, appeared to do a backwards loop except that she did not fully loop around. Several people screamed as she plummeted headfirst towards the pitch; taking her hands of her broom handle and spreading them out wide. The feeling of free-falling through the air was amazing; she felt liberated as the air whistled past her ears. She could hear the cries of fright from students and teachers alike but she felt no fear, only an incredible wave of calm. It did not worry her that she could not see where she was going, her eyes being closed, or that she was going faster than she had ever done before.
She opened her eyes when the shouts from the crowd became louder and pulled the handle of her broom up before it was too late, floating gently down to where Madam Hooch was waiting with the Quaffle. Malfoy joined the pair of them seconds later and the two captains, two mortal enemies, faced each other down on the Quidditch pitch for the last time.
"Scared Potter?" he asked in a sneering tone.
"You wish. What about you? Going to go crying to Daddy when you lose?" she shot back as they gripped each others hands.
They both kicked off hard as Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air and the bludgers and Golden Snitch were released. Malfoy immediately darted upwards to look for the Snitch whilst Kathryn seized the Quaffle and shot for the Slytherin goal hoops. She dodged the opposing chases with ease and had got a goal past their keeper before he even saw her coming.
"And it's ten points to Gryffindor straight away!" Dean Thomas yelled out from the commentator's box. She caught sight of Sirius cheering loudly with the Weasleys, Lupin and Tonks as she sped after the Quaffle again. A few deft passes between she, Ginny and Emma had the score at twenty nil. The Slytherins had, however, seemed to recover from the initial shock and by the time they were half an hour into the match they were gaining fast on the Gryffindor lead. The Gryffindors spirits were not helped by the increasingly dirty tactics that were being employed against them. The final straw came for them when the bulking forms of Crabbe and Goyle collided into Kathryn's side in the one moment she had paused. She had been right in font of one of the tower boxes and, with her arms and legs wrapped protectively around her broom, she went crashing back first into the tiered wooden benches.
The entire stadium went silent as they heard the crunch of splintering wood and Madam Hooch blew her whistle sharply to suspend play. The wind knocked out of her, Kathryn opened her eyes to see where she was. That turned out to be buried beneath shattered wooden planks with her back against the tower wall. She felt a sting as she brushed her hand against her cheek and pulled her hand away to see blood on her fingertips. She felt a pair of hands grab at hers and pull her out of the large hole she had created. Her armour, however, seemed to have absorbed most of the force of the collision and she could feel no broken bones.
"My my, practically throwing yourself at me, and in public too." She heard the owner of the hands whisper. She looked up to see the smirking face of Lucius Malfoy. A biting remark was on the tip of her tongue but she held it back as several of the teachers who were also in that box swarmed around her. A few of them looked slightly ruffled; as if they had dived out of her way.
"I'm fine, I'm fine." She reassured them as she brushed herself off. "No harm done."
"You're bleeding." He said softly in her ear. "Hold still a minute." She obeyed his velvety tone without question and tilted her cheek towards him, allowing him to run his wand over the gash left by an errant nail. His fingers were soft on her skin as he inspected the wound. Her cheek went warm as he whispered the incantation to heal it but she wasn't too sure if she was actually blushing.
"Thank you." She said once he had finished, giving him a curt nod before heading to the edge of the box. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and realised that there was something missing.
"You left this." The smooth voice spoke again behind her. She turned around to see him picking her hair clip out of the splintered remnants of the seats.
"Oh, right," she turned around and walked back over to him, understanding that he wanted to say something more to her, "thanks." She reached out to take it from his left hand, conveniently the furthest away from her, meaning that she had to reach across him in the confined space of the front row to reach it. In the split second that their hands touched, he whispered in her ear.
"Double or nothing?" keeping her face impassive, she raised her eyebrows and gave him a look that clearly said 'if you really want to'.
"Thank you." She said quietly, fixing the clip into her hair and walking away, confident that he had got the message. Once again, she walked to the edge of the box and, without hesitation, climbed onto the edge as the crowd once again began to stir.
A triumphant cheer swept through the stadium as she mounted her broom once more, followed by a rising chant of 'GO, GO GRYFFINDOR'. Madam Hooch was busy screaming at Crabbe and Goyle and she flew quickly over to Harry who was waiting by the Gryffindor goal hoops.
"Are you alright?" he asked as soon as she pulled up.
"Fine." She said, gasping slightly as she was still a bit winded.
"Dirty cheating scum." Ginny muttered. "I bet you anything he told them to do that."
"Oh I don't doubt it."
"He's trying to impress his Dad." Ron spat. "You realise that they knocked you straight at him. Look Daddy, here's a present."
"Well, what do you say we pay the ferret back by humiliating him and his team?" she asked the team, earning strong mutters of agreement. "Lets go thrash them into next week then." They all nodded, each of them with a steely, determined glint in their eyes before flying swiftly back to their positions.
She took her penalty, sending the Quaffle shooting through the middle goal hoop with ease; the Slytherin Keeper not even seeing where it went it was moving so fast. The game resumed after that and the Slytherin fouls kept on coming. Although it wasn't technically a foul, Emma took a nasty blow to the leg from a Bludger aimed by Crabbe. Goyle was also pulled up for the double offence of Blurting and Cobbing at the same time. He had locked broom handles with Ginny and, as she tried to pull her away, elbowed her repeatedly in the ribs. The crowd was in uproar and she distinctly heard Mrs Weasley shouting exactly what she was going to do to Goyle if she ever got hold of him. Kathryn laughed as she watched Mr Weasley trying to pacify his wife as Ginny took another penalty.
By far the worst foul, however, apart from Crabbe and Goyle's deliberate attempt to put Kathryn out of the game, was what Malfoy did barely twenty minutes after the foul against Ginny. She didn't see what happened but definitely felt it. Whilst she was chasing after one of the Slytherins with the Quaffle, Malfoy had grabbed Crabbe's reinforced bat and had flown straight after her. The next thing she knew, Kathryn felt the metal plates that reinforced the bat come crashing into contact with her shoulders and back several times in rapid succession. Knocked off balance, she desperately hung onto her broom handle with one hand as she plummeted towards the ground. There were screams from the crowd as, her shoulder screaming in pain, she managed to swing herself back onto her broom and narrowly missed colliding with the walls of the stands. The crowd was in uproar as she skidded along the grass of the pitch on her already sore back, Madam Hooch blowing her whistle furiously. Kathryn signalled for a time out and the rest of her team flew to the ground to see her.
"That cheating scum." She said through gritted teeth as she felt the damage to her shoulder. Thankfully, it did not feel broken or dislocated. There were some boos from the Slytherin crowd as she got back into the air, but they were drowned out by the cheers from everyone else. Hooch shouted at Malfoy for a good five minutes, giving Kathryn's shoulders a chance to recover before she flew up to take the penalty. Taking a quick look into the stands, she could see Lucius looking at his son in disgust; apparently not agreeing with his tactics. Kathryn remembered the conversation she had over heard between Lucius and Narcissa at Fudge's reception. It appeared that his mother had been happier for him to use such tactics than his father was.
Those who were there would, in years to come, hail the final half an hour as some of the best Quidditch ever played at Hogwarts; rivalling the days of the great James Potter and Charlie Weasley. For every foul Malfoy and his cronies inflicted upon them they responded, not with violence, shouting or fouls of their own, but with goals. She flew viciously, not unlike the way she had seen the Australian chasers do, and did not give up possession of the Quaffle unless it was to pass to Ginny or Emma. She did not care how many of the Slytherin chasers crashed into the sides of the stadium or, in some cases, their own team members; just as long as she reached the goal hoops.
For Harry, streaking round the pitch in search of the Golden Snitch, he could see how observing the Australian players had helped her game. She seemed to have a sixth sense that told her what was going to happen a second before it did; giving her time to avoid it and continue her sprint for the goal hoops. He could also see the desperation in the Slytherins eyes as they struggled to hold onto the Quaffle for more than ten seconds. By the time Harry caught the Snitch, after a side by side chase with Malfoy in which he came off the winner and Malfoy lay sprawled on the pitch, the score was three hundred and twenty points to one hundred and twenty; and that was without the extra one hundred and fifty points he gained.
The stadium exploded as Dean called out the final score of four hundred and seventy to Gryffindor and one hundred and twenty to Slytherin. That gave them a margin of three hundred and fifty points. Hermione came rushing onto the pitch to congratulate the seven of them before grabbing Ron and kissing him. Harry followed her lead and grabbed Ginny. He didn't care about the hundreds of people watching them, or the numerous giggles and wolf whistles that went through the crowd of cheering Gryffindors. Kathryn laughed as she watched them, although secretly disappointed. She wanted to be part of this little spectacle; kissing the person she loved in celebration. She thought this extremely imprudent, however, as the identity of the person she wanted to kiss would no doubt cause outrage amongst all surrounding them.
She spotted him in the stands as she lifted the shining Quidditch cup above her head in triumph. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod of congratulation, a more dignified acceptance of her win than that of his son who was standing at the edge of the pitch screaming at his team. She also caught his eyes and saw clearly the message he had written in them. I'll see you later too, she thought to herself as she was carried off the pitch on the shoulders of the rest of the Gryffindors.
She had been right in her predictions as to those people who would be staying in the castle for the party that night. Mr and Mrs Weasley were the first to head off after lunch; Mr Weasley having to return to work. Tonks followed next, also having to return to work. Lupin, Fred, George and Sirius were the only ones staying behind for the party that evening. True, the party had been going on all day since that match finished, but the night was when the fireworks came.
Fred and George had really excelled themselves this time. Catherine wheels whizzed around the grounds whilst lions ran through the night sky, actually roaring and having the words 'EAT DUNG SLYTHEIRN' coming out of their mouths. They stood outside and watched them for a long time before heading back inside to the seven crates of butterbeer that they had still to open. Sirius was telling them all about his glory days on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and how their dad had been the best Seeker he had ever seen. People listened in awe to his tales of previous matches and close finishes. A lot of people were quite awed by the fact that they had Sirius Black sitting in their common room, bearing in mind that the last time he had been here he had broken in and had tried to kill Scabbers whilst they slept. Of course everyone thought that he was trying to kill Harry and the pair of them were; after their explanation of his innocence, forced to explain all about Peter Pettigrew even though it had already been explained in the Prophet some years ago.
The party began to wind down at one; Professor McGonagall sternly telling them that they had to go to bed. In the crush to get to the dormitories she pulled out her bag from where she had stashed it beneath a sofa and whipped on the invisibility cloak behind a pillar in the corner.
"I'm going for a shower." She whispered to Hermione before walking off behind Professor McGonagall and slipping through the portrait hole after her.
The corridors were silent apart from the occasional bang issuing from Fred and George's fireworks and the sound of the suits of armour creaking. She did not even meet Mrs Norris on the way up to the seventh floor, an achievement in itself, and the corridor was also blissfully empty as she walked hurriedly along and pushed open the door that she was sure only she could see.
Inside, to her surprise, she found him already asleep; sprawled on top of the covers still wearing his shirt and trousers. Removing her cloak she slipped off her jeans and tunic style top to reveal the day's choice of skimpy underwear in, appropriately, the Gryffindor colours of reds with a smattering of gold.
"Well, we shall have to remedy this." She murmured to herself as she climbed up onto the bed next to him. Sitting astride him, but not putting her weight on him, she bent over him; her hair brushing against his face as she kissed him gently.
Her attention did not go unnoticed for long and soon he was up with her sat in his lap, her legs wrapped about his waist.
"Isn't your Godfather still here?" he asked her as he pulled off his shirt.
"Yes, but he's lying crashed out on a sofa in the common room and it's not like anyone else can get in here." She replied, sliding off his lap and moving teasingly away to the top of the bed where she slipped herself between the covers. As she had anticipated, he soon joined her; his eager hands tugging the scraps of lace that passed for underwear off her lithe, slightly bruised body. He was very attentive; obviously deciding that she deserved to be spoiled after winning her match. Carefully, he massaged her sides where she had hit the stands, his lips following his hands before he gently rolled her over onto her front. She heard the slight gasp as he caught sight of the five or six long, bat shaped bruises that were smattered across her right shoulder. They were light purple around the edges and a deep, bluish purple down the middle where her shoulder had taken the full force of the bat. He could even see some small marks from the bolts that held the reinforcing plates onto the wood.
She could see him smile as he sent her deeper and deeper into the throes of passion; the feeling of euphoria that coursed through her body surpassing even those that she had felt when they had finally won the match that afternoon.
Once their energy was spent and he rolled off her, she snuggled in close to his warm body and rested her head on his shoulder.
"I should go into professional Quidditch if that's what I'd get every time I win." She murmured sleepily.
"I trust you feel well and truly indulged. I would be most disappointed if my efforts were in vain."
"Oh you have spoiled me." She agreed, placing a light kiss on his shoulder. "I'm not sure if I will be able to make it back to Gryffindor tower." Glancing at the clock she saw that it was nearly three in the morning. "But I suppose I'll have to." She reached for her wand and, with a few lazy flicks; she had summoned her clothes to her and was pulling them on.
"Don't." He said simply, pulling her back down as she dressed and promptly removed her clothes again. "Stay with me a while."
"They'll miss me." She protested as his arms wrapped themselves around her.
"They're all asleep; you can stay another couple of hours."
"I've been gone since one," she reminded him, "they might miss me when there are more people to notice me gone."
"There is only your Godfather and he sounds like he isn't going to be getting up any time soon. Plus," he finished with a cheeky smile, "with such temptation I cannot understand how you even entertain the thought of leaving."
"Well," she shot back dryly, "I don't want to be caught for one thing."
"Who in Gryffindor tower is going to be awake at the time that you get in?"
"I can't be caught wandering the corridors!" she argued, pulling herself up again.
"You're the Head Girl," he reminded her, "I'm sure any teacher would turn a blind eye if they found their Head Girl out of bed early, especially seeing as she had won the Quidditch Cup the day before."
"Fine," she said in a defeated tone, flopping back down onto the bed, "you win." She turned over and snuggled into the covers. "Night."
"I wasn't planning on sleeping." He said in surprise.
"Well, I was." She replied shortly, getting her head comfortable on the pillows. "I have been awake since six this morning and am well past my tiredness threshold." She sighed. "I am grateful for your attention but the best thing you could do right now would be just to lie here with me and sleep." Silently, he sidled up behind her and pulled her round so that her head was resting against his shoulder, like it had done so many times before. They fell asleep like that, barely moving an inch until she bolted awake at half past five.
Checking the time on the clock, she pulled herself out of his grasp and haphazardly pulled on her clothes.
"Your winnings are on the table by the way." He motioned to a table against the wall where a large sack of galleons sat.
"Thanks, although I'd have thought you'd have learned that betting on the outcome with me is useless." She hefted the weighty sack into her bag and then muttered the charm to make the bag feather-light.
She gave him a long, lingering kiss goodbye before pulling on her invisibility cloak and checking her copy of the Marauder's Map to see if anyone was coming along the corridors. She had not yet used the map in front of him; deciding that it would not be good if he knew that such a tool existed. The corridor was empty so she slipped silently out and walked as quickly as she could back to Gryffindor tower. Flashes of light from the fireworks that still roamed the grounds lit her way as she walked; carefully avoiding Peeves who was loosening a candelabrum on the sixth floor.
Sirius was lying asleep on the sofa as she slipped through the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's protestations at being woken up and then her scolding for being out of bed so late, or rather, early. Predictably, Sirius jolted awake as she walked over to the stairs that led to her dormitory.
"Where've you been?" he said in a sleepy voice; fixing her with a probing stare. She carefully closed her mind to him before replying.
"For a shower." Sirius half smiled at her in his drowsy state. "And I wanted some time to myself."
"Ok, night." He murmured before replacing his head on his pillow and falling straight back to sleep. Kathryn was thankful that he thought it still night time, as opposed to early morning.
"Night." She whispered before climbing the stairs and sneaking through the dormitory door as quietly as possible. She, thankfully, did not wake Hermione and avoided having to explain why she had been gone so long. She crawled beneath the covers once she had pulled on his large white shirt and fell easily into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The rest of her sleep might have been dreamless but she woke up at around midday in excruciating pain. Lying on her front, she didn't dare move as every slight change in her position resulted in shooting pains up and down her back. Hermione was on top form and had Professors' McGonagall and Snape there in a trice along with Madam Pomfrey. Although it was agonising to move even a few inches she flatly refused to let them cut the shirt off and, slowly, with Hermione's help, she managed to prise the shirt off. Flushing brightly, as she was lying prone and naked in front of her best friend and teachers, she hoped that there was no visible sign of the previous night's escapades.
She remained still as a statue as Madam Pomfrey examined her back; the bruises that had been there the previous evening having gotten even worse and her back now an ugly purple mess. If she spotted the small bruising at the side of her neck when she lifted her hair out of the way, she said nothing.
"You should have come straight to me." She chided, spreading copious amounts of a thick pink salve on her back. "Now, I'm afraid you're going to have to lie there for quite a while. I can't have you moving and doing more damage.
Kathryn lay there for two whole hours until Madam Pomfrey returned and wrapped her in a cooling bandage from armpit to waist. This was followed by a diluted measure of Skele-Gro to repair the minor damage the bat had done to her spine. Whilst the pain relief was welcome, it was annoying not being able to move and have to talk to anyone that came up to see her. She was beginning to grow tired of explaining the match over and over again. Thankfully, the pain subsided after another night's rest and she was able to leave her bed. Being summer, the weather was glorious, and so necessitated the appropriate clothing. Consequently, the whole school got a nice look at the bruising on her back that peeked from beneath her summer vest tops.