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"What do you mean?" Yep, Hermione was a very curious person. Who would have thought?
"There's a Quidditch match tomorrow, remember? If the person guilty of the attack wants to try again, he will put his plan in action then. All the Professors are assisting to the match, so the way is free at Hogwarts to prepare an evil plan or two."
"Then we have just to search the school during the match and arrest him in the act!"
"Absolutely not." Said Alexandra in a cold voice. "We have no information how Filch was turned into stone. We don't know how to counter it. If we try to apprehend the culprit, we could very well all die." Fighting a gigantic salamander of fire and darkness and escaping by pure dumb luck had been quite enough for the ongoing year, thank you very much. The Morrigan may have decreed Alexandra was to participate in a final battle, but the raven-haired witch doubted a prank reeking Dark Magic was it.
"But..."
"Let the Professors their chance to stop the Heir or whoever did the attack, Hermione." Said Morag. "We are students. The safety of Hogwarts is not in our domain of competences."
"Okay. And if they are more attacks? If the Professors fail to find the attacker?"
"Warn the Aurors and the Ministry." Answered Nigel.
"You aren't curious what happened on Halloween?"
"Of course we are curious, Hermione. It's just that we are Ravenclaws." Laughed Morag.
"Which means unlike the Gryffindors, we take the time to think, oh...thirty seconds before jumping into the action." Finished Alexandra. Before adding when Morag gave her an incredulous stare. "Some of us have more Gryffindor in us than we care to admit. Fine, trouble tends to find me wherever I go." The twelve-year old added, taking a sheepish expression.
"That I can very well believe." Grumbled Morag. Alexandra sent her a reproachful look. It was not her fault that a goddess had decided to invite herself to a Samhain ritual! She had not sent an invitation ticket for the Morrigan to appear! Twenty-four hours before Halloween-Samhain, Alexandra had no idea herself she was going to participate.
"So what do we do now?"
"Me, I'm going to finish this Astronomy chart of Saturn." Affirmed Alexandra. "After that, I have an appointment with Flitwick. I want to know if he can teach me swordsmanship."
Their Head of House had been forced to abandon their Duelling lessons under the fallacious pretext it would be too unfair for the other second-years of Hogwarts. But handling blades and other steel weapons had not been in the program for the last five decades. Of course Dumbledore would probably find another pretext in time. But the Headmaster was rarely present at the Head Table, and practically never seen in the corridors. It would take time for him to formulate an answer.
"That is going to fill your schedule." Warned with good humour Nigel.
"I will survive." Sighed Alexandra in a theatrical manner. "And if I have any time left, I will spend a moment praying that Longbottom and Malfoy kill themselves each other on the Pitch tomorrow, sending the Heir of Slytherin in the afterlife with them."
"Not going to happen. We need a Gryffindor to save the day at the end, remember?"
7 November 1992, Hogwarts, Scotland
The weather could be described as rainy when the two Quidditch teams entered the Pitch on Saturday morning. A less charitable observer could even have described the rains falling over the isolated Scottish land where Hogwarts stood as a true deluge. The spectators, students and teachers, were protected from the fury of the elements by the charmed stands which repelled the water. The players had not this chance. Progressing in the puddle of mud the stadium had become after the torrential rains of late October, the fourteen players and Professor Hooch were already drenched, and the match hadn't yet started. For the hundredth time, Alexandra wished the first matches of Quidditch were programmed in early October or in late November when snow replaced the heavy rains. Despite the many Warming and Impervious Charms casted, their place in the stands was not a pleasant place to be. Of course the Quidditch players were facing worse conditions, entering the stadium as the elements redoubled in intensity.
"Here comes the team of Gryffindor!" Shouted Lee Jordan who as usual commented the match, with Professor McGonagall keeping an eye on him. "Wood, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley and Longbottom! A very good team, who unlike some I could tell, doesn't choose his players by the size of their father's fortune..."
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor." The commentator's tone was showing no sign of worry or excuse. Which was fair, because as every student in Hogwarts knew, that was exactly how a blonde imbecile had won his place in the team. "Now here comes the team of Slytherin, led by Captain Marcus Flint. Montague and Pucey as Chasers, Bletchley as Keeper, Bole and Derrick as Beaters. Only change's from last year, Draco Malfoy has replaced Higgs. Sorry Terence. You deserved better than this slimy blonde to steal your place..."
"JORDAN!"
Finally, the teams of Gryffindor and Slytherin faced off each other in the middle of the terrain. It was all a symbol. The Slytherins, all massive and bulky with the exception of their Seeker Draco Malfoy. Each of the players under Marcus Flint had a flashing Nimbus 2001 in their hands. All were wearing the green and silver of their House. Like last year, there was no girl among the Slytherin players.
By contrast, the Gryffindors had three girls, who despite not being thin and small were quite making this very impression against the troll-featured Snakes. The Lion Captain, Oliver Wood, was not a monster of musculature either. As for the Weasley Twins, they were quite elongated compared to the green gorillas playing Beaters.