It seemed everyone had forgotten about Black. Only now and then did Richie notice Harry frowning to himself. Still, Richard trusted Potter to exercise some common sense, so he kept his lectures to himself.
Just to be safe, Grosvenor informed Scott Potter, Millicent Bagnold, and his father about Black's Halloween break-in at the castle.
At the beginning of November, the entire Hogwarts student body was buzzing with excitement. Everyone was eagerly awaiting the start of the Quidditch championship.
The weather on the first weekend of November was exceptionally foul. Heavy leaden clouds smothered the sun, and rain poured down in relentless sheets. Richie would gladly have remained in the warm comfort of his dormitory, but maintaining his image required him to make an appearance at the stadium.
Water-Repelling Charms worked perfectly alongside the comfort provided by his enchanted clothing, so neither the wind nor the downpour posed any real threat to Richard. Even so, there was little pleasant about streams of water running over his face and robes. It was maddeningly irritating, and Grosvenor had to make a considerable effort to keep his expression perfectly composed.
Despite the miserable weather, nearly every student and professor had gathered at the stadium. Hermione sat down beside Richard without the slightest concern that she was surrounded by Hufflepuffs. The Gryffindors did not care either, nor did the Badgers, for whom friendship always came first.
At most sporting events, the front rows are considered the most prestigious. At the opera, it's the ninth and tenth rows, along with the VIP boxes, where the acoustics are best. Quidditch was different: spectators preferred the highest seats, since the match took place in the sky.
As neither Richard nor Hermione were Quidditch enthusiasts, they settled comfortably into the second row. They could have taken the first, but it was full of puddles and mud. In fact, the entire front row was deserted.
The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams stepped onto the pitch. Three members of the Gryffindor side belonged to the Weasley family: Ron played Seeker, while Fred and George served as Beaters.
"Draco Malfoy?!" Richard exclaimed in surprise when he spotted the familiar blond Slytherin on the field.
"Yeah, he's on the Quidditch team now," Granger replied.
"Hermione, is it just me, or do all the Slytherins have brooms like Ron's?"
"It's not just you." Hermione pursed her lips irritably as she looked toward the pitch. "I heard Malfoy bought his way onto the team. His father bought the Slytherin team some of the very best brooms available."
At Madam Hooch's whistle, the balls burst from their crate: the tiny winged Golden Snitch, two heavy iron Bludgers, and the Quaffle. The players mounted their brooms and shot into the sky after them.
Hermione jabbed Richard in the side with her elbow.
"Richie, look!"
Grosvenor glanced beneath the stands, where Granger's gaze was fixed. At first he could make out nothing through the curtain of pounding rain, but then a brilliant flash of lightning ripped across the clouds, illuminating everything for a fleeting instant. A deafening peal of thunder followed. In that brief moment of light, Richie caught sight of a large, gaunt black dog beneath the stands, its shaggy coat soaked through.
Hermione's eyes lit up with excitement. Rising slightly from her seat, she asked,
"Could that be Black?"
"It matches the description."
Richard tugged gently at Hermione's robes, making her sit back down. Reluctantly, she settled herself onto the wooden bench again, her eyes darting restlessly as she tried to spot the dog once more.
"Richie, aren't we going to do anything?"
"No."
"Why not?" Hermione asked in frustration.
"Because it's none of our business, Hermione."
"I thought Black was keeping an eye on Harry." Hermione found Potter among the spectators on the upper stands, a little way to the right.
"Harry is the son of Black's late friend," Richard said with a shrug. "There's nothing particularly surprising about that."
Hermione impatiently waited for the next flash of lightning. She had completely forgotten about the match; all her attention was fixed on the space beneath the stands. At last it came. The lightning seemed twice as thick and twice as long as before. The thunder that followed was far louder, so powerful it seemed to make the very ground tremble.
During the brief flash, Hermione eagerly searched beneath the stands.
"Damn it!" she cried in disappointment. "He's gone..."
"Good riddance," Richard said with studied indifference. "Hermione, forget about Black. Do you really want trouble?"
"No," the girl replied, tossing her thick mane of chestnut hair, "but... don't you want to help Harry? He's your friend."
"He is," Grosvenor agreed. "Which is exactly why I do help him. I pay him a monthly allowance as an orphan. I provide his guardian uncle with a well-paid job. I talk him out of reckless adventures. I give him the latest magical inventions so he'll have a better chance of surviving when things go wrong. But I have no intention of indulging a teenager's irrational desire to seek out a deranged Animagus who's spent the last twelve years in prison. And I wouldn't advise you to do it either."
"All right," Hermione agreed with obvious reluctance. "I won't tell Harry about Black."
Suddenly, from the upper right section of the stands where the Gryffindors were sitting, came a sharp crack followed by a loud cry of pain. A split second earlier, Richard had caught something streaking through the air out of the corner of his eye.
Richie and Hermione immediately sprang to their feet and looked toward the upper stands.
"Harry!" Hermione cried in horror. "He's lying in such an unnatural position... Oh my goodness!" She clapped both hands over her half-open mouth. "How awful! His legs are twisted... they're broken! What happened?"
Hermione made to dash up the stands, but Richard caught her gently by the elbow.
"Hermione, there are already plenty of people there. Besides, Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Madam Pomfrey are already on their way. We'd only be in the way."
"You're right," Hermione admitted with frustration. "I just don't understand what could have happened."
(End of Chapter)
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