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If Quinn didn’t go deaf by the end of the night, it’d be a miracle. The Gryffindor common room was a riot of celebration, following their hard-won victory against Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup, which was displayed with pride on a table in the center of the room. Everyone, particularly the upper years and those on the Quidditch team, was partying, and partying hard.
“LET’S GIVE A HAND TO OUR UNBEATABLE TEAM!” bellowed her sister Bridget, who had climbed on top of a chair. She wore a scarlet Gryffindor banner like a cloak, and for once, she was the tallest in the room. “The Chasers: the fearless Captain Kenneth! Leigh, faster than a whizzing bullet! Moira, the rookie of the year!
A roaring cheer from the throng of Gryffindors greeted each name. Unflappable Kenneth reddened with embarrassment while Leigh and Ariane hugged a blushing Moira.
“Ariane and Guy, our dynamic duo of fearsome Beaters! Our unnamed Keeper, who somehow managed to do a half-decent job of blocking!”
The two Beaters triumphantly raised their bats, prompting an even greater cheer that became mixed with laughter as Roy, the aforementioned Keeper, indignantly howled, “Have you still not forgiven me for calling you short?!”
“And of course,” Bridget paused dramatically. “Catching the Snitch with a score of 710 to 650, the best Seeker in Hogwarts …my big sister, Quinn! ”
Anyone outside would have thought an explosion had taken place in the common room, the cheering was that thunderous. The world spun in a dizzyingly whirl of scarlet and gold as Quinn was pulled into a back-breaking hug by the rest of her teammates.
This, Quinn thought giddily, her heart filled with unexpected warmth, is something I’m going to dearly miss.
By the time they all broke apart, discreetly wiping their eyes, Bridget had disappeared again and the Arcainian twins were conjuring treat after treat, to the delight of the roaring crowd. The party was under full-swing, it seemed.
“Where are you getting these?” Rune and some other third and fourth year students demanded in bewildered amazement as boxes of pastries, Honeydukes chocolate, Fizzing Whizzees, Zonko’s fireworks, and even packs of butterbeer and firewhiskey materialized seemingly out of nowhere.
“Trade secret, little brother,” said one of the twins with a wink. “Call it a magic trick.”
“Is that what we’re calling Black Swan now?” muttered Leigh. She shooed some second years away to flop down on one of the couches while Kenneth lazily Summoned a few bottles of butterbeer and sat beside her, smirking at something. Quinn followed his gaze to see Nadia, Ariane’s friend, slipping some Galleons into a moleskin pouch and subtly melting away into the mob.
“Let them figure it out,” said Quinn with a smile as she gratefully sank into a nearby armchair, “it’s a classic Hogwarts secret, after all.”
“It’s the endddddd of the Gallantttttt Banddddd!” Somehow, Guy had ended up on top of a table, where he sang rather enthusiastically off-key while holding an unopened bottle like a Muggle microphone. Quinn watched with amusement as he hopped off and grabbed a nearby Roy, looping an arm around his long-suffering teammate’s neck. “Come on, buddy! Sing it with me!”
“You’re the only one who calls us that!” Roy groaned as he was dragged off.
I’ll talk with him later, Quinn decided. Let’s not spoil the mood tonight.
“It really is the end of an era,” Ariane said a tad wistfully as she wandered over to perch on the arm of Leigh and Kenneth’s couch. “You’re all graduating. What are Moira and I going to do next year when the five of you are gone? I feel like I’m losing a limb.”
Leigh reached up to ruffle the younger girl’s hair. “Oh, don’t worry. I think you'll be too busy being Captain to miss us too much. Try not to be a total mama bear like Ken, by the way.” She poked him in the ribs, nearly making him slosh his drink.
“And here I thought I was the one who decided Captainship,” Kenneth said dryly, tactfully ignoring how Ariane’s eyes had widened to the size of Sickle coins. “But yes, congratulations. Have fun whipping a new bunch of hooligans into shape.”
Quinn folded her hands behind her head, smiling. “Come on, Captain. Surely we weren’t that bad?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You were your own kind of trouble, Lake. Not to mention your thing for Roy-“
A cry of alarm split the air.
“Bollocks, it’s the Head Girl!”
A collective hush fell over the room as the portrait of the Fat Lady slowly swung open. Her wand raised, Gabrielle Marquise’s eyebrows arched disapprovingly as panicked students immediately tried to Vanish the many bits of rather incriminating evidence. Most entertaining was Gerhart, a first-year, cramming an entire pastry into his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk.
“Let me make three things clear,” said the Head Girl in an stern sort of way, looking around at the room of sheepish older students and petrified first and second years. “One: by tomorrow morning, I expect to find the common room spotless and exactly the way it was this morning. If I see so much as a torn cushion, I will make it my personal mission to ban all future Gryffindor gatherings for the rest of term. Two: anyone whom I catch slipping drinks to an underage student”—here she paused to stare pointedly at the Arcainian twins, who shifted uncomfortably —”will be serving detention with Professor Angelique for the rest of term.”
“Whatever’s left of it, anyway,” muttered Guy before Roy elbowed him in the gut.
“And three,” Gabrielle continued threateningly, amber eyes gleaming while the crowd held its breath, “…if someone doesn’t hand me a bottle of butterbeer within the next ten seconds, I’m deducting 100 points from Gryffindor.”
A cheer went up among the upper years as Gabi cracked a smile at last, while the younger Gryffindors bore an amusing mix of expressions ranging anywhere from dumbfounded to utterly petrified. Quinn waved as Gabi ambled her way over to their little corner, plopping down on the floor to lean against Quinn’s armchair.
“Congratulations on a spectacular match,” Gabi said, catching the bottle that a smirking Kennedy tossed to her. “Oh, sod off. The lot of you don’t need to look so smug. I’d be a hypocrite if I started banning people from having a bit of fun.”
“You certainly had a little too much fun with that speech, didn’t you?” said Leigh, grinning wildly. “Some of the younger ones looked ready to piss themselves.”
Gabi snorted, cracking open the bottle with practiced ease. “Please. Like a little fear could stop a Gryffindor.”
“Not all of us can take on a mountain troll at the tender age of twelve, Marquise!” shouted Elle, saluting them from a nearby circle of third-years doing what looked like a war dance around the Quidditch Cup.
“For the last time, Ranger, it was an ogre, and I was fourteen!” Gabi bellowed back over a fresh round of laughter from the room. She shook her head, eyes dancing with mirth. “Honestly, why do I bother.”
“To be fair, I think you still scare the pants off the rest of them,” Quinn supplied helpfully, twisting open her own bottle. The cool, frothy drink was a welcome balm in the hot, stuffy atmosphere of the party. “Thank you for casting an extra Muffliato, by the way. Were we really that loud?”
“I’m fairly sure they could hear you all the way down in the Slytherin dungeons.” Gabi said wryly, then smirked. “Unless that was the point? Steffen will be thrilled, by the way; he always knew you’d win the Cup one year.”
“He was a phenomenal Chaser,” agreed Kenneth. “Moira confessed that she felt quite intimidated following in his footsteps.”
Leigh chortled. “And then the sweet girl proceeded to score a perfect ten out of ten goals during her tryouts. As a sodding second-year. Ah, to be young and full of energy.”
Ariane heaved a deep sigh, making Quinn giggle. “Merlin’s pants, Leigh, you make me feel old. Stop it now.”
“You are old, Ari,” Bridget tromped by, swinging an arm around Ariane’s shoulders and nicking Quinn’s bottle for a quick swig. “Soon you’ll be doddering about, shaking your Beater-cane at hapless toads like Lucien Loire.”
Ariane’s hazel eyes flashed with genuine anger. “Can we not mention that arrogant toerag tonight?”
“Ooooooh.” Guy said mockingly, wandering over to their little gathering, having lost both Roy and his bottle-mike. “Are you trying to make my Beater partner mad, Short Stuff?”
“ExCUSE me?!” screeched Bridget, while Quinn sighed in exasperation.
“How much have you had to drink, Guy?” she asked conversationally while her sister launched herself at him with all the fury of an enraged Kneazle-kitten. “You normally have a wee bit more tact.”
“Gerroff-me!” was all she could make out from the tangle of limbs. They collided with one of the tapestries, which collapsed over them, eliciting whoops of shock and giggles from those around them.
“Exactly the way it was, right?” Quinn said cheekily to Gabi, who just sighed and took a long swig from her bottle in a very “not my problem now” manner.
“Ariane!” Marcelle, one of the other fifth-year girls, ran over excitedly. “There you are! Come on, Marc’s finally showing off his singing rose to Emele!”
“His what?” Ariane asked in disbelief, allowing herself to be tugged away with an apologetic look at the rest of them.
“And then there were four.” Kenneth raised his empty bottle in a mocking toast. “The young ’uns have a point, though. Remember when we used to get up to all sorts of mischief?”
As if on cue, there’s a loud bang and a flash of color. Someone had let off one of Zonko’s fireworks, judging by the yells of delight.
“OI! OUTSIDE!” Gabi roared in unison with one of the sixth-year prefects, Vitore.
“I feel a mite bad for those who are trying to study,” Quinn said thoughtfully. She seen Brittany creeping upstairs near the start of the celebration. The younger girl always got a bit touchy around exam season. “With Quidditch season over, it’s nearly time for final exams.”
“Blimey, we still have our N.E.W.T.S coming up!” Gabi groaned. “I’d plain near forgotten them. Quinn, could you be a dear and help me with Potions? You were always a dab hand at that.”
“Only if you help me with Transfiguration.” Quinn winced at her least-favorite N.E.W.T. class. “I still haven’t gotten the hang of human-mammal spells.”
Leigh guffawed. “Like when you turned Themerysaldi from Slytherin into a mouse instead of a crow last week? Oh, that was priceless!”
“Especially when Puss couldn’t resist shifting into a cat and chasing him around.” Gabi added with a snicker. “Highlight of my week, Quinn.”
“Cheers.” Quinn said dryly as Leigh and Kenneth roared with appreciative laughter. “Glad my pain amuses some people.”
“Oh, I’m sure Emerys bears no hard feelings towards you.” Leigh interjected slyly. “You’re still visiting his home this summer, aren’t you?”
“It’s for a job.“ Quinn said sharply, purposely not making eye-contact with Gabi. Rakel had been clear that the Order had to be kept a secret, even from her teammates.
“What, you think the rest of us would ever get an invitation to Alabaster Manor, home to the most Noble and Ancient House of Sideralis?”
“You make him sound like such a nob.”
“He is a nob, mate. There’s a reason the House of Sideralis is one of the richest Pureblood families alive. I hear they even have an army of house elves living there.”
“Rubbish,” said Quinn briskly. “Next, you’ll be saying Emerys himself is some sort of elf.”