Chapter 787: Making Arrangements
Chapter 787: Making Arrangements
After the Easter holidays, a dull atmosphere quietly enveloped the castle. Most students had spent the break frantically catching up on assignments, leaving them with little time to review for the upcoming end-of-term exams. Now, with the holidays over, they realized with a jolt that the exams were just a month away, adding to their gloom.
It wasn't just the exams that loomed; the Quidditch final between Gryffindor and Slytherin was also fast approaching. This deciding match, which would determine the Quidditch Cup champion, was to be held the first weekend after the holidays.
On the eve of the game, the atmosphere in the Gryffindor common room was tense. Amidst the din, an undercurrent of restlessness and anxiety could be felt.
The players were huddled in the corner armchairs, sipping butterbeer and nibbling on sweets as they discussed potential tactics for the next day and how to exploit Slytherin's weaknesses.
Simply defeating Slytherin wasn't enough; they had to gain a lead of fifty points or more before catching the Golden Snitch to clinch the Quidditch Cup. Thus, the three Seekers, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, were the focus of the discussion.
Fred and George, however, felt that Wood was overlooking something crucial. They believed that Slytherin would resort to underhanded tactics, and so they should respond forcefully with a Transylvanian Fake and not hold back. There was no need to be polite to their opponents.
As Albert took Tom downstairs for some air, he couldn't help but sense the tension in the room. Some things were difficult to explain, but he attributed it to the overall atmosphere. Even Hermione was affected, having set aside her book.
"I can't seem to concentrate on reading," Hermione said, closing her book and turning to Albert, who was playing with Tom.
"It's too noisy here. If you want to study, you should go back to the dormitory," Albert said, gently stroking Tom's head.
"No, it's not that," Hermione shook her head. "I feel restless and a bit nervous."
"But you're not the one playing in the match. Why are you nervous?"
"I want Harry to beat Malfoy and win the championship for Gryffindor," Hermione said, wishing Crookshanks were with her. She reached out to scratch Tom's ear and continued, "If we lose to Slytherin, to someone like Malfoy, I don't think I can take it."
"You should have faith in Harry and the team. They've been training hard and are determined to win," Albert said softly, offering comfort. "Besides, Harry has the Firebolt. He's far superior to Malfoy on the broom."
"You seem pretty calm about the whole thing," Hermione remarked, sensing that Albert wasn't too concerned about the outcome of the Quidditch match.
"Because I believe Harry will bring victory to Gryffindor," Albert said with a serene smile.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot about your ability to predict the outcome," Hermione muttered, her voice trailing off. "Looks like Gryffindor will win in the end."
For some reason, Hermione felt her mood lift at Albert's prediction.
Changing the subject, Albert asked, "By the way, can your Crookshanks catch mice?" He felt that Hermione might have been imagining things, and he wanted to divert her attention.
Hermione looked at him quizzically, unsure why he brought this up, but she waited for him to continue.
"Hagrid's hut seems to have a lot of mice. He asked to borrow Tom the other day, saying he needed help catching them," Albert explained. "But my Tom doesn't know how to catch mice."
"Your Tom can't catch mice?" Hermione found it hard to imagine a cat that didn't know how to chase mice.
"Tom just loves to cuddle and act cute all day," Albert said, gently tapping Tom's head and ignoring the cat's protests. He then reached for Tom's chubby belly and added, "But that's enough for me. I don't need him to catch mice. The point of having a pet is the companionship it offers."
Hermione thought that Albert had spoiled Tom, but she had to admit that Tom was cuter and better at acting adorable than her Crookshanks. This was a big draw for girls, and she agreed with Albert's sentiment about the true purpose of having a pet.
"When does Hagrid need a mouse-catching cat?" Hermione asked. "I can take Crookshanks over to help out sometime."
"I'll ask Hagrid about it next time I see him. After all, when a cat goes after mice, it might create quite a mess in his hut," Albert said.
"Don't worry, Crookshanks is smart," Hermione said, stroking Crookshanks' fur. "I'll send him to Hagrid's in a few days. He'll take care of the mouse problem."
"I'm sure Hagrid will be delighted," Albert said, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He was planning to put Scabbers to work.
Ever since Albert had derailed the Buckbeak plotline, he had been making arrangements to ensure that the remaining events unfolded as they should. He couldn't afford to let things spiral out of control, especially since his task reward, a substantial sum of Galleons, and Black's innocence were at stake. He would not allow the situation to slip from his grasp.
"Finally, it's over. I don't understand why Wood had to give that talk before the match," Fred grumbled, taking a small sip of butterbeer.
Wood was just adding unnecessary pressure on them.
"Where did you get the butterbeer?" Ron blurted out, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.
"We bought it during the last Wizarding game. There's one barrel left, which we originally planned to save for a celebration after the exams," George explained.
The method Albert suggested was quite effective. With a little butterbeer and some snacks, along with light and pleasant conversation, everyone felt much more relaxed and less burdened by the impending match.
As for the game itself, the twins didn't entirely agree with the tactics Wood had outlined. In their opinion, the Transylvanian Fake was undoubtedly the best approach, and even Albert concurred. They believed that Slytherin would stoop to any level, and they didn't need to worry about being penalized for using the Transylvanian Fake, as their opponents might pull off even dirtier tricks.
"By the way, have you placed your bets yet?" Fred suddenly asked. "We're betting on Gryffindor to win."
"Aren't you worried that you won't get your money if you win?" Albert shrugged. "Slytherin isn't known for their integrity. Who knows if they'll pay up if they lose?"
"That bastard Kenneth has been using your name to bluff people," George said, narrowing his eyes as he realized they had been played.
"That guy has been flaunting your name, luckily we only bet a few Sickles, so it's not a big loss if we don't get them back," Fred and George looked displeased as they realized they had been tricked by that rascal.
"What if we don't get our money back?" Ron's face turned even paler than usual. He had also placed a bet, putting all his Sickles on the line.
(End of Chapter)
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