Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - J. K. Rowling [172]
“Banned,” said Angelina in a hollow voice, late that evening in the common room. “Banned. No Seeker and no Beaters … What on earth are we going to do?”
It did not feel as though they had won the match at all. Everywhere Harry looked there were disconsolate and angry faces; the team themselves were slumped around the fire, all apart from Ron, who had not been seen since the end of the match.
“It’s just so unfair,” said Alicia numbly. “I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?”
“No,” said Ginny miserably; she and Hermione were sitting on either side of Harry. “He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner.”
“And banning Fred when he didn’t even do anything!” said Alicia furiously, pummeling her knee with her fist.
“It’s not my fault I didn’t,” said Fred, with a very ugly look on his face. “I would’ve pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn’t been holding me back.”
Harry stared miserably at the dark window. Snow was falling. The Snitch he had caught earlier was now zooming around and around the common room; people were watching its progress as though hypnotized and Crookshanks was leaping from chair to chair, trying to catch it.
“I’m going to bed,” said Angelina, getting slowly to her feet.
“Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream. … Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and find we haven’t played yet. …”
She was soon followed by Alicia and Katie. Fred and George sloped off to bed some time later, glowering at everyone they passed, and Ginny went not long after that. Only Harry and Hermione were left beside the fire.
“Have you seen Ron?” Hermione asked in a low voice.
Harry shook his head.
“I think he’s avoiding us,” said Hermione. “Where do you think he — ?”
But at that precise moment, there was a creaking sound behind them as the Fat Lady swung forward and Ron came clambering through the portrait hole. He was very pale indeed and there was snow in his hair. When he saw Harry and Hermione he stopped dead in his tracks.
“Where have you been?” said Hermione anxiously, springing up.
“Walking,” Ron mumbled. He was still wearing his Quidditch things.
“You look frozen,” said Hermione. “Come and sit down!”
Ron walked to the fireside and sank into the chair farthest from Harry’s, not looking at him. The stolen Snitch zoomed over their heads.
“I’m sorry,” Ron mumbled, looking at his feet.
“What for?” said Harry.
“For thinking I can play Quidditch,” said Ron. “I’m going to resign first thing tomorrow.”
“If you resign,” said Harry testily, “there’ll only be three players left on the team.” And when Ron looked puzzled, he said, “I’ve been given a lifetime ban. So’ve Fred and George.”
“What?” Ron yelped.
Hermione told him the full story; Harry could not bear to tell it again. When she had finished, Ron looked more anguished than ever.
“This is all my fault —”
“You didn’t make me punch Malfoy,” said Harry angrily.
“— if I wasn’t so lousy at Quidditch —”
“— it’s got nothing to do with that —”
“— it was that song that wound me up —”
“— it would’ve wound anyone up —”
Hermione got up and walked to the window, away from the argument, watching the snow swirling down