For several days in a row, the students couldn't stop discussing the Dark Lord's resurgence and Orli's supposed illegitimacy. People avoided her in the hallways as if she might cast the Killing Curse at any moment or summon the Dark Lord himself. Whenever she walked by, they would point and whisper about her.
If there was one house that doubted Trelawney's prophecy the most, it was undoubtedly Gryffindor.
Apart from Lavender and Parvati, who still held unwavering faith in Trelawney, even Neville didn't completely believe the prophecy—though he would freeze up as if Petrified whenever Orli returned to the common room.
Fred and George, however, found the entire situation hilarious. They made a point of marching ahead of Orli in the corridors, striding with exaggerated confidence and shouting:
"Make way for the child who should not have been born—the successor to the Dark Lord! The most wicked witch is here to bury you all!" Fred announced dramatically.
"And if you're good, she might even bring you back to life! Die and live again! Over and over!" George added with a laugh.
Percy was thoroughly displeased with their antics.
"This isn't something to joke about," he said coldly.
"Hey, step aside, Percy," Fred said. "Orli doesn't have time for you."
"Yeah, she's busy piecing together the remnants or scraps of the Dark Lord to bring him back to power," George said, laughing heartily.
Fred and George's belief that Trelawney's prophecy was utterly ridiculous brought Orli some comfort, though it also made her feel a bit guilty. She knew deep down that this time, Trelawney's prophecy wasn't just a bunch of nonsense. On the contrary, she was almost entirely accurate—except for the part about the Dark Lord's resurgence. Even Orli herself had no idea how the Dark Lord could return when Peter Pettigrew had already been captured.
Fortunately, the attention on Orli didn't last long; soon, everyone's focus shifted to Quidditch.
The match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was scheduled for the first Saturday after Easter. Slytherin was leading by exactly two hundred points. This meant that for Gryffindor to win the cup, they needed to score more than that margin—Harry would have to catch the Golden Snitch only after Gryffindor had a lead of at least fifty points.
Wood kept reminding Harry, "Only when we're more than fifty points ahead, Harry. Otherwise, we might win the match but lose the cup. You have to do this, alright? If we get fifty points ahead, you must—"
"I know, Oliver!" Harry shouted.
The entire Gryffindor house was abuzz with excitement about the upcoming match. They hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since Charlie Weasley graduated. In everyone's memory, no match had ever been so charged with tension as this one. By the end of the Easter holidays, the rivalry between the two teams and their respective houses had reached a boiling point. Several minor scuffles in the corridors escalated into a serious incident, leaving a fourth-year Gryffindor and a sixth-year Slytherin in the hospital wing, with leeks sprouting continuously from their ears.
Harry was more concerned about the safety of his Firebolt than he was about himself. When he wasn't using it, he kept it securely locked in his trunk and often rushed back to the Gryffindor Tower during breaks to check if it was still there.
On the eve of the match, all regular activities in the Gryffindor common room came to a halt. Even Hermione put down her books.
"I can't study. I just can't focus," she said anxiously.
The common room was noisy. Fred and George spoke louder and more theatrically than usual, trying to ease the tension. Wood crouched in a corner, directing tiny figures on a model of the Quidditch pitch with his wand, muttering under his breath. Harry sat with the others but seemed reluctant to talk about Quidditch. Orli thought he was trying not to think about the match.
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