What the Snitch and Pitch Decide

Talon McGreggor

Chp 1-- The Pitch

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I'm not getting any money for writing this or posting it. As someone else once said in a disclaimer, I'm simply taking them off the shelf to play with, then putting them nicely back.

"And they're off! The quaffle goes to Gryffindor as Johnson races toward the goal...Beautiful pass to Bell. Katie's going, going! Oh! Bludger to the arm; that's gotta hurt! It's Slytherin captain Montague, down the pitch. Common' guys get in there!"

Lee Jordan took only a second to gasp a breath. "Yes! And a nice bludger aimed by Fred Weasley. Seekers still circling; doesn't look like they've found much. The dropped quaffle's intercepted by Johnson. Johnson racing down...Good move!" he yelled. She'd dodged the bludger, never losing speed. Crabbe sneered and veered off another course. His head raced and heart leaped to keep up with his tongue. "Slytherin keeper's ready to block! And, and, YES! GOAL! Ten points Gryffindor, first point of the game." Lee moved away from the mic. He'd never had trouble keeping up before. Maybe he was getting slow. Nah, that couldn't be it. The games were getting more intense. By far.

"Montague's got it again. Boy's he fast, common' someone give 'im a bludger!" He got away with the comment without the usually warning from McGonagall. "Where're the beaters?!? Bell and Johnson racing to intercept, and damn don't she look good?" This earned the glare.

"Jordan!"

"Sorry, ma'am," and he continued unphased. "Montague's aiming, it's thrown, and by god! Weasley's caught it! Nice save, man." Jordan's eyes raced around the pitch, finding the action the crowds wanted highlighted. "Looks like they're seen the snitch! Malfoy's flying toward his goal posts, looped around them. Potter's hot on his tail. It's a race to the death, folks. They're in a dive."

Draco was ahead of Harry by at least one broom; Harry working hard to close that difference. They could both see the snitch in front of them. Sunlight shone brilliantly off its polished sides. The distance finally closed and both extended their arms.

"They're in for it. They'd better get it! Come on, Harry!" Lee's voice boomed around them.

The snitch, which had danced in the daylight ahead of them quit its teasing and shot up vertically, a foot and a half from the ground. Harry and Draco were each engaged in blood curdling dives. Harry shut his eyes now, bracing himself for the worst. The adversaries hit the ground. Hard. Malfoy landed on his wrist, which made a loud crunch from the impact. Madame Hooch groaned. He wouldn't be happy. Harry luckily rolled onto his shoulder. The second his feet felt the ground he pushed off.

His glasses were hanging precariously on the tip of his nose and he willed the broom faster, afraid they'd fall off at any moment. The wind whipped his hair and stung his eyes, but he was with the snitch. The damn gold ball continued its upward path. Up. Up. Up.

Harry felt his ears pop. How far up was he? An eye on the snitch, he saw every move. It veered to the right. It was now or never. Before knowing if it was commited to the move, The-Boy-Who-Lived swept off to the right, extended his left hand and...

"HE'S GOT IT! HE'S GOT THE SNITCH! Gryffindor beats Slytherin, first match of the year!" The cheering rose up like a cacophony.

***

Lee Jordan walked most wearily back to the castle. 'What. A. Game.' was all that could go through his mind. It'd be so nice if he could get some help up there. Not for the commentary; oh no, no one'd match his wit. Just a reliable person to point him to the action. No doubt about it, if this game was any kind of omen, he'd need a second set of eyes.

"Mister Jordan," addressed the sharp voice behind him. He turned as Professor McGonagall strode meaningfully towards him.

"Professor," he nodded.

Minerva let slip a small smile as they kept pace down the lawn. "A wonderful game today," she reminicsed.

Lee smiled, nodded, then let out a huge yawn. You try being that damn energetic.

"You're in need of more sleep, Mister Jordan."

"No, I've been getting sleep, ma'am."

"Is ought amiss?"

Lee paused. It might sound, well, weak of him if he asked for help up there. But he imagined the games could only get worse from here. What a year.

"Professor, I'd like to ask you something." Slight hesitation. McGonagall looked for him to go on. "I've been doing this for a while now. But you've seen it out there," he gestured to the quidditch pitch. It's worse than Njal's Saga with all that brutality. There's too much action. I need a helping hand to point me to it." His voice almost sounded pleading.

"There's no need for excuses, Jordan, I've been watching the game." The aging witch stared at her pupil intensely. "I will find a partner, if you'd like. Someone reliable, with a good eye for detail."

Jordan smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Professor." McGonagall nodded. In a moment she turned on her heal and was off to a group of nattering coleagues.

The castle doors loomed ahead of them. All he wanted was a nice warm shower and a good meal. A rowdy group made up of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and a few Ravenclaws made way to be first in the castle. Hoisted upon their shoulders were Harry and Ron. Littered behind them the rest of the Gryffindor quidditch team made a processional into the great hall. Every one of them was on the shoulders of cheering students. Victory felt great.

***

A fire cackled plesantly in the hearth. Warm students lounged in over-stuffed scarlet chairs, content with the hot meal the kitchens had provided. A few here and there were completing assignments due the next day, but most neglected their homework. No need to spoil a perfect day.

Hermione Granger lay half asleep on a chair. A loud 'pop' from the fire had brought her away from the cradled arms of Morpheus. She was so close too...

Another pop. She was fully awake now and looked up at the clock above the mantle, a little dismayed she'd nearly slept not in her bed. That wouldn't do.

Stretching, she bade good night to Harry and Ron who were definitely not asleep, and followed two third years up to the girl's dormitories. Half way there, Professor McGonagall called to her.

"Yes, Professor?"

"May I speak to you privately, Miss Granger?" Hermione nodded and quickly masked her fatigue with polite curiousity. Arriving in McGonagall's private office (located off a hallway in the common room), she motioned Hermione into a chair, then took a seat behind the desk.

Cutting right to the chase, she said, "Lee Jordan requests help in the commentary booth during quidditch matches."

Hermione quirked a single brow. "He requested me?"

"No, I told him I would chose a partner." The girl in front of her nodded in comprehension. "He needs a reliable person who won't step out of bounds, not get in his way of speeking. A person with an eye for detail who can easily point him to what needs to be said."

Hermione looked at her teacher. This was a nice surprise. And she could defnitely be more in the action. Too, it'd be nice to do something during the game since she didn't have Ron to watch it with her anymore.

"I'd like that, ma'am." The two Gryffindors smiled at each other. In a moment they rose from the chairs and were at the door.

"You should probably meet him half an hour before the next game. You know where the booth is."

Hermione smiled sweetly and agreed.

***

Draco sneered up at the ceiling. The room stunk. It always stunk. The bloody house elves could wash it and everything in it from now until eternity and would never get that certain...hospital smell from the walls and floor and beds. And thanks to good for nothing Potter, he lay in the reeking bed with a broken wrist. Probably won't even be able to play in the next quidditch match.

'Yes,' he thought, 'this occasion needs some special form of revenge. Something good...' Maybe he could set up Potter to cheat in Potions. Snape would love that. Quietly, the blond Slytherin boy drifted off; vowing, plotting, and carrying out revenge even in his sleep.

((A/N: So what does everyone think? Wow, I'm tired, so I apologize for any typos that I may miss. This is my first shot at a Hermione/Draco and I've only read one attempt at it. More's on the way, I promise; the synopsis is already finished. Hopefully I'll bring you guys something new. And, *hark* I think I've found my muse! Of course, I don't quite know who it is, but I'll update anyone who cares about that later. Please review!

`Talon))