Hey, everyone. This is my first fan fiction, but don't hesitate to rip it to shreds. Thanks, DF
Chapter One: The Quidditch Match
Esmeralda Longbottom sat on one of the locker room benches, lacing up her Quidditch boots. She could hear the crowd roaring outside; it was the first game of the school year. It was her first game in any form, actually. She'd never seen one, and she'd certainly never played in one. She was only a first year, too.
"Nervous?" Matt Gibson asked, sitting down beside her. He was the team's captain and seeker
"No," she said, meaning it. "Should I be?"
"Not with your talent…"
Talent, she thought. They kept saying she had it, and she'd never even sat on a broom up until a few weeks ago. They'd gawked at her when she first kicked off—but she didn't think she'd done anything that impressive. It was almost as if they'd expected her to fall off or some other dreadful thing. People tended to think she'd be horrible at anything.
"Just checking…" She laced up her other boot. "How much longer?"
Matt glanced at his watch. "Any moment now. We're just waiting on Davidson."
Esmeralda hopped to her feet and grabbed her broom. "Well, tell her to hurry up."
"Anxious, then?"
"Fine, yes. I'm anxious."
In a few minutes, Pam Davidson came rushing over. "Gibson!" she said, pointing a finger in his face. "You're killing me. I've trained for five years as right chaser! I've led Ravenclaw to the Championship—"
"Which we lost," Matt pointed out.
"That we lost, but I still got us there, and now you're making me a left?" She shoved one of the game charts in his face.
Matt stared at it for a while. "Girl, you read it upside down. You're still our right chaser."
Blushing, Pam yanked the chart back and flipped it over. With a frown, she muttered, "So I did…"
Matt threw a smug grin at Esmeralda before waving the rest of the team in. "All right. It's the first game of the year—Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor."
"Go Gryffindor!" Beater Ted Jenkins exclaimed.
"We're Ravenclaw, Ted," the other beater pointed out. Esmeralda couldn't remember his name. He was too quiet, normally.
"I knew that…" Ted said with a grin. "But Gryffindor's not that bad…" For some peculiar reason, he caught Esmeralda's eye right then but abruptly looked away, as if he'd remembered something.
"Yes, Gryffindor's not that bad…" Matt said, "But today we crush them. Ravenclaw is getting that Championship this year! Play hard, play fast—and look good in the process… Davidson, you're killing us. Your ponytail is off centered." Everyone broke into an appreciative laughter. Pam glared at him but fixed her black hair nonetheless.
Ezzy kicked off the ground and felt the familiar tingling in her fingers. She soared over to the goal hoops and hovered there, watching the game with a quick eye. The Ravenclaw chasers were superb, as far as she could tell, but the Gryffindor chasers were brilliant—and headed her way.
She felt as tiny as she was, then, with the three, huge fourth-year boys zooming in towards her. It didn't frighten her, however. She liked being small, but they apparently thought, judging by their grins, that her size was to their advantage. Keepers were typically strong and large, not tiny. She was fast, though. She was very, very fast.
One chucked the ball at the hoop and she caught it without so much a thought. She tossed it to Pam as she whipped around the posts, and returned to hovering attentively in front of the middle hoop.
The cycle repeated itself, but from comparing everyone else's expression to her own state of mind, she felt miserable. After all, wasn't she supposed to be enjoying herself? All she was doing was catching a red ball. It wasn't difficult, and certainly wasn't exciting.
Esmeralda flicked a speck of lint of her robe before kicking the ball back to one of the Ravenclaw chasers. She dodged a budget—or at least that's what she thought the bloody little things were called—with a soft side sweep and stifled a yawn as Ted rushed past her. Professor Binns' lectures were more engaging than this. Why had she agreed to play in the first place?
It was her last thought before something struck her in the back. The sheer force was enough to topple her off her broom, her body now burning as if on fire. Her scream caught in her throat as magic stole away her breath and before she hit the ground, she had passed out cold from the pain.