BEING BRITISH (ENGLISH, ALBEIT NOT VERY SPORTY) A MAJOR PART OF THE TELEVISION AT THE MOMENT IS 'THE ASHES' A CRICKETING EVENT IN WHICH THE ENGLISH PLAY THE AUSTRALIANS FOR THE ASHES OF SOME CRICKET STUMPS. THIS IS BASICALLY INSPIRED BY THE FACT THAT THE MATCH TODAY WAS WON BY ENGLAND TODAY. WHEN THE NEXT MATCH IS OVER, I SHALL WRITE THE FINALS OF THE QUIDDITCH TOURNAMENT, BUT THAT WILL ALL DEPEND ON THE RESULTS OF THE NEXT MATCH. I KNOW THERE ARE NOT 7 MATCHES IN THE TOURNAMENT, BUT THAT IS HOW MANY THERE ARE IN THE ASHES (I'VE JUST WORKED OUT) SO THAT'S HOW MANY THERE ARE IN THIS.
A/N – James is seeker, Sirius is a beater, the captain (who has no name) is the other beater. Regulus is a Slytherin beater. Nott is the slithering seeker. This is the semi-finals.
"And welcome to the semi-finals of the quidditch tournament, Gryffindor against Slytherin! Te commentator, Sonja Lewis, a Hufflepuff announced. "And… Gryffindor in possession." A few minutes later there was a wild scream as Gryffindor scored. The score board read:
Gryffindor
Matches one: 2
Matches lost: 1
Matches drawn: 1
Slytherin
Matches one: 1
Matches lost: 2
Matches drawn: 1
Half an hour later and the teams were neck and neck – 90 points each. THUD. A bludger, sent by Regulus, smashed into James's head, nearly knocking him out of the air.
"POTTER WAKE UP!" The captain screamed as there was a blur that went past him. James, rubbing his head with one hand, realised it was the Slytherin seeker. He spun round sharply and the seeker crashed into him, onto holding onto his broom with one hand. The whistle blew.
"TIME OUT, JAMES!" Sirius called up, standing on the ground.
"POTTER, BRING NOTT DOWN WITH YOU!" McGonagall said over the magical microphone. Reluctantly, James let Nott drop onto him broomstick.
"Potter, what the hell happened?" the captain snapped.
"You might not have notice, but James was hit in the head by a bludger," Sirius snapped. "James, are you OK to play on, mate?"
"Fine," James winced in pain as he gingerly poked the bruise on his head.
"Back in the air now?" the captain asked. "Are you OK to play on, Potter?" James nodded. "Any tactics?"
"Smash 'em to pulp!" Sirius roared.
"Potter has already earned them a penalty," the captain snapped. "We don't want any more."
There was something, high above the game… gold! But both James and Nott were distracted by a great cry of excitement, which rapidly changed into disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters. An hour later and neither team had scored. We need to finish this game soon! James thought desperately. And then… He saw it! Down by the ground. Regulus saw him diving and sent a bludger at him, but James was too hyped up to notice when it cannoned into his side, pushing him sideways, his hand tightly clasped around the tiny golden snitch. No-one noticed that James had landed. Slytherin even scored a goal before everyone noticed that James was punching the air triumphantly. The whole Gryffindor team was hugging him tightly, Sirius had his arms tightly round his best friend, the rest of the team hugged him wherever they could. James was hugging Sirius so tightly round the neck that it was amazing he could still breathe. The captain mucked up James's hair, all three chasers punched him on the arm, but still Sirius didn't let go. It was almost as if they had just won the last match and the cup.
A/N – Australians, please don't take offence at this. It's only me being extremely hyper. English are usually… uh… terrible at sport, mostly cricket.