Despite the fact that Adrian had walked the path from the changing room to the Quiddich pitch hundreds of times before, he was still filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement as the sound of the crowd's cheering grew louder. The feeling was intensified by the fact that this was also the first game of the season. The first game of the season was almost as important as the last, as it was a sign of what the rest of the season would look like. All bets were on Slytherin this year, as they had won the house cup the past six years in a row. Even some of the Gryfindors were putting their money on Slytherin. There was a nervous tension between some of the teachers too. Of course, Professor Mcgonagal had stopped talking with Severus Snape on matters of broomsticks, growing rather annoyed with the smug tone of which he talked about his team's success. Flitwick secretly wanted the Slytherin team to eat dirt this year, but wasn't entirely confident in his team's ability to deliver the lashing that the opposing team deserved. But now they all stood around the pitch, anxious as to how this game would turn out. Not even the foul weather could stop them from analyzing every bit of the match.
Fierce wind whipped their hair and robes about violently as they stepped into the open field. Cold air nipped at their cheeks and noses like a thousand tiny insects. In the stands Throngs of students cheered for their favored house, their whoops and hollers barely audible above the screaming wind. Students huddled together in groups, hiding from the merciless elements. In the sky dark clouds hung ominously low overhead. The color and the shape suggesting that a downpour may be imminent. But through all the nasty weather, however, the entire school still showed up for the match.
The two teams walked to the center of the pitch and took their places opposite one another. Red and gold robes of Gryffindor on one side, Blue and Bronze of Ravenclaw on the other. The two team captains, Roger Davies and Oliver Wood exchanged a firm handshake. They both held determination in their eyes, hellbent on winning the first game of the year. There were nods from both teams, and Madam Hooch offered words of encouragement to both. With a loud whistle the teams were off. Their brooms taking to the sky like birds scattering. They arranged themselves into position, Adrian racing toward his place in front of the goal posts. He hovered in front of them for some time, watching the team gather their bearings, before flying in his usual left-to-right pattern. Adrian made sure to be constantly moving, just in case he needed to make a sudden jerk to one side or the other.
The game was well underway, and the team was doing a fine job of keeping the quaffle in their hands. They passed it back and forth between chasers, compensating for the wind and sending it past Wood and through the goalposts three times within the first twenty minutes of the match. Adrian strained to hear the commentary over the loud gusts in his ear, but could only catch bits and pieces. He focused instead on the game before him, making sure to keep his eyes out for the quaffle, and of course the random bludger. Fred and George were a ruthless team with their bats, and had been known to target other players - not just the keepers. Adrian had never been knocked from his broom, but he didn't plan on starting now.
Suddenly, the Quaffle was in gryffindor hands. Cheers could be heard over the wind from the Gryffindor crowd, as Loren Pulsio raced toward Adrian, and pitched the quaffle toward the hoops. Adrian dove to block the goal, reaching an arm out toward the shortest of the hoops. He had been hovering around the tallest one, and was unsure weather or not he would be able to block it. The air was heavy with anticipation for a split second, as the tips of Adrian's fingers brushed the quaffle. It was not enough to stop be red ball, but it was enough to deter it off its course. It hit the outer rim of the hoop, and began to fall toward the ground. The ball was thrown back into play by Madam Hooch before it hit the ground. The Gryffindors groaned at the failed attempt, but it was drowned out by the wind and the loud cheering from the Ravenclaw side. Adrian ignored the crowd and focused his attention instead at the configuration of the keepers on the feild.
The game continued on, both teams scoring goals, with Ravenclaw staying in the lead most of the time. It soon began to rain down upon the crowd. There was a sense of urgency to finish the game, to return to the warmth of the castle. The seekers hunted ruthlessly through the wind and rain for the elusive snitch. Adrian was focused on the quaffle, but couldn't help but steal glances toward the seekers, hoping at any moment one would give chase and the game would be over. A cheer rose from the crowd, as Charlie Weasley tore around the pitch with Vonnie Bishop at his broom tail, chasing the golden blur. "Nonononono..." Adrian found himself whispering. The match was at 55-80, with Ravenclaw holding the lead. But if Weasley was able to catch the snitch, they would take the game.
Before Adrian could see who would catch the snitch, his broom began to quiver and vibrate beneath him. He looked down at the old Cleansweep in confusion, and suddenly the broom fell out of the sky, taking Adrian with it. It was as if the broom lost all magical properties. His stomach jumped to his throat with the sudden feeling of freefall. There was nothing he could do but scream and hang on for his life, hoping that the broom would take to the sky again. He watched the ground come closer and closer, and braced himself for the impact that he was sure would kill him. Moments before he collided with the ground, a hand caught him. Madam Hooch had grabbed hold of his forearm, but it didn't stop the momentum his body had already gained. Adrian yelped in pain as his arm dislodged itself from his shoulder. His broom tumbled from beneath him and landed in the sand with a soft thud. The crowd cheered, and for a moment Adrian thought they were cheering her catch, or his fall. But then he realised that the snitch must have been caught, but he could not tell by who.
Hooch lowered him to the ground, Flitwick and Dumbledore were already hurring toward them, Flitwick having to jog aside Dumbledore to keep up. There were words exchanged between the teachers, words that were lost on Adrians ears. He clutched his shoulder in pain, trying to drown it out by focusing on the sound of the crowd. The next thing he knew, Dumbledore had taken Adrian's good arm and began to escort him back toward the castle, toward the hospital wing. It was the longest walk to the castle that Adrian ever had. He wanted to ask why his broom suddenly stopped working, or who won the match. However, the pain in his shoulder was stopping him from asking too many questions. Flitwick tried a quick binding charm on his arm, until they got to the castle. It wasn't fixed, but it would hold him over until Madam Pomfrey could look it over and work her magic on it.
Just as he thought, Madam Pomfrey took care of his injury quickly and painlessly. He'd been part of the wizarding world for six years already, and he was still astonished at the abilities and properties of magic. He often found himself wondering why they wouldn't share their secrets with the rest of the world, but he knew that not everyone felt similarly. The medical marvels of the Muggle world were nothing in comparison to the abilities a quick spell or potion would have. Not even the strongest aspirin could hold a candle to Madam Pomfrey's painkilling potion, which alleviated the pain the moment the liquid touched his lips.
By the time he was done and bandaged up, professors Dumbledore and Flitwick had already left the wing. He wanted to pursue them and ask what had happened, as Madam Pomfrey was no help answering his questions. He thanked her and left, but saw no sign of any of the teachers around. He decided that he would quiz the headmaster, or flitwick after a good nights rest. Adrian turned and headed straight for the Ravenclaw common room, knowing that the feast must have just ended. On his way back, he pondered to himself what could have happened. Brooms didn't just fall out of the sky like that, did they? Not unless they were very old. And the school brooms weren't that old. At least, not to his knowledge.
Adrian stood outside the common room, and answered the statue's elementry question about potions. The figure jumped aside, allowing Adrian through the doorway. He was greeted on the other side by a Furious Roger. His cheeks was red and his face a distorted scowl. For a moment, Adrian feared that he was somehow in trouble.
"I swear, if I find out who swapped brooms..." he growled through gritted teeth. "I'll... I'll strangle them."
"What do you mean, swapped brooms?" Adrian asked, uncomfortable with the attention that Roger's anger was attracting.
"That was an older Cleansweep model, from decades ago. That thing should have been pitched in the bin. Old brooms are usually decommissioned, so shit like that doesn't happen. No idea where it even came from."
"That's odd."
"Odd? Its sabotage - that's what it is! Those Gryffindors are determined to win this year. Even stooping to Slytherin's level to get that cup."
Adrian highly doubted it was sabotage. Something like that would mean the team would be disqualified for the entire year - and no matter how determined Wood was to win the cup in is first year as captain, they would never stoop that low. "I take it we didn't win the match?"
"It was a seeker's win. Charlie caught the snitch right after you fell. Was a great distraction it was. But the whole broom thing is being investigated. If it turns out they had something to do with it, we win by default."
Roger went over the end game, and the rest of the game five times, since Adrian hadn't been there for the post-game review. Once he was done re-telling the game for the fifth time, Adrian excused himself to his quarters, wishing to avoid further inquiry from others.