The usual disclaimer applies here. Apart from stuff I make up (and there'll be plenty of it), everything is owned by J.K. Rowling.
Now, I've heard that it's sort of unwritten fanfiction law in the Harry Potter universe that everyone has to write a Final Battle story. Well, I sat down for a while, thought it over good and hard, and decided to write a Quidditch World Cup Final story instead. :-P It just seemed like the right thing to do after I bought a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages.
World Cup Finals
by Scott Jewett
"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the final match of the four hundred and twenty-third Quidditch World Cup!"
The noise was deafening, even down in the players' entrance. I could barely hear myself think. I could tell my teammates were the same.
It had been an interesting few months, following the regular Quidditch season. Being picked for the American National Team, learning to work with my new teammates...not to mention the grueling two-week quarterfinal match against Italy. We'd have been knocked out of contention right there if their Seeker, Francisco Locarno, hadn't been the unfortunate victim of a Bludger Backbeat at the last second while he and I were racing for the Snitch.
And now here we were, in a specially constructed stadium in the Australian outback, waiting to face an English national team that looked unstoppable. I really wasn't looking forward to Seeking against Harry Potter. I'd followed every match he played in since he joined the Chudley Cannons (A/N: Like I was going to put him somewhere else?), and...well I've never seen anyone Seek like that. I would have to be on my guard the whole time.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce...the American National Team mascots!"
I wonder sometimes if Muggles understand that flying reindeer are actually quite real. They are in America at any rate. What looked like about a hundred flying reindeer soared over the stadium, trailing colors from their tails. In a matter of seconds, a huge American flag was floating over the crowd. Slowly, the flag faded out, leaving giant moving logos of the American Quidditch teams represented. (You'll find out what they are later.)
As the logos died away, the announcer roared (thanks to the Sonorus charm) "And now! Put your wands in the air for...the English National Team mascots!"
It was absolutely beautiful. Out of a specially created entrance came row after row of unicorns. Baby unicorns. Every one of them was under two years old (evidenced by their gold coats instead of white). They simply stood there for a while; then, something extraordinary happened. The unicorns matured right before everyone's eyes! Spreading from left to right (or whatever, depending on your point of view), the unicorns turned from gold to silver. The only ones that didn't were specifically placed in the group to spell out "BRITAIN". It was amazing to watch.
The unicorns trotted off to the English side of the pitch as the announcer roared, "And now! Ladies and Gentlemen! I give you...the American National Team!"
(A/N: Just because I can, I'm listing every player and the team they play for.)
"Twin Beaters for the California Condors...Steve and Paul McNamara!"
"Chaser for the Florida Fireballs...Megan O'Reilly!"
"Pride of the Sweetwater, Texas All-Stars... Keeper Ronnie Jones!"
"Chaser for the Chicago Cyclones...Kristen Bruno!
"The star Chaser of the New York Bombers...Cadia Robertson!"
"Aaaaaaand..." At this point, something happened that was relatively new for Quidditch matches. The captains had their own entrance music! "Playing Seeker for an injured Maximus Brankovitch III...the star of the Arizona Scorpions and interim captain of the American team...SCOTT JEWETT!"
I flew out onto the pitch to the tune of the Scorpions' "Rock You Like a Hurricane", chosen, I suspect, in homage to the team I play for. It's the only thing I can think of that would justify the entrance of the American captain being precluded by a German Muggle band's music. I smiled grimly at my teammates, knowing exactly what was coming.
"Now, witches and wizards, allow me to introduce...the English National Team!"
"From the Appleby Arrows...Chaser Robert McIntyre!"
"From the Wigtown Wanderers...Beater Sarah Parkin!"
"From Puddlemere United! Chaser John Thomas!"
"From the Falmouth Falcons, Beater Kris Broadmoor and Chaser Ralph Winston!"
"And finally..." The music kicked up. Black Sabbath's "Iron Man". At least they got an English band for English captains. At this point, the crowd's screaming was becoming almost unbearable, "I give you the stars of the UNDEFEATED Chudley Cannons, co-captains of this English team...KEEPER RON WEASLEY AND SEEKER HARRY POTTER!!!!!!"
I thought I was going to lose my mind from the noise. The two of them came zooming out onto the pitch, joining their teammates. I wobbled slightly on my broom from the noise as the announcer kept talking (although I've no idea how anyone heard him).
"And now, the guest referee...head of Britain's Department of Magical Games and Sports...former Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps...wands in the air please for Ludovic Bagman!"
Bagman flew out onto the field carrying the trunk that the Quidditch balls were in, instead of the usual way. Setting it down in the central circle, he motioned for the captains to come down to him. I landed quickly, still wobbling a little. After a quick debate between the two, Harry stayed in the air while Ron came down.
"Boys" Ludo said, looking to each of us (with some disappointment at Ron...perhaps he expected to see Harry), " I want a good clean match from both your teams. Shake hands!"
I shook Ron's hand. We smiled grimly at each other.
"Too bad wizards know charms to keep from getting hoarse, huh? This'd be easier if the crowd was quieter" I mentioned. Ron smiled a little wider.
"Yeah...Harry sends his regards by the way. He thinks you're great." And with that, he hopped on his broom and flew back to playing height.
I stood there stunned for a second. After all, its not every day a wizard finds favor with the defeater of the Dark Lord.
"In the air, Jewett!" I jumped at Ludo's voice, snapping out of my reverie and jumping back on my broom. I flew up to my teammates.
"Ok guys...and girls of course" I said. "We've gotten this far, haven't we? We must be pretty damn good to have made it to the World Cup!" They cheered collectively.
"I don't need to tell you to do your best...I've seen it from you for the past three months! Now, let's get ready to play, and bring the World Cup to America!" We all cheered and got into position, ready to play.
Ludo kicked open the box holding the Quidditch balls, releasing the Bludgers and the Golden Snitch. I tried to keep my eyes on it as it circled my head, then Harry's, but to no avail. We both lost it.
About a second later, we both also pulled up hard on our brooms to avoid a fourteen-player pileup. Bagman had thrown the Quaffle into the air. I flew up as high as I could, watching black and blue blurs shooting across the field, keeping an eye out for a glint of gold and silver. I could see Harry doing the same not too far away.
"And it's Robertson with the Quaffle! Bruno! Oh no! A Bludger shot by Parkin, and now Winston's got it! McIntyre! Thomas! Steal by Bruno! O'Reilly! Robertson! A shot! Oh, what a lucky save by Weasley!"
Can you tell that the announcer was American? Yeah, he was a little biased. Especially being my old schoolmate, Ryan Wilson.
"And Weasley releases the Quaffle again to Thomas, who almost immediately drops it thanks to McNamara's Bludger shot! Nice work Steve! or Paul! Whoever!"
Watching the action was making my stomach twist. I kept searching for any glint of light on the field. Cadia's watch, Kristen's earrings, Harry's glasses, the silver fastenings on Sarah's robes, John's gold tooth...
I dropped a little lower when I noticed something near the ground. It was...that was it! The Snitch!
I dropped like a sack of wet potatoes toward the ground, my hand already stretched out. I could hear Harry gaining on me (his damn Firebolt could easily outstrip my Nimbus Two Thousand and Two) as I got closer and closer...
A prickle at the back of my neck told me to look up. Sarah Parkin and Kris Broadmoor, both daughters of well-known Quidditch players, had come together and slammed a Bludger in my direction. The second Bludger was, by an odd coincidence, also coming towards me. Acting completely on instinct, I threw myself to the left, colliding with Harry and knocking both of us off our brooms as the Bludgers missed me and flew off to do more damage.
"WOW! What a Dopplebeater Defence by the English Beaters! Both Seekers seem to be ok, although they've fallen off their brooms..."
And we had. We both lay on the ground groaning.
"Are you alive?" I said. I heard Harry chuckle from somewhere nearby
"No. Are you?"
"Nope." I got to my feet, a little unsteady. Harry did the same.
"Sorry to run into you like that. I wasn't expecting both Bludgers...obviously." He just smiled.
"That's the way the game's played, sometimes. Don't worry about it. At least you kept me from getting the Snitch." He smiled again and got on his broom, zooming back to playing height. I quickly followed.
A quick look at the scoreboard showed me that England was up by twenty points...although according to Ryan, some of those points were in debate.
"DAMN IT REF THAT WAS STOOGING! THEY WERE BOTH IN THE SCORING AREA! AHHHHHHH I CAN'T STAND IT! JEWETT! YOU LAZY, SNORING BASTARD! GET THAT SNITCH!"
Ah, good old friends. Give them an inch and they'll tell a hundred thousand people that you snore. I was gracious about it though...I flew past the announcer's box so fast that he probably didn't see me give him the finger.
"YEAH SO'S YOUR MOTHER SCOTT!"
What? I didn't waste the time trying to figure it out. I scanned the pitch, looking for that elusive little Snitch. I tried to shut out everything but that...although Ryan just kept screaming louder somehow.
"YOU CHEATING LIMEY SCUM! UP YOURS FIRST, TWICE, AND SIDEWISE!"
This was getting to be pretty entertaining, really. I remembered times in school when Ryan would yell so much that he lost his voice (before he knew the right spells of course). My reverie was interrupted, though, by a black blur racing to the other side of the pitch. A black blur with glasses!
I shot off as fast as I could, knowing it wouldn't be enough. We'd lost. I couldn't beat Harry Potter to the Snitch. Hell, I couldn't even see it...Wait a minute!
I stopped dead, staring ahead as hard as I could. There was nothing there! He was trying to fake me out! I smacked my head against my broomstick a couple of times, feeling completely stupid (and getting a headache. That's what happens when you bash your head against oak like an idiot.). I turned around and kept looking for the Snitch.
"AND JEWETT SPOTS AN OBVIOUS WRONSKI FEINT...ABOUT TEN SECONDS AFTER I WAS EXPECTING HIM TO! HE'S ALWAYS BEEN SLOW, FOLKS...I REMEMBER THIS ONE TIME IN POTIONS..."
I made a mental note to curse Ryan as soon as the match was over. And I hoped I could end it soon. England was pulling ahead. Their Chasers seemed to be performing flawlessly. More than once, they'd pulled a Parkin's Pincer...a classic move named after Sarah's ancestors, the seven sons and daughters of Walter Parkin who created the Wigtown Wanderers. McIntyre and Winston would come up on one of our Chasers on either side, while Thomas flew straight toward her. The play didn't always work, but when it did, it was a valuable steal for England.
"FOR GOD'S SAKE, SCOTT, CAN'T YOU GET YOUR GIRLFRIENDS TO DO BETTER THAN THAT????"
Forget cursing; I was now officially going to kill him. There was no point in telling everyone that I had dated both Kristen and Cadia. And as far as I could tell, neither of them liked him for saying it either. They grabbed Steve and Paul's bats from them and went straight for the nearest Bludger, hitting it with more strength than I'd ever seen from them and knocking it straight towards the announcer's box. I laughed out loud as Ryan ducked, apparently forgetting the charms on the stadium. He got up, breathing heavy.
"AMAZING! UNPRECEDENTED! NEVER BEFORE SEEN IN THIS MATCH OR ANY OTHER...TWO CHASERS PERFORMING A DOPPLEBEATER DEFENCE AGAINST THE ANNOUNCER!!!!"
I couldn't help but grin at my two favorite people in the world. Kristen grinned back and shot off in pursuit of the Quaffle. Cadia smiled at me, mouthing a quick "Love you" before performing a flawless Sloth Grip Roll to avoid the Bludger shooting at her from behind. I'd always wondered how she did that. It was really like she had eyes in the back of her head...
It was about then that I heard a new noise. Not the screams of the crowd, who were going ballistic. Not the screams of the announcer, who was also going ballistic. Not the soft whooshing of blurry Quidditch players shooting around under me. It was more like a screeching noise. I'd heard it once before, but couldn't place it.
I noticed that Harry heard it too. I flew over to him.
"You hear it too huh?"
"Yeah. That screeching noise. It's so familiar, but I can't place it..."
Since we were facing each other, I could see behind him. That's how I noticed the light flashing off something.
"Look!" I said, pointing. "What's that flash of light?"
It was outside the stadium (we were fairly high up) and seemed to be getting closer. I couldn't make out what it was...slightly due to my lack of knowledge about Australian magical creatures. Harry figured it out, though.
"Chuzzwuzzers? Here?" I turned to look at him in shock.
"Did you say 'Chuzzwuzzers'?" He nodded. I gulped.
Now, I imagine that you Muggles in the audience are wondering what a Chuzzwuzzer is. Imagine a kangaroo. A twenty-foot-tall kangaroo with razor sharp fangs and claws, and the ability to spit acid. Ok? Good. Chuzzwuzzers look nothing like that.
"Chuzzwuzzer" is actually common slang for the Antipodean Opaleye, a dragon native to New Zealand and Australia. They're really quite beautiful creatures...yes, very beautiful killing machines they are. They have multi-colored eyes with no pupils, and beautiful pearly scales. There was what seemed to be a small army of them flying towards the stadium. Their screeching was getting loud enough for our teammates to notice, and the odd head in the audience.
"I thought those things were non-aggressive...at least by dragon standards" I said to Harry.
"Very true. They're only supposed to kill if they're hungry. I think the bigger question, though, is why they're here." I squinted in the general direction of the Chuzzwuzzers.
"You know, that might be it..." I pointed. In front of the dragons were several little blurry specks that they seemed to be aiming their bright scarlet flames at. (I wasn't nicknamed Hawkeye at school for nothing.) The way the specks were moving was giving me a slight notion.
"I've got an idea." Quickly, I pulled my wand and aimed at the crowd.
"Accio Omniculars!" A lone pair of Omniculars shot out of a spectator's hands and into mine. I quickly raised them to my eyes, adjusting the zoom. The blurry specks were wizards! They were riding Firebolts (lucky bastards) and tossing what looked to be pale grey balls back and forth. It took me a minute to figure it out. When I did, I realized that there was a serious problem.
"Harry, there are wizards leading the Chuzzwuzzers here. And they've done it by taking their eggs. The dragons must be nesting mothers. They're actually tossing them back and forth!"
"But who's doing it?" Harry asked. "No idea. I don't know who the wizards are. Here, have a look." I handed him the Omniculars. He took a look, and his jaw dropped.
"It's the Warriors! The Woollongong Warriors! I can recognize three of them...they were on the Australian National Team!"
"And you guys beat them in the quarterfinals" I said. I remembered listening to highlights of the match. It had been a slaughter. The English Beaters had really done their job. By the time Harry caught the Snitch, the entire Australian team was injured, except for a Chaser and a Beater.
"Yeah, I think it's pretty safe to say they want revenge. They picked a good time for it too."
"Ok, so what do we do?" I asked. "Summoning Charms?" Harry shook his head.
"Not from this far off. I've got some ideas though. Let's both call a timeout, ok?" I nodded and signaled for a timeout. Harry did the same.
My teammates, not being blessed with my incredible eyesight (or the time to sit around on their brooms and watch events unfolding outside the stadium) were understandably confused. They all wanted to know what was going on, so I filled them in. Megan was affected the most by the news. In the short time I'd had to get to know her, I'd come to realize that she was a great fan of dragons. Her one major regret in life, in fact, was being born in a country where dragons aren't normally found.
"So" she asked, eyes bright with excitement, "we get to help dragons? I can finally do something more than visit them on the protected reserve in the Bermuda Triangle?" (A/N: Gee, a place where planes and ships just sort of "magically" disappear...) I nodded.
"And it won't be just you, either. We're all going to help the Chuzzwuzzers. Even the English team." Paul spoke up.
"I hope you realize..."
"Everyone came here to see a Quidditch match, not to watch both teams just leave the stadium" Steve finished his twin's thought.
"Yeah" Ronnie piped up. "Do you really want to handle a hundred thousand angry witches and wizards with wands?" Megan whirled angrily on the three of them.
"But it's for DRAGONS!" She had a look in her eye that made me think she might have a little dragon blood herself.
"Look!" I said. "We don't have much time to discuss this. The Warriors are getting closer, and where do you think they're going to throw those eggs? And you know the Chuzzwuzzers will tear this stadium down to get them back. Let's go!" I did a 180° and shot off, up and out of the stadium. A series of soft whooshing sounds told me my teammates (and possibly the English side) were right behind me.
"WHAT'S THIS? BOTH TEAMS LEAVING THE STADIUM? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
Well, there was my answer. Harry pulled up beside me soon after.
"Got a plan?"
"Well, not a very good plan, I admit...just your basic "steal the Quaffle and go for the goal" play. I see we had the same idea about the Bludgers, though." I said, looking back over his shoulder at Kris and Sarah beating a Bludger back and forth between them, just like Paul and Steve were doing on my other side.
We were getting close now. I could make out the Warriors. They were a big, strong looking bunch. They were all weather burnt...the kind of look you'd expect from either a Beverly Hills Muggle who's spent too long in the tanning booth, or a man who's lived all his life in the Australian outback or Sahara Desert. And I say that having gotten more of a look at their bodies than I ever wanted to...apparently the preferred dress code for wizards in the outback is "as little as possible". Hygiene didn't seem to be a factor in their lives either...not even the women. They were all dirty, with long greasy matted hair and barely any teeth. However, the oddest thing about them, surprisingly, was how well they could fly. I respect anyone who dares to pass a fragile dragon's egg around hundreds of feet off the ground while dodging dragon fire.
It was about then that they noticed us, I think.
"G'day then!" said Angus Black, Beater and Captain of the Warriors for roughly seventeen years, if my memory served me correctly. "I don't suppose you youngins are here to play catch, are ya?" I was about to reply when Megan elbowed me aside.
"How DARE you take those dragons' eggs, you brutes! You monsters! I demand you put them back right NOW!" All of us stared at her stupidly for a second, until Angus started laughing. His teammates joined in.
"Well now! This little missy's got some spunk, ain't she?" he said. "I like that in a lady!"
"She's not here for you to like" Harry spoke up. Angus noticed him, and his eyes narrowed.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the great Harry Potter! England's star Seeker! And the rest of his piddling little team that beat my mates and me!" Harry didn't even flinch.
"That's right, Angus...and if you don't give those dragons back their eggs, we're going to do it again." I had to look at him in awe just then. He sounded so heroic...well you had to be there. Even the Warriors were looking a little fearful. Not Angus, though. I should have known he had a plan. He looked back behind himself to where the Chuzzwuzzers were gaining, and fast.
"Well, Potter...I don't think we feel like giving the dragons back their eggs! How about..." and he looked back at all of us, "YOU do it!" At that, each of the Warriors tossed the egg they were holding in the air and shot away.
The Chasers and Keepers on our teams reacted out of instinct. They shot into the air and caught the eggs before they fell. Unfortunately, they caught them well within the range of the dragons' excellent eyesight. Harry and I, joined by Ronnie (Ron had beaten him to the last egg) just sat there for a second in shock.
"That was both the most cowardly move I've ever seen, and one of the most brilliant" Harry remarked. I didn't have time to agree before the dragons attacked. Brilliant shafts of light rocketed from their mouths towards our teammates, who were saved by some extremely quick Shield Charms.
"Ok, go!" I yelled. "Get to the ground and get AWAY from those eggs! Join us when you can! We're going after the Warriors!" We were off like seven bolts of lightning...or at least seven really fast blurry things.
Fortunately for us, the Warriors hadn't decided to Apparate. They were still escaping by broom, which made it easy to catch up. An idea struck me, and I yelled it as best I could as we flew.
"Harry, Ron...when I yell, drop down! And you Beaters...when we drop, Doppelganger Defence!" They all nodded as we drew closer, and I pulled my wand.
"Sonorus!" I said as I tapped my throat, and assumed the best Australian accent I could. It wasn't that great.
"G'DAY, MATES! REMEMBER US?" As the Warriors turned in midair, Harry, Ron, and I dropped down as the Beaters launched their Bludger attacks. The two Warriors they hit didn't have their wands out in time...fortunately, they slumped over their brooms in such a way that they didn't fall off. They just drifted slowly down to the ground.
Quickly, I repealed the Sonorus charm and pulled up, aiming my wand at another of the Warriors. Unfortunately, I had to swerve to avoid a curse that Matilda Young (Warriors Seeker) shot at me. Aiming at her, I blurted out "Expelliarmus!" She got knocked off her broom, her wand falling to the ground as she hung on by one hand. I risked a look at everyone else. The Beaters, having been deprived of the Bludgers by some well-placed spells, were dodging even more spells and using both their bats and wands when they could. Harry and Ron were dueling with Angus and another man, whom I recognized as the Warriors' other Beater, even though his name slipped my mind.
Dodging a stray curse, I got an idea. Quickly, I jumped up and stood...yes, stood, on my broomstick. Maneuvering like a Muggle snowboarder or skateboarder (in case you couldn't tell, I grew up Muggle), I performed what was becoming known in American Quidditch circles as the Simmons Steal, perfected by Julia Simmons, Chaser for the Kansas City Clabberts. Steering my broom around and behind one of the Warriors firing spells at our Beaters, I jumped off my broom, leaping ahead and to the left of it. Turning my upper body, I grasped my broomstick with both hands, swinging up and kicking the man off his broom and using the sudden stop in momentum to land safely.
"Perfect! Julia would be proud, Scott!" Paul said as he fired a curse that knocked another Warrior out cold. I agreed. Julia had always said that having another Quidditch player perform a move named after her was about all the pride she'd get after playing for a team named after a silly magical animal with a glowing zit on its' forehead.
"STOP!" I yelled. I didn't really realize I had that much authority, but it seemed to work. Harry, Ron, the Beaters, Angus, and his two remaining teammates all froze.
"Angus, I'm sure you pride yourself on being a big strong outback type...but do you really think you can win a seven on three fight?" I asked.
Angus merely smiled.
"I don't think, mate...I know!" he said.
"Uh huh...ok, how about fourteen on three?" I said as Ronnie and the Chasers showed up, wands drawn. Angus and his teammates turned to look at the new arrivals, which was their biggest mistake.
I snapped my fingers. Ropes sprang to life around Angus, pulling him down and binding him tight to his broomstick. I flew down and caught his fallen wand as Harry and Ron quickly disarmed his teammates. The two of them saw reason a lot more quickly than he did, and surrendered.
"Good boys" Harry said. "Ralph, John, go down to the ground and revive those two Warriors that were hit with the Bludgers. Don't forget to get their wands first. Scott, you disarmed Matilda...hey where is she?"
That was the last I heard before I felt something big pushing me off my broom, coupled with the sensation of being hit on the head with a brick. Both my wand and Angus' slipped from my fingers. I saw the ground coming up, and thought dully to myself "idiot...you should have known she'd get back on her broom!" before the world went black.
-------------------------------------------major time jump------------------------------------------
White.
Endless white.
It was the kind of white that made me think I'd ended up playing a magical harp for St. Peter.
Fortunately it was just a hospital...and the mediwizard was checking my eyes with the bright light coming from the tip of his wand.
"Ok could you NOT do that please?" I asked. He jumped back in some surprise.
"Oh, you're awake!" he said. "Well, that's wonderful. We'd fixed the damage to your head from the spell, but you were still out cold for a while. We weren't sure why."
"Gee, I dunno" I said. "Maybe it was from hitting the ground after falling about sixty feet from a broomstick!" The mediwizard looked at me in minor confusion before his face brightened.
"Oh, I see! You think you hit! Oh no, Mr. Jewett. From what I've heard from your teammates, Harry Potter performed a spectacular dive and caught you by the foot about ten feet from the ground! I do wish I'd been there to see it."
I didn't even want to know why he wanted to see someone fall off a broomstick. "Where are my teammates?"
"We're right here, you dork" Cadia's familiar voice rang in my ear. I turned to look and smiled as they walked in and surrounded the bed.
"Well, Scott, you're a hero." Kristen said, holding up a newspaper. A picture of the World Cup, depicting Harry and I racing for the Snitch, was on the front page. The headline read "Captains Courageous". Skimming the article, I noticed I was praised for my "ability to react smoothly under pressure...such as facing deadly dragons" and "realizing that some things are more important than Quidditch".
"This isn't right though...we should all get equal credit" I said.
"Believe me, we agree" Megan said. "But you know the press...they go for the most famous face they can find. And who's more famous than The Boy Who Lived?"
Ronnie spoke up. "Harry gave an interview about how you were the one who took charge when the Australians turned tail and ran. Not only that, he had to do it about sixteen times before anyone believed him. They all wanted to believe he was the hero."
I could understand that. "What about Matilda Young? She's the one that hit me with the curse, right?"
"Yeah, that was her" Cadia said. "And trust me, she regrets it. She's in a special wing of this hospital that deals with multiple-curse attacks. Every one of us in the air hit her with something different...when she came in, she looked kind of like gelatin with vague human shape." I laughed at that, as did everyone else. Even the mediwizard.
"Hey, what about the Cup?" Everyone groaned.
"It was ruled a tie." Paul dropped the bomb.
"A tie? But we weren't even on points, were we?" I asked.
"Are you kidding? We were a hundred and fifty points down!" Megan laughed.
"However, your leadership skills during the whole thing seemed to be, to the referees and people in charge, to be a feat equal to that of catching the Snitch" Kristen said.
"So, as Paul said...a tie." "Yeah."
"A tie." I thought about it for a while. "A tie. Well, I can live with that if you guys can. And if you can't, well, it's already been decided." I looked around at my surroundings, already bored with them.
"I can't wait to get out of here...say, where's Harry and the rest of the team?"
"They had to go back to England" Steve said, "but Harry left you something." He tossed me a small square box with a familiar logo on it. I recognized my personal MagiSoft ME-mail (Magical E-mail to you Muggles out there) box.
"He left me a ME-mail?" I grabbed my wand from the bedside table and tapped the box, saying "Receive". Harry's image appeared in front of me.
"Good game, Jewett. You're a hell of a Seeker. See you in four years, so we can do it right next time." His image flickered and faded away. I smiled.
"See you in four years, Harry."
The End
(A/N: Just a few things. Angus Black is no relation. Magical E-mail is something I invented literally five seconds before I put it in the story. And I didn't realize the similarities between the American team and the Gryffindor team (the way it SHOULD have been in OOtP) until I was almost done. (Three female Chasers, twin Beaters, a Keeper named Ron...spooky huh?) So anyway, this is my big Quidditch story. I'd like to have more...write a whole season out involving the Arizona Scorpions...in fact I might! Or you guys out there can, as long as I get credit for inventing the name. You wouldn't even have to use the same Seeker. Annnnnyway...it's late and I'm tired. Reviews please!)