"Merlin's beard!" Exclaimed James Sirius potter as he narrowly avoided a concussion from a buldger.
He looked back over his shoulder, where the buldger had zoomed off, and shook his head. Cheers from the crowd quickly regained his attention and he looked just in time to see his cousin, Rose-Granger Weasley, throw the quaffle throw the middle hoop.
"ONE POINT FOR GRIFFINDOR!" The commentator's voice bounced throughout the quidditch pitch.
James thought it was a pure miracle that the great, burly, bull of a Slytherin keeper somehow missed blocking the quaffle.
James focused his attention back on his own role on the field. His eyes wandered over pitch. Looking for the tiny, beautiful flying Angel - better known as the golden snitch. Though his keen gaze turned up nothing. he grimaced and quickly shot his eyes heavenward. There hovering above the quiditch pitch completely unmoving, was James' Slytherin counterpart - whose name James had forgotten. Anxious thoughts like, "what if he see's the snitch first" did not claim James' mind. He was much too self-assured for his own good. Instead A playful glint appeared in his eyes, and an impish smirk slowly crept across his features.
"ONE... WAIT NO, TWO POINTS FOR GRIFFINDOR!" Echoed the commentators voice as the team managed to score twice in the space of a few seconds.
Though, at that moment, the Slytherins regained control of the quaffle and took it to the middle pitch, but were unfortunately unable to get it further, blocked by Gryffindor. So it was there, dead centre of the pitch, that both teams congregated. Battling viciously to get past the other.
Quite randomly, James darted off into this direction. Swerving wildly and unruly. He knew the Slytherin seeker had given chase - thinking James had sighted the snitch. James continued to fly recklessly - heading straight for the closest Slytherin player. Which "coincidently" happened to be his brother's friend; Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius froze in shock as he saw James hurtling straight for his face at 100 miles per second. At the very last moment, James gave a steep nose dive. His nimbus 2032 being quick and flexible, thus allowing him to do so. His Slytherin counter part was not as lucky. He collided straight into Scorpius and the two tumbled off their brooms and onto the sandy ground below. The crowd broke into a frenzy. The Slytherins jeered and shouts of foul play were very much audible. Madam Hooch, though, waved the game on. The commentator stating that the event had simply been an unplanned accident. James gave his signature mischievous smile, for he knew the event was most definitely not accidental. He darted off again, weaving past the remaining players with supreme expertise, removing himself from the main action of the quidditch pitch. (Before he "accidentally" got hit by a buldger.) Upon returning to his place to the side, James finally spotted it. There, just hovering by the Griffindor keeper and James' own best friend - Louis Weasley - was the golden snitch. James violently speed forward. Before he slammed into Louis though, he curved his broom upward into an arc, stretched out his arm...
But the snitch was just as tricksy as James. It allowed James to brush his finger tips against it, before suddenly darting to the right and out of sight.
"Bloody hell," James muttered, straightening up his broom and pulling it to a halt. "Bloody thing." He cursed again.
His friend shot him a disgruntled look, "If anyone here is cursing it should be me." he said and James laughed.
His attention quickly returned to the pitch again as the commentator once again called a point for Gryffindor.
His eyes suddenly focused on the tangle of Slytherin boys lying on the ground below. The snitch hovering over their unconscious bodies. James' eyes grew wide and he sped off. Scorpius, who had begun to pull himself into a sitting position, threw himself to the ground as he saw James hurtling towards him - only for the second time. James passed over him without so much as a second glance. Stretching his arm out... But the snitch just out of grasp. He pulled his arm back and focused on gaining speed as the snitch led James on a wild goose chase.
"C'mon," James shouted at the snitch, "You know you can't beat me. I'm top dog here."
The snitch didn't reply.
James hefted his feet up onto his broom, with ease, and stood. A technique he had practised often. Soon he was surfing through the air. He stretched out his hand and like that - easy as pie - wrapped his fingers around the delicate metallic body of the snitch.
"Told ya," he whispered into his hand as the golden snitch folded its wings up in defeat.
He glided down to the ground, elegantly making the transition from his broom to the sandy pitch. He held up the snitch victoriously and beamed as the crowd went wild. Elation filled his entire being and he pressed the snitch to his lips before holding it up again for display. If possible the cheering only grew louder.
The commentators voice boomed, "GRIFFINDOR WINS THEIR FIRST ROUND OF THE SEASON! AHEAD OF SLYTHERIN BY ONE HUNDRED AND NINETY POINTS!"
James thought that he would never be able to stop smiling.