Chapter 1: Red vs Yellow
Madam Hooch released the quaffle, and fourteen yellow and scarlet streaks shot into the air atop their broomsticks.
"And the match is UNDERWAY," came a young girl's amplified voice across the greens lawns of the quidditch pitch, "And Potter, of Gryffindor, seizes the quaffle and sets off towards Hufflepuff's hoops! Passes to Maple, who reverses to Hampton – close one there! Narrowly avoiding a bludger, Hampton drops the quaffle. And it's quickly recovered by Hufflepuff's Plember, and he's off toward the opposite field."
"Damn," James muttered. It had all happened in mere seconds, and he jerked his broom handle, changing course and heading back toward Gryffindor's hoops.
Plember's possession didn't last long, as he too dropped the quaffle as a nicely aimed bludger hit him squarely in the chest.
James heard his teammate, Joey Maple, yell, "Nice one Bobby!" over the wind in his ears as he sped forward, grabbing the prized red ball before the other Hufflepuff chasers could recover it.
"And there's Potter with the quaffle again, after Gryffindor beater, Bobby Watson, hit his mark. Watson seems to be making a great addition to the Lion's team! Potter passes to Hampton, up field. Nice dodge there Hampton! Back to Potter, who has great position, and…"
The ball seemed to move in slow motion as James watched the Hufflepuff keeper dive. The quaffle grazed his fingers and soared straight through the center hoop.
"He SCORES! Ten – zero, to the red and gold!"
James smiled. Ten points up, but they had to put more on the board if they were going to win. Hufflepuff had a strong team this year.
The match played on, the commentator's voice loud over the stands.
"And Hufflepuff is heading toward the hoops…"
"Nice save by, Jackson…"
"And both teams continue to hit these bludgers with a furry…"
"Hufflepuff SCORES!"
"Gryffindor SCORES!"
"We could not have asked for a more beautiful day for a match."
"Still no sign of the snitch…"
James had scored his fourth goal, an uproar from the scarlet side of the stands filling his ears as he sped toward his fellow chasers, Joey Maple and Matt Hampton, giving them both high-fives during the short pause in the game. And just then, James felt a horribly strong force hit his right side and he was unseated from his broom. With years of experience in the air, James managed to grab his broom handle, and hung there a moment as he heard the crowd all exhale at once; relieved he hadn't plummeted to the ground.
Hoisting himself back onto his broomstick, he heard the whistle of Madam Hooch, followed by her strong voice.
"You DO NOT aim bludgers at players during a pause in the game, Kline!"
"I'm sorry Professor! It was an accident. It was coming at me and I just hit it! I wasn't aiming for anyone," the angered beater yelled back.
Madam Hooch gave him a hard stare that drove the boy into silence, "Never the less, penalty to Gryffindor!"
James pushed on his now tender side and immediately yelped. His team sped toward him to assess the condition of their best scorer, all except for their seeker, John York, who used this precious time to continue his search for the elusive snitch.
"You okay?" Joey asked, wiping the stray hairs that had escaped from her ponytail from her face.
"Yeah, fine." James responded, with a forced smile.
Matt had approached his right side and lifted up James's robes before he could move to protest, he hissed in sympathetic pain.
"I'm fine!" James insisted, righting his robes.
"And the question remains," came the commentator's grave voice, "will Potter, Gryffindor's top scorer, continue in the match…"
Joey rolled her eyes muttering, "Emily, always with the dramatic flair."
"Come on, I've got a penalty to take," James responded, pushing the injury to the back of his mind. As far as he was concerned, quidditch only stopped when you lost a limb. Maybe.
The teams continued to play, and the score became seventy to thirty, Gryffindor holding the lead. Each chaser scored their share, and there was many close calls with the bludgers.
"And Maple loses the quaffle while avoiding yet another nicely aimed bludger by Barbo there. I must say, Hufflepuff may not have quite the talent that Gryffindor has in their chasers, but their beaters are superb!
Gryffindor back in possession, after a nice strip by Hampton. He's off toward Miller at the Hufflepuff hoops. Still no sign of the Snitch from York or Rently, it's anybody's game at this point. Hampton reverses to Maple, who quickly passes to Potter who dodges – A SPELL! WHAT?! What cheating BAS-"
Emily's outrage was cut off as McGonagall snatched away something that resembled an old radio microphone. "Miss. Eckle, you watch your language!" But her attention was not on the young girl beside her, but scanning the crowd like a hawk.
Other than the small struggle over the microphone as Emily tried to reach past her Head of House to seize it back, on the field Gryffindor captain and seeker, John York, had abandoned his search for the snitch and was screaming in indignation at Madam Hooch, having heard the commentary.
"This is an outrage! That could have KILLED HIM! What are they playing at?!" He pointed violently at a vague point in the crowd where the spell seemed to have come from, a large number of green robes in the area.
Madam Hooch's voice cut off any further rant he had, "I very well know what could have happened, York!" She then turned to the crowd in anger, yelling threats at the top of her voice.
James sat motionless atop his broom, shaken. Even in pouring rain and fog, with vicious bludgers, playing against opponents twice his size – James had never felt unsafe on the quidditch pitch. But to think, someone firing hexes at him as he flew defenseless, seventy feet in the air, was quite frightening.
Joey approached him and spotted the uncharacteristic frozen look upon his face, "James, you alright? Madam Hooch is awarding you a penalty shot."
James nodded, swallowing down his fear and gripping his broom. "Yeah… yeah. Let's go. If you see an opening, let's try that new formation we've practiced."
The game resumed, with little excitement other than normal quidditch occurrences.
"And Hufflepuff scores, making the score a hundred and thirty to seventy, Gryffindor holding the lead all match. And Potter is moving up field once again. Oh no! Two bludgers headed straight toward him!" Emily said without breath, "James! Move!" She released a sigh and took up the commentary again, "And with catlike reflexes he somehow manages to dodge the double attack, but not without colliding with Hufflepuff chaser, Zemboli. Penalty awarded to the yellow and black!"
"Sorry," James muttered, tossing Zemboli the quaffle, who had obtained a bloody nose in the collision.
And the game went on, more intensely than ever. After their chaser had gained a bloody nose, the Hufflepuff beaters seemed to be pelting James with bludgers left and right. Apparently they were not happy about the collision, and James wondered if there were more than two violent balls flying about as they constantly rained down upon him.
As James's shoulder was grazed by yet another bludger, causing him to lose the quaffle, Emily's voice rang across the pitch, "At the rate Hufflepuff's beaters are playing, Potter cannot seem to hang onto the quaffle for very long, not if we don't want him killed… And Hampton with the recovery. Gryffindor still in possession. Passes to Maple. Back to Hampton. To Potter, who SCORES! One hundred and seventy to One hundred and ten! I guess Potter doesn't need the ball for more than a few seconds to do damage."
Just as Hufflepuff took possession of the quaffle, James saw York shoot off toward the Gryffindor goal posts. He pursued the quaffle but kept glancing at his seeker, more a spectator than player at this moment. The crowd held their breath as Emily's voice rang out, "York and Rently seemed to have caught sight of the snitch!"
Emily too went quiet and the microphone caught the voice of a young, dark, handsome boy sitting beside her, "Come on, York!" The bark pierced the silence, and John York's hand reached out and closed around what seemed to be air. He suddenly pulled his broom to a stop, his fist raised high above his head, and a tiny gold ball struggling within his fingers. The crowd roared as Madam Hooch blew her whistle, calling for an end to the match.
James could hear a mixture of gasps, groans, boos, and cheers from the crowd while Emily stated the conclusion of the match, "And John York of Gryffindor catches the snitch! Closing the match at three hundred and twenty to one hundred and ten. Gryffindor wins! That's another one in the books, folks. To both teams – good game and good luck with the rest of the season! I am Emily Eckle and it was a pleasure to commentate your match…GO GRYFFINDOR!" she added hastily as McGonagall made to snatch the microphone away.
James flew toward John, a huge grin on his face, when suddenly he felt a jolt and a searing pain erupted from his shoulder, across his chest and stomach, and down to his opposite hip. At first he thought a rogue bludger was still pelting about, but this pain somehow seemed different. Both hands reflexively wrapped around his torso, and letting out a yelp of pain he swayed dangerously on his broom, nothing to balance himself but his legs. Looking down in confusion he saw his scarlet robes becoming deeper in color and his hand dyed red. The pain was unbearable, and without attempting to regain his balance, he slipped off his broom, hearing a few horrified screams as he fell into darkness.
Author's note: Just something that I wrote a long time ago and decided to share. The story is complete. Not sure how many chapters it'll be yet, but no worries on it not having an ending as it's all typed up. Review Please! Next chapter will be more character heavy as this was a game chapter.
And disclaimer!In no way do I own anything involved with Harry Potter.