10. First Game
Story Start: Early November
As the year entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaver skin boots.
The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first game after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship. Harry himself didn't care so much about the placement in the tournament than he did in not making a fool of himself in front of his aunt and so for the last week had did his best to keep pace with his veteran teammates earning obvious approval from his Quidditch obsessed captain.
For all that he had been to every practice just like the others though, hardly anyone had actually seen Harry play because said captain had decided that as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept secret. A little bit of charm work by the upper year members of the team kept any prying eyes from spying on them during practice. Still, the school all knew he was the Seeker for his House team and the reactions were getting a bit ridiculous in the final days leading up to the first match. He would have one group of students whose parents went to school at the same time as his parents tell him that he would be just as good as James Potter and the next moment some guy from Hufflepuff would jokingly call out down the hall that he and his buddies would be running around the pitch with a mattress to catch him. Honestly though, that might just have been posturing from a Quidditch nut considering he was standing right next to one of the Hufflepuff beaters at the time.
Hermione, Merlin bless her, went a different route. Instead of encouraging her new friend verbally, one day instead put Quidditch Through the Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp onto the desk they had unofficially claimed as their homework station and slid the small one hundred page hardcover across the table and said "Here Harry, this should prove a good read for you once your homework is done."
And it was. Harry learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert. Harry was pretty sure that last one was less the game's fault and more the fault of unhappy spectators making their displeasure at a Ref's ruling known.
'Mysteriously' disappearing referees aside, the day of the match dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match. Well, the chatter of those who weren't interested in the woman sitting next to Harry giving him tips about how to use his magic internally to keep himself warm while flying, the rest of the Gryffindor team taking notes with several Ravenclaw students unashamedly listening to the impromptu lesson the next table over and taking their own notes. It wasn't everyday one of the top five Sensors gave a lesson on low level magic after all, no matter how small said lesson seemed at the time.
Still, even with an unexpected 'guest speaker', time still flowed and by eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars since while the seats might be raised high in the air, it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.
Hermione was sitting next to Petunia, the bushy haired bookworm still taking the chance to get an in-depth perspective from an actual sensor in how they were a part of the magical society. On Petunia's other side, Neville, Seamus, and Dean listened with half an ear even as they took part in an impromptu wave that swept through the stands.
Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes when Wood cleared his throat for silence. Once he had it, he looked at them all and said "Alright everyone, it's time for those weeks of training to mean something. When you go out there, I want to see a hundred and ten percent. Keep your heads clear and for the beaters and seeker, your heads on a swivel. Good luck, and may the Slytherins be sent slithering back to their pit."
"Oorah!" The twins hollered out with grins and pumped fists, the rest of the team gaining grins of their own before they all stood up and began walking out of the locker room. Harry was last out, following Fred and George out onto the field to loud cheers. The team marched over to where Madam Hooch was waiting in the exact middle of the field, the Slytherin team soon joining them.
"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her and Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him, "Mount your brooms please."
Harry quickly mounted his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.
Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor-what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor."
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.
"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle – that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by the Slytherins – that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goal posts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFINDORS SCORE!"
Gryffndor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.
"Budge up there, Move along."
"Hagrid!"
Petunia and Hermione shifted over allowing Hagrid enough space to join them, the large man readily accepting Petunia's hug.
"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"
"Not any by normal means no." Petunia said, her eyes flicking to a spot on the field where she sensed a small magical signal and saw said golden ball was zigzagging around before darting underneath one set of stands and then quickly came out again. Shrugging, she looked back up to Hagrid's face and said "Harry's refraining from taking advantage of his locator charm and looking for it old-school style like the good sportsman he is."
Hagrid hummed in approval as he raised his binoculars skyward towards said Seeker and said "Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'."
Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.
"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."
When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once he caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting his way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Harry dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.
"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.
"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?"
A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.
Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch – all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.
Harry was faster than Higgs – he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead – he put on an extra spurt of speed – and it was only with Sensor trained reflexes that he managed to barrel roll around a charging Marcus Flint who tried to block him, the very tips of his hair brushing the Captain's foot as he continued diving. Higgs however wasn't nearly so lucky and had to temporarily break off his dive in order to avoid having Harry's intended fate instead delivered to him.
Harry didn't see that though, nor would he have cared if he had. His entire focus instead was on the golden ball, the two quickly reaching the grass below and shooting off at a ninety degree angle, Harry's shoes briefly kissing the grass to the roar of the non-Slytherin members of the watching crowd as he zig-zagged after the Snitch for thirty seconds before with one last burst of speed snatched it out of the air, going into a 'skidding stop' and holding it high.
"AND POTTER'S GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS IN AN ABSOLUTE BLOW OUT OF ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY TO ZERO!" Lee Jordan shouted causing the whole stadium to shake with the roaring of the crowd. The Slytherins all looked like they had bit into more than a dozen of the Headmaster's favorite candy but no one else cared about them, too pumped up on the adrenaline that came with such an overwhelming victory for the house of Lions.
End
Author's Notes: Poll and Update Schedule on my profile.