As the months had passed, my detentions with Snape had continued, but after a few weeks of that horrendous chair, they had changed as well. He now usually had me bottling the slimiest potion ingredients or drying the foulest smelling herbs he could find, some from the greenhouses, some ordered special. It was something to do, but every once in a while, I still found myself thinking longingly of that chair. Snape had changed patterns too; he used to just sit silently, ignoring me until ordering me to leave, but now, he would often talk at me, usually lecturing on the subjects of the virtue of well-behaved friends or the evils of being nosy. I usually did my best to tune him out, but every once in a while, I just couldn't help adding a quip here or there. It would piss him off and he would heap on the insults for a while, but he seemed to have trouble actually punishing me for talking back. As head of Slytherin House, he wanted us to win the House Cup at the end of the year, a competition between the houses based on the points McGonagall had mentioned at the start of term. Because of this, he rarely took points from Slytherins, even me. He also hated assigning me detentions because it meant more time he had to spend on me. So I grew used to his sneers and rudeness, quickly learning just to ignore them when they came. He grew even more irritable after Halloween, having somehow injured his leg when looking for that troll. He limped around grumpy and looking for people to snap at.
I had also started spending more time around the Slytherin common room when the twins weren't around which, as the first Quidditch game of the season came closer, became more and more often due to their captain calling a flurry of last minute practices. Isaac, Terence, Joshua and Justin turned out to be surprisingly normal guys and we spent a lot of evenings studying together near the common room fire. "So," Terrence said one night as we switched from Transfiguration to Potions. "You're cheering for Slytherin on Saturday, right? Or will you be rooting for your friends?"
"What?" I asked without looking up. I was digging through my bag looking for a blank and unrumpled piece of parchment to write my essay on.
"Quidditch!" he stressed as if it should be my top priority. "I'm Seeker. You'll be wearing green for the match, right?" The others, aside from Justin who had dozed off two assignments ago, were looking at me expectantly. The first match of the season was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, the grand rivalry and even Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws often dawned red or green. Fred and George were beaters for Gryffindor and Lee had signed up to commentate matches this year.
"I'll cheer for Fred and George and root for Slytherin, deal?" I checked them. They shrugged as if this was the best they could hope for and I chuckled. "I'll be in green," I promised and they looked decidedly cheerful, especially Terence who had been nervous for this game. This was his first year on the team and wasn't in as good of standing with Marcus Flint, team captain, as the rest of the team was.
"You'll do great, Terence," I told him and he shrugged, looking away. When Fred, George and Lee had told me about Slytherins on the train, I had assumed they were all arrogant and self-centered, concerned only about being the best. That was true to an extent—we did work to be the best, even when we weren't born there—but there, on the point of our self-centeredness, there was something off. We cared about taking care of ourselves, but that extended to those we were close to. A week ago, a fifth year girl hexed a seventh year Ravenclaw because he had cheated on her best friend. And when some older students started throwing insult at me, literally wads of paper, scribbled with insults and launched into my hair, all four of my new friends stood to defend me, taking those scraps of paper and charming them to shoot right back at the ones who threw them, splaying across their eyes and gluing themselves across their vision. It could have easily turned into an all-out battle, but as Justin explained in my ear, people were careful about joining sides, because once they did, they didn't switch.
The momentous day arrived. Flint called a practice at seven AM so Terence wasn't there to wish luck. Instead, I peeled off from the others once we reached the Great Hall, heading toward the Gryffindor table, plopping down across from Fred and George. They looked at the scarf Justin's sister had lent me, she had four, before looking at my face. "Those are traitor colors," Fred said with a serious face. I stuck my tongue out at him.
"I'm attempting not to be killed by my house mates. Besides, Terence is playing. But don't worry, I'll cheer for you two."
George nodded around some bacon. "You had better," he told me sternly and I grinned.
"So, how's Harry doing?" Harry Potter had somehow gotten himself as the new Gryffindor seeker and, if reports were to be believed, he was a spectacular flyer. Fred and George said Wood had been trying to keep Harry's appointment and abilities a secret, but word had leaked into Slytherin common room last week. The poor kid, famous apparently for defeating a dark wizard as an infant, looked absolutely terrified down the table from us. Ron, Hermione, and a couple other kids I couldn't name, were trying to get him to eat, but he wasn't having it.
"He'll be fine," Fred promised. "This kid is amazing! Natural flyer, that one." I had heard the same all over the school, though I wasn't sure where it had spread from.
"Let's hope so," I said cautiously though. "Right now, it looks like he's about to barf."
"So did these two before their first game," Lee said.
"Did not!" Fred and George both protested loudly. "We were poised," Fred said.
"Confident," George added smoothly.
"Shaky in the knees." Lee ducked out of reach of George's swing and I laughed at them, building myself a breakfast sandwich with the food on the table.
"French!" I turned to where fifth year Oliver Wood behind me, looking like he was about to explode.
"Wood!" I said imitating him. Fred, George and Lee snickered from the other side of the table, but Wood ignored them.
"What are you doing to my players?" he demanded, pointing stiffly at them. I had seen Oliver Wood around the halls and in the Gryffindor common room. He had always seemed to be a normal guy; hardworking, sure, but not maniacal. The look in his eyes at this moment though, bordered on dangerous. I probably shouldn't have, I continued to poke at the cranky lion.
"Well, see there's this Confundus Charm Flickwit mentioned a couple weeks ago and I figured this would be a good time to try it out. They're my test subjects." Fred and George both crossed their eyes and started teetering in their seats.
"Oh, Wood," George said in a slurred, drunk sounding voice. "We'll be fiiine! But it might be best if you stop dancing now."
"Otherwise, we'll have to waltz too, and tha' would jus' be embarrassing for alllll of usssss," Fred added. Wood turned almost purple in that moment.
"French, back to your own table," he ordered loudly, catching the attention of others down the row a bit. I snickered, taking my sandwich with me.
"Good luck, Gryffindor," I laughed over my shoulder at them. I heard Wood telling the boys that I was not longer allowed at their table on game days.
"Oliver, we were only joking," Fred said.
"Seriously, Oliver, calm down." I joined my own table again, sitting myself on the other side of Justin's sister, Juliana and putting my sandwich on a proper plate while I poured myself some juice.
"Psyching out the Gryffindor team?" Isaac asked me in an approving tone.
"Just their captain," I answered. "Wood's a bit…intense, don't you think?"
Isaac shrugged and Joshua said, "It's Quidditch," like that explained everything. Not too long later, and I was being dragged down to the Quidditch pitch. Sports had never been my thing and I doubted it ever would be, but even I had to admit that this Quidditch pitch was jaw-droppingly awesome. The pitch was twice as long and twice as wide as an (American) football field. The three hoops at each end of the field where at least fifty feet tall, and stood there stoically as if they were lords of the world. We were in our seats by ten thirty-five because the boys insisted that we get "worthwhile" seats this time. We had to climb one hundred and twenty six rickety stairs to reach these worthwhile seats. All the stands were raised about sixty feet in the air because in this sport, no one wanted floor seats.
The boys quickly started debating game stats and broomsticks and I-don't-even-know-what-else. I leaned over, into their conversation to ask, "How long 'til the game starts?" We had already been here almost ten minutes and I was bored out of my mind.
"About fifteen minutes," Isaac answered me before falling right back into their conversation. I rolled my eyes. Boys! Wondering why we had had to get here so early, I pulled a novel out of my bag to wait—it wasn't as if I could contribute to a Quidditch discussion anyway. I was just starting to really get into the story when the book disappeared from my hands.
"Hey!"
"Who brings a book to a Quidditch match?" Joshua asked while Isaac held my book out of reach.
"Someone who doesn't want to sit here bored for another fifteen minutes," I said with exasperation. "Give me back my book!" I could see in his face that Isaac was going to refuse so without waiting for his response, I shot a light stinging hex at his wrist and a summoning charm at my book as it started to fall from his grip.
"Hey!" This time it was him who objected.
"Hey yourself. You stole my book. Fairs fair."
"Fair would be stealing it back. A stinging hex is overdoing it." He was still rubbing his wrist even though I knew it hadn't been that bad.
"The hex was so you would know not to do that again. If you want me to put my book away, tell me and I will. But only if you all aren't going to talk about completely boring things." He scowled at me while Joshua and Justin looked on.
"Fine, put your book away," he said grudgingly. I acquiesced without hesitation and turned back to them, waiting for someone to say something.
"How could you possibly think Quidditch is boring?" Justin asked, breaking the short silence. "I mean, you've seen it before, right?"
"Not really. I know the basics because someone at me last school explained it too me, but there are too many regulations in America for most anyone to play the game for real." They all stared at me in shock and I suppose Isaac had forgiven me because he was the first to speak.
"You've really never seen a game before?" I shook my head. Without preamble or invitation, they launched into explanations of the game, going into more depth than had ever been explained to me. I nodded trying, and hopelessly failing, to absorb everything they said.
Quite suddenly, they were interrupted as Lee's amplified voice called across the pitch, "Here come our two teams, Gryffindor and Slytherin!" The entire audience silenced as, sure enough, fourteen people walked across the field, coming from opposite sides, towards Madam Hooch, who stood in the center next to a large wooden chest. Slytherin team wore dark, emerald green robes, all walking straight and proud. Gryffindor team wore their ruby red, just as proud, except for maybe Harry who stood behind the twins and looked a little uncertain of how he had gotten on that pitch. Both teams gathered around Madam Hooch and she spoke to them for just a moment before they all mounted their brooms. She blew her whistle and without further ado, the teams lifted off. Madam Hooch released the bludgers and snitch from the chest and tossed the Quaffle into the air, like a tip off. A Gryffindor blur immediately swooped in and grabbed it dodging Slytherins as she did so. Lee's voice rang out, saying, "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"
I laughed along with a most of the rest of the crowd while McGonagall called angrily, "JORDAN!" by way of reprimand.
"Sorry, Professor," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "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." The green crowd around me who had been yelling insults at the Gryffindors and encouragements to the Slytherins, broke into cheers as a large green blur intercepted the Quaffle. "Slytherin Captian 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." I don't know if it was Lee's commentary or the energized crowd around me, but I booed along with them at this development. "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 bludgers—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—sh's really flying—dodges a speeding Bludger—the goal posts are ahead—come on, now, Angelina—Keeper Bletchley dives—misses—GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" While the red crowd across from us, and a good chunk of the yellow and blue crowds too, we all broke into boos, yelling abuse at Angelina, Bletchley and Gryffindors as a whole.
"Slytherin in possession, Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the—wait a moment—was that the Snitch?" I broke off cheering with the rest of them, as a rumbling murmur spread across the audience. Both seekers, Terence and Potter were diving at a glint of gold, practically even with one another. It seemed the whole pitch had frozen, even the other players though I knew they were not supposed to, to watch the seekers, only the two of them and the two bludgers still moving in the air. Everyone could see that Potter was pulling ahead; he had the better broom, a new Nimbus Two Thousand. I might not know anything about brooms, but everyone talked about the broom like it was a Ferrari. But then Flint blocked Potter, causing the kid's broom to spin off course as he narrowly avoided a collision. We cheered though that move earned a foul for us, giving Gryffindors a free shot. But that glint of gold was lost to both Terence and Potter. Lee, along with the booing, howling Gryffindors, wasn't happy about Flints move.
"So—" he began angrily. "After that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating—"
"Jordan!"
"I mean, after that open and revolting foul—"
"Jordan, I'm warning you—"
"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, not trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession." I laughed at Lee's frustration, sure that it wasn't really that bad. The score was twenty to zero to Gryffindor and I, along with the rest of the Slytherins, was yelling at our team to start scoring some points. We had stolen back the Quaffle and Lee was saying, "Slytherin in possession—Flint with the Quaffle—passes Spinnet—passes Bell—hit in the face by a bludgers, hope it broke his nose—only joking Professor." I looked up to see Fred and George high five one another as they passed, Fred looking quite smug and I couldn't help but laugh which earned me the stink eye from those around me. "Slytherin score—oh no…." Those who had been glaring at me stopped as we all cheered. All of a sudden, the Gryffindors were pointing at something high above the game. The rest of us looked up to see Harry drifting higher and higher on a broom he couldn't seem to control.
Most of the Slytherins around me started to jeer, laughing that Potter had lost control of his broom, but that didn't seem right to me. Anyone who had seen him fly said that he was great, one of the best they had ever seen. There was no way he just suddenly wouldn't be able to control one of the world's best broomsticks. The broom which was already jerking and bucking started doing barrel rolls, while Harry held on for dear life. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that the broom was trying to kill him. But it couldn't have, brooms can't make decisions like 'let's kill my rider,' they didn't have minds to think with. I wondered if Flint or one of the other Slytherin players had bewitched the broom somehow, but they looked as bewildered as everyone else. The broom was doing a series of weird twists while the entire crowd stood with baited breath. Even most of the Slytherins looked terrified for Harry—they might not all love Gryffindors or Potter, but no one wanted to see a kid die. The twins had both flown up to aide Harry, trying to pull him from his broom to one of theirs, but every time they got too close, the broom would jerk aggressively at them, making them jump back before it would drift higher. The twins finally had to resort simply to circling under the broom to catch Harry when he fell. I began praying under my breath, but those around me didn't seem to notice, all attention pinned on Harry.
And then without warning, the broom stopped, and Harry who for the last minute or so had been hanging onto it like a sloth, climbed back on looking justifiably shaken and the crowd let out a collective breath. That breath was taken right back though as Harry dived sharply and I wondered if the broom had come up with a new tactic to kill Harry. He dove right past the twins who sped after him still pointed almost straight down at the ground. He put a hand to his mouth and it looked like he was about to vomit. I wouldn't have blamed him if he did, but when he collapsed to the ground and coughed into his hand, it wasn't puke that came out, but that elusive glint of gold. He stood shakily, waving it over his head and yelling, "I've got the Snitch!" and with that, the game was over, though no one seemed to have been playing for the last ten minutes. The score was one hundred and seventy to sixty—though none of us remembered when Slytherin had made those points—and it wasn't looking like the common room would be a fun place to be tonight.
I slipped past the grumpy Slytherins and crossed over to the Gryffindor side. Lee was still gleefully singing the final score into the microphone and surprisingly enough, McGonagall didn't seem in any hurry to stop him. I had to skirt around a very upset Slytherin team as they stomped by, Flint still yelling angrily, "He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it!" No one else seemed to care though. The game was over and I had to push through Gryffindors to reach the team. Wood eyed me suspiciously as I approached.
"Congrats, guys!" I told the still laughing and dancing team. Harry looked both very happy and very confused. "You okay?" I asked him and he nodded shakily. Fred and George swooped in making me dance with them.
"How was that?" George asked with a huge grin.
"I bet your Slytherin buddies aren't too happy, are they?" Fred added with a smirk.
"Not at all," I told them cheerfully.
Wood stepped up then, eying me carefully. "Come on, you two, back to the locker room," he ordered.
"Lighten up, Oliver," Fred crowed, "We won!" There was a definitely look of triumph in Wood's eyes, but he didn't respond, just turned to gather the girls of the team. "C'mon, wait for us in the common room?" I nodded without thinking about it. "Good, we'll grab some stuff and be there in a bit." They hurried off after Wood and the girls then. I made my way up to Gryffindor common room. When I stepped into the common room, everyone was still loud and cheering. It quieted a little when I came in, though.
"Mind if I crash your party, then?" I asked the room that was staring at me. If I hadn't been such a usual fixture in here before, I'm sure they would have kicked me out right then, but instead, most of them laughed. Lee sidled up to me then, a huge smile on his face.
"What? You don't want to be in your own territory right now?"
"Nope. I'm pretty sure the rest of them would eat me alive right now." Not that going to party with the Gryffindors would help me on that front. I will say this though:
Gryffindor know how to throw a good party.