The week of Hufflepuff's match against Gryffindor, Cedric Diggory got sick. He was coughing and sniffling during practice on Monday, and by Friday his symptoms had escalated to a full-blown flu, and he was confined to the hospital wing.
Watson was livid. "How dare he! We're only one hundred points behind Ravenclaw in the Quidditch Cup! Without a proper Seeker, we're done for!"
"Not done for," said Archie Ford. "We've got Wood."
"But she's never played a match!"
"So what?" said Ford. "We've seen her fly; she's fast as hell. She can do it."
"It's not as if we have a choice, anyway," said Callum reasonably.
"Wood'll get us through, Watson," said Owen.
"I can do it," said Maisie.
Watson sighed. "We're playing Gryffindor this week, and Charlie Weasley is the best Seeker the school's ever seen. No offense, Wood, but my expectations are low."
"None taken," said Maisie wryly.
The next morning was sunny and hot. Watson pulled Maisie aside at breakfast to give her final instructions.
"Stay on the shady side of the pitch," he said. "You don't want the sun to get in your eyes. The Snitch will catch the sunlight and you can go straight for it. Watch what Charlie Weasley's doing—not too closely, mind, or he'll feint you. If he goes for something, you should, too."
"Right." Maisie sighed. "I have played Seeker before, Watson. Not in a school match, but still."
"Right, right. Sorry. I'm just—good luck."
Several other second-years stopped by the Hufflepuff table to wish Maisie luck in the match.
"You'll need it, 'gainst Charlie Weasley," said Evie.
The Weasley twins even put in an appearance.
"Hello, Hufflepuffs," said Fred, sliding into a seat next to Maisie.
"And hello, Hufflepuff Seeker," said George, sliding in on Maisie's other side.
"Hi, guys," said Maisie.
"We just wanted to say good luck," said Fred.
"You'll need it, 'gainst the Gryffindor team," said George.
Fred grinned. "Especially our famous brother."
"He's very good."
"The best."
"And we just wanted you to know—"
"That if Charlie gets the Snitch first—"
"It's not your fault," the twins said in unison.
Maisie took a sip of pumpkin juice. "Did you rehearse that?"
"May have." Fred grinned cheekily. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Are you…comforted?"
"Bolstered?"
"Reassured?"
Maisie laughed. "That speech was supposed to make me feel better?"
"Well, yes," said George. "Did it not work?"
"Everybody keeps telling me I'm going to fail today," said Maisie. "How is that comforting?"
"We just meant," said Fred, "that you may be a fine Seeker—"
"You may even be a great Seeker," said George.
"But Charlie…he's been doing it longer, and he's the best Seeker Gryffindor's ever had," said Fred. "So don't feel bad if things go poorly today. That's all."
"Right." Maisie laughed grimly. "Thanks, guys. I'll see you on the pitch, yeah?"
She left them at the Hufflepuff table. Owen and Bryony ran to catch up to her.
"You'll be great," said Owen. "You're a good flier."
"And you're always telling me that your brother trained you in every Quidditch position," said Bryony. "You can do this!"
"Not against the great Charlie Weasley, I can't," said Maisie sarcastically. She sighed. "They're probably right. I probably won't get the Snitch. But maybe I can keep him off it long enough for Hufflepuff to score more than a hundred points. That's what we need to advance in the Quidditch cup."
"That's the spirit," said Bryony.
The match began quickly, with a goal for either side within minutes. Two of the Gryffindor Chasers, Angelina and Alicia, were in Maisie's year, and they were very good. Oliver, of course, was an excellent Keeper; Bryony, Callum, and Archie were hard-pressed to score on him. But they managed it several times by circling behind the goalposts and passing the Quaffle over the top.
About ten minutes into the match, Maisie decided to try something. She started, as if she'd seen something, and went into a steep dive. The stands erupted with screaming.
"It looks as though Wood has spotted the Snitch!" Lee's voice reverberated through Maisie's skull; his microphone was too loud. "Look at her go! She only flies a Cleansweep Six—and there's Charlie Weasley, hot on her tail! C'mon, Charlie, catch her!"
Lee's commentary was not known to be impartial.
The bright green grass of the pitch rushed toward her. The wind of Maisie's descent made her eyes water. At the very last moment, Maisie pulled up on the handle of her broom and spiraled away.
"Oh, no!" said Lee. "Charlie's on the ground! That looked like a nasty crash!"
Maisie pulled up again, dodging a Bludger and two Chasers, and circled the top of the field, searching for a telltale glint of gold. She spared only a glance for Charlie Weasley; he staggered to his feet moments after his crash, so he would be all right. She could apologize later.
She did two laps of the field and didn't spot the Snitch. Charlie was back in the air, dried blood on his face, and Gryffindor had scored twice more.
"Angelina Johnson scores! Ten points to Gryffindor!" said Lee. "They lead on Hufflepuff, ninety to sixty!"
"Get my brother!" Maisie shouted to Owen as he zoomed by.
The next time Callum took a shot, Owen was ready with a Bludger. It hit Oliver squarely in the side of the head, and he rolled on his broom. The Gryffindor stands cried out in dismay.
"Not so hard!" Maisie yelled.
"You told me to get him!" Owen shouted back. "Make up your bloody mind!"
At least he didn't get a penalty, Maisie thought.
Oliver stayed on his broom, but he looked a little disoriented, and missed Callum's next two shots. By the time Bryony got the Quaffle again, he looked more like himself, and blocked it.
"That's good," Maisie muttered. "Mum would've killed me if we did brain damage."
Something caught her eye: Charlie was diving for something.
"Charlie Weasley takes a dive!" said Lee.
Maisie leaned down until her chin touched her broomstick. The old broom responded, and flew after Charlie at alarming speed. Maisie squinted against the wind. Had Charlie seen the Snitch, or was he trying to feint?
She caught up to him, and for a heart-stopping moment they were neck and neck. Maisie wasn't sure she could check her speed; feint or not, she would crash into the ground.
It was a feint: Charlie pulled up at the last second. Maisie pulled back on her broom as hard as she could. She braked, and pulled up, but not quite enough. Her broom bumped the ground, and Maisie banged her knees. She stayed on, and the broom skipped along the grass like a stone on water. Maisie gritted her teeth against the pain as her knees were battered.
There! In the corner of her eye, a flash of gold. Maisie pulled up again—she was about ten feet of the ground—and did a hairpin turn, rolling in midair. The Snitch was beneath the Hufflepuff stands.
"C'mon," she whispered, and urged her broom onward.
"There goes Wood!" said Lee. "It looks like she's got something! Is it for real this time?"
Where was Charlie? Maisie didn't dare look up. If he got to the Snitch before she did…
He came down right in front of her, blocking her. Maisie rolled away and passed him, but the Snitch had disappeared by the time she reached the stands. She pulled back on her broom so hard she almost flipped over, and flew straight up.
"And the Golden Snitch is gone again!" said Lee. "I saw it under the stands over there, and both Seekers were nearly on top of it, but Charlie's maneuver distracted them, and the Snitch escaped! Webb has the Quaffle, he passes to Griffiths—she dodges a Bludger—"
Bryony scored a minute later. Hufflepuff was in the lead again, but only by ten points.
The match dragged on. Lee announced that this was the longest Quidditch game played at Hogwarts in fifteen years. Leah Dixon, Hufflepuff's Keeper, was in rare form, and blocked nearly everything that Gryffindor threw at her. Fred and George, Gryffindor's Beaters, took a few shots at Leah, but after two penalty shots to Hufflepuff (which Archie scored), they stopped. Maisie managed to trick Charlie into a second feint by flying horizontally instead of diving; he narrowly avoided crashing into the professors' box.
"Charlie Weasley has met his match!" Lee said. "In six years of Hogwarts Quidditch, Charlie has only crashed twice—that's what it says here—and lost the Snitch an average of twice per season. But Maisie Wood, whose older brother is Gryffindor's excellent Keeper, is keeping him on his toes!"
"Thanks, Lee!" Maisie yelled as she flew by the stands. He waved cheerily at her. Lee might be fiercely competitive, but he and Maisie had been friends since they were eight.
"The score stands at Hufflepuff, one hundred and ten—Gryiffndor, eighty!" said Lee.
We did it, Maisie thought. We scored a hundred points. We won't be last in the Quidditch Cup this year. Cedric will be pleased.
Two Gryffindor goals later, Charlie Weasley dove again. Maisie spotted the Snitch a moment after he did, glinting tantalizingly above the Hufflepuff goal posts. She wrapped her legs tightly around her broomstick, leaned forward, and shot off like a rocket.
We really ought to wear goggles, Maisie thought as the goalposts rushed toward her and her eyes filled with tears. She blinked the tears away. Charlie had nearly reached the goalposts. Leah dove out of the way.
Maisie had never flown so fast. It was exhilarating. She yelled out of sheer jubilation. Charlie turned his head, and the momentary delay allowed Maisie to almost catch him.
"The two Seekers are neck-and-neck again!" said Lee. "Let's hope the Snitch stays put long enough, though if someone flew at me that fast screaming like a banshee I'd run like hell!"
"Language, Mr. Jordan!" The microphone picked up McGonagall's voice.
Charlie leaned lower over his broom. Maisie would have done the same, but she wasn't sure her old broom could go any faster than it was. She leaned slightly to the left and tried to jostle him, but it was like trying to knock over a brick wall.
The Snitch was just ahead. It was trying to get away; they both veered sharply right to follow it. Maisie had to make the tighter turn, and lost a bit of speed. Charlie pulled ahead—just barely—and snagged the Snitch with his fingertips.
"Charlie Weasley catches the Snitch! Gryffindor wins, two hundred and fifty to one hundred and ten!"
Charlie did a lap of the pitch, waving the caught Snitch. His team fell into formation behind him, screaming their victory. The Gryffindor stands were beside themselves.
Maisie pulled up her broom, breathing heavily. Despite the loss, she felt deeply satisfied. A warm sense of triumph brewed in her core. Hufflepuff would not be last in the Quidditch Cup. Maisie had not completely embarrassed herself as Seeker.
Bryony pulled up next to her. "That was close! But we scored a hundred points."
"Yes! Well done, you!"
"I only scored a few times," said Bryony. "Your brother's a damn good Keeper."
"Yeah, he is," said Maisie proudly. "I should check he's all right. Owen really nailed him with that Bludger."
"Ah, he'll be fine. He's down there with his team, celebrating."
"Still, I should check. I told Owen to do it."
Bryony laughed. "I didn't realize you were so competitive! A Bludger to the head is brutal!"
"I didn't tell him to hit Oliver in the head!" Maisie protested.
"Well, that's a relief!" Bryony was still laughing. "I was going to tell Oliver to watch out for his life!"
They landed by the goalposts just as Leah touched down.
"That was real close, Maisie. Well done," Leah said.
"Thanks! You had some good saves today."
"Only a couple. Those Gryffindor Chasers are good!"
The Hufflepuff team left the pitch with their arms around each other. They would not be last in the Quidditch Cup that year. It improved their House Cup standing considerably.
Their good mood was shared by all Hufflepuffs; there was a party in the common room when they returned from the showers. When the party died down, it was time for dinner, but nobody was very hungry anymore. They sat at their house table, eagerly discussing the match.
"You were spectacular!" Archie said to Maisie. "Is there any position you can't play?"
"To be honest, I've always thought I was a rubbish Beater," Maisie admitted.
Archie laughed loudly; several Ravenclaws turned to stare. "Oh, that's funny. You, a rubbish Beater!"
"It's true!" Maisie said, but she was drowned out.
Later, as the students were clearing out of the dining hall, someone tapped on Maisie's shoulder. It was Charlie Weasley.
"Hey," said Charlie. "I just wanted to say good job today."
"Oh, thanks," said Maisie. "That's nice of you to say. You, too. You almost got me with that feint."
"No, I mean it," said Charlie earnestly. "I got you once, but you got me three times. I've never seen a Hogwarts player feint like that, and I've never seen anybody anywhere dive like you did. What kind of broom do you ride?"
"A Cleansweep Six."
"You're joking." Charlie shook his head. "Don't go spreading this around, but I really thought you'd get the Snitch after I watched you fly."
"But I didn't."
"It was a near thing, though. When I heard your battle cry, my heart stopped."
"Battle cry?"
"You know, that scream you did at the end. Do you do that often? With that and a Bludger, you'd scare anybody out of their pants."
"Oh." Maisie frowned, trying to remember. "I think I was just…excited. I'd never flown a broom that fast before."
"Well, it gave me pause, and then you almost got the Snitch," Charlie said. "Well done, you. You're Oliver's sister, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"He should be proud of you."
"I'm proud of him."
"As you should be! He's a spanking good Keeper."
"I'll pass on the compliment." Maisie smiled. "Thanks, Charlie. Good game today—really."
"Same to you, of course," said Charlie. "I'll follow your Quidditch career with interest."
Maisie turned bright red.