Chapter Eleven: Grandmador Versus Slummin
The next morning dawned bright and early, and so happened to be the day of the first Skeedditch match: Grandmador versus Slummin. Harry was awoken by an eerie ethereal singing in his ear.
"Sweetly down the roads we go,
Thro' paths entwined in mist
Into thy throat my spear shall probe -"
Harry opened his eyes and sat up as fast as he could. Next to him was a giggling Schwoodde wearing a purple wig. He leapt out of bed and cleared the floor by ten feet.
"Gets them up every time," Schwoodde sniggered.
At the breakfast table, Rhon was trying to force pickles and anchovies onto Harry's plate. "Come on, Potter. Eat up."
"I don't even like pickles."
"Your face is a pickle!" retorted Rhon, miffed.
Unfortunately, as he uttered these words he was holding his wand, and Harry's head promptly turned into a large green gherkin.
"Darn..." muttered Rhon." Sorry, mate."
"!!#&," said Harry.
The Skeedditch match was starting up. Everyone was hyped. The Grandmador house towers were garbed in old dressing gowns, knitting needles and false teeth. "Gwanmadauh!" they yelled.
The Slummin students were covered in green slime. No-one quite knew why.
Then it was time for the players to fly out.
"Schwoodde!"
"Jolie!"
"Ding-a-ling!"
"Spinny!"
"Weasley!"
"Looooord Stumpy!"
"Potter!"
A pickle-headed red-robed player flew out, to many cheers of "Gwanma dauh!!"
It was certainly going to be an interesting match.
And so they lifted into the air on their hoovers and blasted off into the stratosphere.
The balls were released. The bowling balls zoomed left, and the flying pickle zoomed left. Then Darko zoomed past.
Down in the Grandmador tower, Hermitwo perked up. "Wha? Isn't that from a different book?"
"Hmf?" asked Rhon, his mouth stuffed with pumpkin dog.
"Darko is the Slummin seeker!"
"Ohmf."
"Don't stick so much pumpkin dog in your mouth, Rhon."
"Fmckym."
Harry the Pickle zoomed through the air, oblivious to the game. His brain was filled with gherkin-related thoughts.
"Ahahahaha, Potter, you're a pickle!" scream Darko, as he hurtled past on his flying vacuum cleaner.
"!#&!" Harry replied.
Darko waved his wand and Harry's head returned to normal. "Ha, you're even uglier than before!" Darko cackled. "Did you see that? I implied you are REGULARLY ugly, even more than when you're a pickle."
"Darko, you're a tool."
"Daddy will hear about this!"
Harry kicked Darko's exhaust pipe in, and his vacuum exploded, sending him ricocheting into the Slummin stands.
Suddenly (due to an author's need to finish this chapter), Harry saw a glint of gold hovering over Rhon's head in the stands.
"FREAKING THE FREAKING GOLDEN FREAKING SNITCH FREAKING!" Harry screamed, and hurtled towards Rhon.
"OMG!" Hermitwo yelped. "Duck!"
"Hmmm?" asked Rhon. "I don't see a-"
KLABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM. Lots of splintering glass, shattered wood and flying cushion stuffing settled down on the pitch.
Rhon's head was stuck in a concrete wall. "Mmmphf," he said.
Harry stood up, cheering.
"Harry, where's the snitch?" Hermitwo asked worriedly.
"I swallowed it."
"Eeeeeeeeew."
Harry looked down at his stomach, where the Snitch was slowly digesting with his anchovies. "It's...still fluttering..."
"Mmmph. Mmphmpphhhhhgargpumpkindog." It was Rhon who uttered this as his head was yanked out of the brick wall.
Harry's Nimbus suddenly started bucking on the ground next to him. He stared at it until it stopped.
"It's a curse," said Hermitwo wisely. "They tend to lag, you know, whenever there is an excess of oil about. Now who could that be?"
"Oh…SNAP!" yelled Rhon.
"That's not even a proper comeback, you twerp."
"No...I mean, Professor Snap! It must've been him who cursed Harry's broomstick! Only...he was a tad too late..."
Harry's brow lowered...his eyes turned darker, and he brought his head further down his chest as he went into a deep, ominous concentration. A dark fog began to form around him.
Hermitwo and Rhon backed away.
"Why else would he try to murder me? Unless...yes...but no...That's impossible..."
Unable to bear the tension, Hermitwo cried, "What, Harry!? Why would anyone want to kill you?!"
He turned to her with a black look on his face. "If," he growled, "they wanted to inherit my mother's second-hand spoon collection."
"Oh no!" cried Hermitwo in horror. "That spoon collection is priceless!"
Professor Snap hurried up to them. Harry noticed that there was a gash on his leg. He also noticed that Snap was wearing an enormous t-shirt with I TOOK ON A THREE HEADED GUARD DOG AS I ATTEMPTED TO STOP SQUIRREL FROM STEALING THE MAGICKY ITEM OF DOOM AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT written on it.
"Huh, I wonder where he's been?" Hermitwo said coldly.
"Dear me, Potter, smashing your hoover into the ground and injuring your friend!" Snap chuckled evilly. "Let me just look under the rule book- ah, yes, for that kind of offence, I subtract from Grandmador ONE ZILLION POINTS!"
Rhon blinked. "There's no such thing as a zillion."
"Isn't there? Oh, well, then, I subtract TWENTY POINTS from Grandmador. Carry on!"
He trundled off happily. Harry and Rhon went off to have a game of Tetris to calm their nerves.
