Bubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble-- A Next-Generation-Harry-Potter Tale.

PART I: Faded

Chapter 14: Rose Weasley, Quiddich Match

Rose Weasley

Quiddich Match

The pitch was cold. I wondered if it would start snowing during the match. Just in case, I put the snow-avoiding charm around my face and broom. I'd be much warmer that way.

I'd been training for this, the first match of Slytherin-Gryffindor, for ages. I'd roped Liz into going outside and hurling Quaffles at the goal hoops. I'd savored every practice, reminding the chasers to try their hardest. I'd secretly loved Darren's training schedules, which were often vigorous and competed with our Potions essays.

I studied the other team as we walked to the center of the field. Scorpius Malfoy was the seeker and the captain. He was tall, pale, and pointed-faced. Most of the Gryffindor pretty much hated him. He was cruel and rather vile both on and off the field. The keeper was Enrico Goyle, a brute of a kid who surprised everyone by actually being smart enough to catch the ball. The chasers were all dirty Slytherin players, Mark something-or-other, Tom something-or other, and Omar something-or-other. The beaters were two lumps called Gregory (Enrico's little brother) Goyle and Norman something-or-other.

I watched as Scorpius and Darren shook hands. Time to start the match.

Madam Pince whistled. All of us kicked off the ground. I headed to the hoops. The chasers positioned themselves near the front. Roxi and Liz took the sides, beaters bats handing limply out of their hands. James hovered a little lower than everyone, watching for the Snitch to come out.

"Let the game begin!" she called, and let all the balls loose. Albus caught the Quaffle and tossed it to Peter while Darren flew halfway down the pitch. Peter threw long, but Omar knocked Darren out of the way roughly and claimed the Quaffle. Darren started muttering under his breath and I could tell he was not saying pleasant things about the Slytherin team.

"And... Slytherin has the Quaffle! Was that dirty play? You complete oaf! Well anyways, Omar's got the Quaffle... nice try, Potter, but Omar's thrown it to Mark... and Mark is slicing down the field only to be blocked by Peter Owen, he's a new player this year but he seems to be quite good. Now Owen's got the quaffle- that's right, show them what you've got! Go Gryffindor... and... oh, he misses! I notice Finnegan conveniently hit her bludger at Goyle just at the same time as the Quaffle, nice move there... Okay, now the Quaffle belongs to Tom, and he's flying down the field... oh, here comes a bludger hit by Roxanne Weasley, and her aim is impeccable... ouch, that's gotta hurt! Anyways, now Darren Wood's got the Quaffle, and that's what matters..." Harper Jordan rambled on. Her commentary was often opinionated, but McGonagall didn't seem to mind enough to find someone else to do the mic. When she was sick or something her twin sister Naomi did it for her, but Naomi was a Hufflepuff and not nearly as much fun.

"Wood takes a shot at the left hoop- marvelous shot, if I do say so myself! Roxanne Weasley hits a beautiful bludger at Goyle, Goyle abandons the Quaffle and ducks the bludger! And it's a score! TEN POINTS FOR GRYFFINDOR!" Harper screeched.

Omar took the Quaffle back to midfield and took off toward our goal. Peter tried to block him, but he swerved left and passed to Tom. Tom took off... he was close to me now- and shot. I had thought he was shooting left, so I dived left, but he shot right. I leaned so far right on my broom so suddenly that I almost plummeted to the ground, but instead I grazed the ball with my knuckles just long enough to punch the Quaffle out of the way!

The Gryffindor crowd roared. "And, with an excellent save by Rose Weasley, Slytherin is denied its ten points! GO GRYFFINDOR! Now Peter Owen's got the Quaffle. And.. what is that? Has Malfoy spotted the Snitch? It appears he has! Don't let him get it, Potter!"

James took off after Scorpius toward the Slytherin goalposts. There was the snitch- I could see it even from here- hovering between the right and center posts. It started to move, slowly for the snitch, to the left... towards Scorpius... and now it darted away to the Hufflepuff stands. James was gaining on Scorpius. Now Roxi positioned herself near a rocketing bludger, aiming at the pale blond head... and fired. I watched as it grazed his forearm. He grunted in pain, but James was unharmed. When it doubled back and came speeding him, he pulled slightly up, until he was directly above Scorpius, and let it zoom by.

And... the snitch was gone.

"And the Snitch has disappeared! What a close call of Gryffindor! The score still stands ten-zero, but now the other Potter has the Quaffle. While all eyes were on Potter and Malfoy, Albus seems to have passed every chaser and beater. It's just him and the keeper now... and HE SCORES! IT'S TWENTY-NONE, WITH GRYFFINDOR IN THE LEAD!" Harper called happily.

In another fifteen minutes, maybe a half-hour, the score was fifty-ten. Slytherin had gotten a goal in when one of the Beater-lumps aimed a bludger at Liz, who ducked, and whose green hair caught my attention while I just missed the Quaffle. "That's all right, Rose... Gryffindor's still in the lead... just a lucky shot for Slytherin. She is a very nice keeper, you know. She seems to have improved over the summer." Harper assured, as Darren took the Quaffle and sped off.

And then the snitch was spotted again. This time it was James who saw it first. He dived low, only a few feet from the grass, arm outstretched and reaching for the snitch. Scorpius cursed and dived in following him, but he dived a little too low. His foot dragged against the ground and his broom was stopped. Cursing furiously, he kicked back off the ground. James was a good ten to twenty feet closer to the Snitch now- and- HIS FINGERS CLOSED AROUND IT!

"HE'S GOT THE SNITCH! POTTER'S GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS, TWO HUNDRED POINTS TO TEN! AND A GREAT GAME!" Harper shouted herself hoarse. I left the goal hoops and flew down to center pitch, where Darren and Malfoy reluctantly shook hands. Malfoy looked furious. The look on his face was absolutely priceless.