Chapter 12

In the stands overlooking the quidditch pitch, Pansy and Blaise pushed their way through the crowd of howling Slytherins to get the best seats near the front, Pansy needed these seats if she was going to lead the chant.

"Out of my way," barked Blaise at a third year before turning round to Pansy and mumbling, "Cheeky little bastards."

Pansy snorted at his remark, he truly was a golden example of all things slytherin- it made her proud to be his friend.

"Don't you dare touch me you cretin!" He shouted at someone Pansy couldn't see. "That kid just went to bite me, bloody creep."

"Let's try and make it to our seats with all of our limbs please, Zabini." She joked.

They wrestled their way towards their seats and could see the pitch perfectly; both the Slyrherin and Gryffindor teams had just marched onto the pitch for the captains to shake hands. Pansy couldn't make out all of the players on the apposing team- there was little scrawny Potter and then the red headed Weasleys stood out like a sore thumb, but she had no clue about the rest. In all fairness she could barely make out who was who on the Slytherin team!

Flint was the one in front (but she only knew that because he was shaking hands with the other captain,) she couldn't tell the difference between the two beaters- Crabbe and Goyle looked like identical green quaffles from this distance!

So it annoyed her greatly when she easily recognised him.

She told herself it was his hair that stood out, or his broomstick or his cocky walk, but it was none of those things- all of the players' hair looked the same colour and their walks were all stunted by having to carry their broomsticks.

She could tell which one he was and she had no idea how she knew; things like this made it impossible for her to deny her feelings to herself.

"What?" Blaise asked all of a sudden, this took Pansy by surprise as she was deep in thought.

"Woah don't jump out of youre skin." He reassured her, when she gave him a confused look he continued. "You sighed... like really loudly."

"Oh, I hadn't even realised." She hoped she wasn't going red. "I'm surprised you heard me over all this racket." She gestured to the Slytherins behind her.

"Yeah, but you need to make it much louder than this?" he smirked.

She returned the gesture and laughed, "But not yet, we've got to wait till Weasley misses."

"...THE QUAFFEL IS RELEASED... AND THE GAME BEGINS!" roared the commentator as the balls began soaring around the sky. The players, now airborne, began dodging and diving around each other; all with their own agenda to accomplish.

The crowds in the stands were buzzing with anticipation and excitement and Pansy could feel the community spirit of her fellow Slytherins as they all cheered and encouraged their team on. Pansy thought this was the best part of quidditch, the way it brought out Slytherins competitiveness also brought out the best in them; the anticipation that highlighted the element of doubt they had in themselves- that Slytherin doesn't think it will win no matter what, Slytherin isn't being big-headed, it is to be ruthless and committed as well as compassionate and encouraging.

No one outside of the house would ever understand the pride that came with being a Slytherin- the love of belonging to the house most unloved. Pansy cherished her house with dignified respect, she cherished these moments when she felt part of a community and loved it! She couldn't imagine feeling this way in any other house, Slytherin was her family...

"GO DRACO BABY GO!" screamed Astoria from somewhere behind Pansy.

...and you can't choose your family, she mumbled internally and focused on watching the game to drown out Astoria's high pitched cheer.

It wasn't long before Slytherin scored the first point... and a second... and a third and 'Weasley is our King' was well underway.

"...HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN

THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING

WEASLEY IS OUR KING..."

Pansy stood with her back to the pitch conducting the chorus, she had been worried of having so much attention on her, as she was not used to it, but most people got the gist of the chant pretty quickly and had continued to watch the game whilst singing. However, Pansy didn't move back to her seat- she felt empowered and responsible as if she were actually playing the game. She could hear the commentator announcing goal after goal and she couldn't help but think that the chant had something to do with it.

"ANOTHER GOAL TO SLYTHERIN!"

"HE CANNOT BLOCK A SINGLE RING..."

"AND HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, GRYFFINDOR WINS BY 10 POINTS!" boomed the commentator although his words were drowned out by the cheering from the rest of the stadium.

"Unlucky." Pansy heard Blaise mutter beside her, "One more goal and we would have won that, even with Potter catching the snitch. Did Malfoy even see it?"

But Pansy wasn't listening to him; instead her attention was on the cluster of players forming on the stadium ground. She saw Potter and the Weasley twins' posture straighten up- as if someone had struck a nerve with them.

Without even seeing Malfoy she knew what was happening.

Oh, Salazar!

Within seconds the twins had charged the Slytherin seeker and had pinned him to the ground whilst Potter kicked him before proceeding to sit onto of him and punch him several times.

"MALFOY!" Pansy knew that would do no good but she couldn't help it, it was physically painful for her to witness.

Is no one else seeing this? She panicked looking round at the crowds who seemed oblivious to the assault happening below them. Get yourself together Pansy the boy you love needs your help!

She scanned the stand for anybody who could help, "PROFESSOR UMBRIDGE!" she screamed when she noticed the plump woman sat several benches across. "PROFESSOR, PLEASE."

She caught the woman's attention and pointed down at the pitch. "HELP HIM!"