James

I am so chuffed with Steve. He's the commentator, you see: he gets to sit in the staff tower, because it has a better view. And because he owed me a favour (silly sod forgot to do his Charms homework), he managed to get me in too. It doesn't hurt that Hagrid is the teacher in charge of monitoring the commentator: he'd never say no to a Potter.

I'm pretty excited. I haven't seen a match since the last Hogwarts final (The first one this year 'clashed' with Nan's funeral). Plus, Chris is playing, which will be...

Well, he's a good chaser. Normally, I'd be supporting Gryffindor (of course) but I figured that friends are more important, so for the first time ever, I'm wearing a Hufflepuff scarf. I feel sorry for them, really. Every other house got the shiny colours (gold, silver, bronze). What do Hufflepuff get? Black. On its own, that wouldn't be so bad. It'd keep the weepers happy, anyway. But whatever possessed the founders to pick yellow as the second colour? I look like a giant bumblebee! Way uncool...

*#*#

Ooh, the players are walking onto the pitch. I can't tell which one is Chris, to be honest. These seats are the tallest in the stands (good during the game, but crappy when everyone is still on the ground). I'll wave anyway.

*#*#

Oh great, now Steve is looking at me funny. He's noticed that me and Chris have been a bit... awkward, I guess. I'm fine when he's not there, or near me or anything, but I get all tongue-tied and bumbling when I see him. I mean, look at me now: waving like a spaz. I think Steve has worked out that something is going on. Most people know that Chris is gay (ok, I know he acts like it's a big secret and all, but come on, like you can keep ANYTHING secret in this place) but they know that I am straight. The straightest of the straight. One of the only guys to have slept with a girl in our year.

But I still like Chris. Odd that. I'm definitely not gay. I haven't ever fancied a bloke until... well, Chris, obviously. And yet I still ogle all the girls. I guess that makes me bisexual. Or greedy, maybe.

*#*#

Oh, wait, I missed the take off. I should pay attention.

*#*#

Wow, Gryffindor are doing well. I know I'm supposed to be supporting Hufflepuff, but whatever. Nice one, Gryffindor...

*#*#

Whoops. Spoke too soon. Chris just saved two goals in a row. I need to ask him for help with my game. I'm not bad, but not in the same league as the house players. If Chris gives me some tips, who knows? Maybe I can make the team. I tried out in my first year. Trying to be like dad. I'd love to say that I was brilliant, obviously, but I wasn't. I crashed into the goalposts and got my first concussion. Ah, good times...

*#*#

"WHOOO!"

YES! 60-30 to Hufflepuff. Smith just scored four goals. She's playing really well. And blimey, quidditch definitely keeps you fit. Not an inch of fat on her. I'd probably quite fancy her if she wasn't a total shrew to talk to. I mean, I know guys are supposed to react well to rejection and sarcasm, but even we have limits. Even on the quidditch pitch, she's a total bitch. Oww... she just kicked the keeper in the shins. I'm glad that Hooch saw. Penalty to Gryffindor. And they... miss. Good save from Chris! And the thing about quidditch keeping you fit definately applies to him...

*#*#

I'm getting kind of bored. They've been playing for two hours already, and no signs of it finishing soon. 200- 120 to Hufflepuff. That's a good score, considering that the snitch is still at large, but there's only so many goals that I can take without realising how mindlessly repetitive it all is. So I'm looking at all the spectators, instead. I can see Rose off to the corner of one stand. She's supporting Hufflepuff too, unlike Al and that muppet Scorpius (god knows why he's supporting Gryffindor- we're not exactly his best mates). Man, she looks so excited. Still. I forgot, but today must be her first Hogwarts Quidditch match. It's a big day for her. That Tanya chick doesn't look too happy though. Almost as bored as I feel. Clever girl. That lot are sat right near the top: a brilliant view. Almost as good as this one. And yet, despite that... I shiver. For a second, I got the impression of... I don't know what? Someone else? But that's not really possible. Nah, I must be mistaken. Looking closer, I can tell that nothing is there. Must be a trick of the light or something.

*#*#

Blimey, Steve is loud when he's commentating. At this rate, I'll be deaf before I'm 30. He's good though. Really captures the excitement of what's going, if you know what I mean. Although he seems to be losing his voice by now. I hope they catch the snitch soon, for his sake.

*#*#

Wait... Povey, the Gryffindor seeker is diving. Has he seen... yeah, I think he has. He's chasing a tiny glint of gold, but Hufflepuff is close on his heels. I've stood up, holding my breath, fists clenched. Barely a sound in the stadium...

Povey is reaching out... his hands inches away... and he... fumbled it?

I flop back into my chair.

Oh dear. I honestly don't know what the the Gryffindor Captain (Andrew Kane, he's called) was thinking when he brought Povey onto the team; he's not a patch on the last guy. Although... I've heard definite rumours that Andrew only did it to get in Povey's dad's good books. He's some bigwig in the ministry, and everyone knows that Kane is headed there next year. It's disgusting. They're diluting the quality of the sport, just to get ahead in work. Quidditch isn't supposed to be about that. It's about grace, good flying, and getting hit in the head by bludgers.

Hang on! Povey missed the snitch, yes, but the Hufflepuff seeker is still hot on its tail! I'm back on my feet, screaming him on, and...

YES! He caught it. About time too.

The fans are spilling onto the pitch to congratulate Hufflepuff. I suppose I should join them. Talk to Chris...

*#*#

Scorpius

Whew, it's mad in here! I've never been in the Hufflepuff common room before. I don't really like them much: too wimpy. Or maybe that's my prejudice showing itself? I don't know. I was never a fan of Chris, that's for sure. Although, to be fair, now that I know he's not cradle-snatching Rose, I can just about tolerate him.

Speaking of Rose, I wish she'd stop congratulating Chris and come and talk with me. I don't know many people here except her, Al and Tanya. But I can't talk to Al because he's... busy, with Tanya. Lucky bastard. They're right by the fire, oddly distorted by a heat haze. The weird shimmering is giving me a headache, so I look away. Where do my eyes land? Rose, of course. She's really confident, so strangers aren't a problem for her. Me? Not so much. Social anxiety. It all stems from my quiet upbringing, I think. At the manor, I only met a few kids my own age, and even then only a few times. Looking back, I know that Mum and Dad were trying to protect me from all the gossips and liars and cruel people that hate me just because of who my grandparents (ok, and my dad) are. But I wasn't exactly prepared for Hogwarts. I was lucky that Rose and Albus came along so soon, but apart from them I haven't really managed to connect with anyone. Tanya is ok, but I think she's scared of me. James hates me, and Chris is too irritating for me to handle.

Oh good, Rose is heading over here. She has a couple of bottles of butterbeer too! Hope one's for me...

Ah, it is. I love the taste. I can still remember my first ever bottle... aged seven. Thank Merlin for relaxed alcohol laws, that's all I can say. Butterbeer's so sweet, the actual alcohol is barely noticeable. Not like Fire whisky. I tried that once (stole it from my dad's private stash) but it burned my throat. Nah, I'll just drink butterbeer. Speaking of which... my bottle is empty. That was fast. But already there's the fuzziness about my vision. I'm not drunk –like Butterbeer is strong enough- but pleasantly... tipsy, I think it's called. It feels really good, and everywhere I look, things seem happier, brighter, warmer. Rose has never looked prettier.

Speaking of Rose, she's looking at me funny. I can't help giggling, and she appears even more perplexed. I motion at her to finish her bottle- everyone should feel like this- but she obviously disagrees and sets it down. Spoil sport. But I'd better not waste it. If she doesn't want it then I certainly do.

Wow. That bottle is gone too. This stuff tastes really good. I think I'll get another...

*#*#

It's what, three hours since we went to the celebration party? I'm not that sure actually, all I know is that my collection of empty bottles is groowwwiinngg. I wonder were Rose is. I'd look for her, but I can't seem to stand up, ha ha. Oh well. I like it here. I'm near the fire, so it's all warm and comfy. Actually, the heat is making me kind of tired. I think I'll just close my eyes...