Sammy never had to call that timeout. With MJ, Derek and the brand new brooms, the Raiders were creaming the Welsh Wingers. The Wingers had been studying film of the Raiders on their old brooms, and they had never seen MJ fly before. The Raiders were a bit undersized and unorganized, but their lightning speed overwhelmed the stodgy Wingers, slicing and dicing them for score after score.
But Jerry faced a problem. The seeker for the Wingers was the best he had ever seen. They had been jockeying back and forth for position as they tailed the snitch. About an hour into the match, Jerry was finally overtaking the opposing seeker.
They rounded a corner and Jerry was within arm's reach of the snitch. As his fingertips grazed the golden snitch, the opposing seeker slammed into Jerry with the force of the Whomping Willow. The hit knocked Jerry off his broom. He nearly plummeted to his death, but his left hand held onto the shaft.
Jerry's body dangled beneath his broom, but he was still hurtling toward the snitch. He reached out again with his free hand. The opposing seeker, in disbelief, grabbed onto Jerry's jersey robes. When he tried to pull Jerry back, the jersey robe tore away, leaving Jerry completely nude as he pulled off the most amazing snitch grab of all time.
A flashbulb went off as Jerry closed his grip, and the picture of his victorious catch instantly went wizard viral. There was Jerry, naked in all his glory. One hand on the broom, one hand on the snitch. A smile on his face and a lightning scar on his ass.
"Shades McCallister Bares All as Raiders Win Quidditch Semifinals," read the headline in The Daily Prophet, which ran the full photo on its front page.
That picture instantly cemented the Raiders as the darlings of the quidditch world. They were the ultimate Cinderella story. There were a dozen wizarding outlets trying to get an interview with MJ, who was singlehandedly redeeming the Malfoy name. Dozens more were interested in talking with the mysterious Shades McCallister. But Jerry declined all the interviews, and Sammy, as coach, handled the press conference.
"Shut up, sit down," she told one reporter. "Your hat is dumb, and you should feel bad. Of course we're gonna win the championship. We are the greatest quidditch team of all time. Now, what was your question?"
MJ, for the first time ever, seemed proud of his last name. Jerry, on the other hand, appreciated his anonymity. He was under enough pressure. The last thing he needed was the press knowing who he really was. The photo of him catching the snitch was harmless, he thought, maybe a bit cheeky.
There were only a few people in the world who would know the true identity of Shades McCallister if they saw the picture on the front of The Daily Prophet. And one of them happened to pick up the paper the next morning.