The first Quidditch match of the season was Gryffindor against Slytherin. It had approached quickly, and the rivalry between the two houses seemed to have doubled overnight.

Part of it, of course, could be attributed to the match. There was also the fact that the Slytherins had been unable to get into their common room for almost a day, courtesy of the Marauders.

The week of the match began with James being hexed while walking to Potions. This had resulted in James sprouting leeks from his ears, and Barty Crouch being hung up on one of the torch brackets with blue skin by an angry Sirius. Following this was a set of detentions from McGonagall for both Sirius and Crouch.

Thursday, on the way back from practice, Hallie Klosse was ambushed, and left the encounter with a blue, forked tongue.

The Gryffindor team weren't the only ones being hexed, though. Walden Macnair, the burly seventh year beater, went to the Hospital Wing to have Madam Pomfrey remove a large number of puss oozing boils from various parts of his body. Their seeker was also seen running through the corridors in that direction, shouting about his hair, which had been hexed to writhe around like snakes.

Then there were all of the Gryffindors and Slytherins who, despite not being part of either Quidditch team, decided that the upcoming match was an excellent excuse to hex each other. Between Monday and Friday, Madam Pomfrey saw a total of thirty seven Gryffindors and twenty nine Slytherins that needed to have hexes removed.

All in all, it was not a good week for either house.

Everyone seemed to be relieved when dinner ended on Friday, marking the beginning of the weekend.

The next morning, the school was down at breakfast early. The match was set to start at nine, and no one was planning on missing it.

The Marauders had barely started breakfast when Hallie came up to James.

"The team has to be at the pitch in twenty minutes," she said. "I'm going to check conditions now."

"But I just started eating!" James complained as she walked away. "How am I supposed to have a decent breakfast in fifteen minutes?"

"Maybe by not talking," Remus offered.

"That would be an improvement," Lily said. She had taken a seat next to Remus and across from Marlene.

"Oi! My talking is brilliant," James said.

"Sixty percent of the time," Remus said. "Forty percent is quite a bit of non-brilliant talking."

"I don't know what you mean. At least ninety percent of my talking is brilliant," James said stubbornly. "Right, Sirius?"

"Yeah," Sirius said sagely, "but not quite as brilliant as mine."

"You and Potter are at about the same place," Lily said, rolling her eyes.

"It's okay that you can't recognize intelligence, Evans," Sirius said sincerely. "You'd have to have some to do that."

"She has a bit more intelligence that you two combined at times, I think," Remus said dryly.

"You don't know what you're talking about. McKinnon, pass the rolls."

Marlene passed the rolls, then turned to talk with Alice.

James had left only a few minutes later to head down to the pitch. Not long after he had gone, Frank Longbottom hurried over to where Sirius, Peter, and Remus were seated.

"Oi! Black!"

Sirius turned. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it."

"It's not about something you did," Frank said. "Unless you're planning something, in which case I'd like to ask you to leave me out of it."

"No guarantees," Sirius said. "But if you're not here to accuse me of something, what are you here to do?"

"I need someone to sub for me at the match," Frank said. "I've already talked to McGonagall- she said that it's fine, so long as you focus on the match don't go on about who's snogging who. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, I just want to finish breakfast first."

"You don't have time- you've got to be down there in a few minutes."

"Alri- a few minutes?"

Frank was already leaving the Great Hall.

"You have more time than James did," Remus pointed out.

Sirius muttered something under his breath, shoveled down what was left on his plate, and then ran out of the hall.

"Do you think he'll make it?" Peter asked.

Remus shrugged. "Probably not. We should probably finish up and head down, though. The game should be starting in just a few minutes, and it'll go on whether it's got a commentator or not."

Peter nodded.

Down at the pitch, the Gryffindor team, clad in their scarlet robes, were huddled in the changing rooms for their pregame talk.

"Alright. This is going to be a bit of a challenging game," Hallie said. "Their Beaters are really strong this yea- Macnair is new, and then some new bloke, Goyle, is taking over Keeper, Highland is Seeker now. Macnair is on the team, too. Same Chasers. I think that we'll be able to pull it off, regardless of who's new; if they're new, they likely haven't been flying for quite as long. Remember what we've been working on. They haven't been practicing to face us this year- they're going based off of last year. Ready?"

The team gave a collective nod.

"Let's go, then."

They entered out onto the pitch to a thunder of applause.

About two thirds of the stands were filled with scarlet and gold attire. The other third sported bright emerald green and dark silver.

Across the pitch, the Slytherin team was striving towards them. They met in the middle, waiting for some sort of introduction. None came.

They stood there for a minute or so before Madam Hooch finally instructed the captains to shake hands.

Hallie and Nott shook, each looking as though they were trying to break the others fingers.

"Mount your brooms," Hooch said.

The two teams mounted their brooms.

Hooch let the snitch loose, then raised her whistle, when-

"Alright! Welcome to our first Quidditch match this season!"

James glanced up to see Sirius in the commentators box, looking slightly out of breath.

"Playing for Slytherin, we've got Nott, Rosier, Bulstrode, Cox, Macnair, Goyle, and Highland."

There was a roar of approval from the Slytherin section.

Sirius continued, now sounding more enthusiastic, "For Gryffindor, we have Klosse, Potter, Liecht, Albatram, Finley, Rowsey, and Ominer!"

There was another roar, this time from the Gryffindor supporters.

"Captains, shake hands!"

"They've already done that, which you would know if you had been on time," McGonagall said.

"He didn't tell me I was commentating until five minutes ago!" Sirius protested.

"That match, Mr. Black," McGonagall sighed.

"Right you are, Minnie."

There was a shrill sound as Hooch blew her whistle.

The players shot off into the air.

"And they're off! It's Potter with the Quaffle, he passes to Liecht, Leicht to- wait, no, it's been stolen by Bulstrode, Bulstrode to Nott, Nott to Rosier. They're heading for the goalposts Rosier throws- yes! Saved by Maria Rowsey of Gryffindor! She's thrown it to Klosse, Gryffindor in possession..."

The Chasers sped down the pitch towards the Slytherin goalposts.

Hallie passed the Quaffle to James.

He caught it, nearly slamming into one of the Slytherin Chasers.

"Oi!" Nott said. "Watch it!"

James didn't reply, he passed the ball to Lucas.

"Little bit of background on the Slytherin Keeper while the Chasers are making their way up the pitch," Sirius said. "This is Goyle's first year on the team. He's also been failing D.A.D.A for the entirety of his six years at Hogwarts. That can be expected, though, for someone with less than three brain cells."

There were a few laughs from the Gryffindor section. McGonagall, however, was unimpressed.

"Mr. Black, that was completely unnecessary! Control yourself, or you will not be able to comment on any further games!"

Sirius grinned cheekily. "Sorry, Minnie. Just seemed like a need to know fact. Back to the game. It's Leicht with the ball, he's going for the shot!"

Lucas threw the ball through the right hoop.

"He scores! Guess you need brain cells to play Keeper, too. Ten to zero for Gryffindor!"

"Mr. Black, I'm warning you-"

"Right. Rosier with the Quaffle, Nott, Rosier, Nott, Rosier, Nott again. They must not like Bulstrode, he hasn't had the ball yet. Nevermind, he's got it now. They're almost there, come on, James, steal!"

James was right next to Nott.

Nott raised his arm to throw back to Rosier.

He lunged for the Quaffle, missing by barely a quarter of an inch.

Rosier caught the ball, then whirled around to throw it to Bulstrode.

There was a crack as a bludger collided with Bulstrode's extended arm.

"Great bludger work by Finley- it's too bad that this is his last year, he's really improved since his first year on the team. There was the one time when-"

"Mr. Black, this is your last warning!"

Sirius went back to the match. "Liecht with the Quaffle, he passes to Klosse, Liecht, Potter, Klosse, Potter, Leicht, Klosse, she throws- bugger!"

This time, Goyle managed to block it.

The Slytherin Chasers began speeding back to the Gryffindor goalposts.

Bulstrode passed it to Rosier, then Rosier to Nott, Nott back to Rosier, Rosier threw it towards the center hoop-

James groaned.

"Ten to ten, now." Sirius did not sound happy. "Gryffindor in possession, heading to try and reclaim their lead."

The match went on, back and forth between the teams. Neither seemed to be able to get much of a lead on the other, nor did the seekers seem to be able to find the Snitch.

"One hundred ten, Gryffindor, and one hundred for Slytherin! Gryffindor is pulling ahead again! Bulstrode to Nott, Nott to- stolen by Potter of Gryffindor, he passes to Leicht, to Klosse, and back to Potter again-"

James had the Quaffle gripped tightly under one arm as he flew down the pitch. He was only twenty yards away from the hoops when something whizzed last his ear.

"Cox hits a bludger towards Potter and misses. That's okay, though, Cox. I can tell you've been practicing instead of snogging. It's always good to see improvement."

Cox shouted something at Sirius, making a rude sign towards the box.

Sirius returned it.

"That's enough, Mr. Black. You're out."

Sirius turned to McGonagall. "What?"

"You're out. Longbottom will have to find another person to sub for him when he is unable to commentate the games from here on out."

"But Minnie! I'm just making it interesting!"

McGonagall gave him a stern look. "However, seeing as there is no one here to take your place, you may finish the match."

"But-"

"The match, Mr. Black."

"Okay. Well, it's Potter with the Quaffle, Leicht, Klosse, Leicht, Klosse, Potter…. He throws and scores! Nice one, James! Slytherin in possession, Rosier to Bulstrode, Bulstrode to Nott- nevermind them, Ominer and Highland have seen the snitch!"

Andrew and Highland were racing towards the Slytherin goalposts towards a tiny fleck of gold.

James didn't watch; Nott had stopped to glance at the seekers and wasn't paying attention. The Quaffle was poised to be thrown, but hadn't been yet.

He got there in time to snatch the Quaffle from Nott, speeding towards the hoops as Nott chased after him.

Lucas and Hallie followed, tailed closely by Bulstrode and Rosier.

James threw the ball to Lucas.

There was a loud crack. Someone had been hit by a bludger.

James didn't stop to see what it was, they were halfway to the hoops.

"Ominer's been hit by Macnair, giving Highland the lead, he's almost to the snitch, come on, Ominer!"

Andrew's left arm was limp as he hurried to catch up with the Slytherin seeker. They were neck and neck. Andrew began to pull forward. They extended their arms, and then-

"He's done it!" Sirius exclaimed. "Ominer's done it, he caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins, two hundred seventy to one hundred Slytherin! Take that, you bloody-"

McGonagall tugged the microphone away from him.