Brite and early on saturday morn eccentric but kindly headmaster DUMBLEDOR take his rawhide whip and drive all tiny pupils out onto the sports feild where our knees and noses turn blue and not by menes of magic. For toda is the house QUIDDITCH match, huflepuf (13:1) v. slytherin (evens). i am lurking in my ushual spot on the touchline shouting at the slytherin seker yar boo couldn't find a quaffle at ten paces when Madam hooch, who like all p.e. teachers is fritefully KEEN my dere, stride up.
"Come along molesworth one get craking get craking huflepuf is a beater short and its all hands to the PUMP."
Chiz chiz i could not hit a flea and all will jeer at my misfortune. With trembling legs i mount ancient creaky broomstick. Of corse slytherin team all hav rich paters and are riding NIMBUS 2000 (pat. pend.). The whistle blo and my doom is sealed. slytherin plaers who are all six foot six including the gurls fli onto the pitch chanting ra ra get em men take no prisoners and its over to fotherington-tomas in the comentery box.
FOTHERINGTON-T: Hullo clouds, hullo bludgers, hullo professer quirrell's turban. huflepuf start from centre CRASH WALLOP and now slytherin are in posession. captain GRABBER hav the pill and it can only be a matter of time before he score ZOOM ten nil to slytherin and the crowd cri boo hiss. Within minutes WAMMO grabber hav scored nine more goals POW ZAP and things are looking black for huflepuf. But lo! late sub n. molesworth seme to hav spotted something at the far end. it look like the golden SNITCH. Can the match be saved by a meer beater? He swoop - he make a grab - oh dear me how unfortunate, he hav split his trousis. Other plaers fall off there brooms and roll about clutching there sides howling with cruel larffter. madam Hooch blo her whistle in atempt to restore order but to no avail alas. gillibrand (ravenclaw) is shouting look at ickle baby he still wear combinations. How uncouth BOYS are to be sure ect ect.
i wake in a cold sweat my hart hammering in my puny chest. But it is only a few moments before i slip back into fitfull slumber...