A/N: Jordan says a VERY bad word in this, and as I had this listed as PG-13, I decided to change it to a blank. You get the gist of it, though.

Andrew's stomach churned. His first Quidditch match! He had just been recruited this year, as a Chaser. They were playing against Gryffindor. Oh, God, oh God.
Dustin Butler, the smallest boy on the team (surprisingly, he was a Chaser instead of a Seeker), peeked out at the crowd. "Blimey!" He exclaimed, "The whole school's out there!"
'What's your problem? Afraid of a crowd?" Asked Draco cooly, but Andrew realized he was probably nervous. Slytherins didn't show their emotions. Well, Dustin was an exception.
"Shut up, Malfoy," retorted Dustin, reddening.
"Oooh, good comeback!" cried one of the Beaters, named Bole.
"SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!" Hollered Andrew. "If you get into a fight and hurt each other, we'll have to forfeit! We'll lose the Cup!"
"Chicken," someone mutter dismissively, but everyone shut up.
"Aaand here's the Slytherin team!" cried Lee Jordan's voice from outside. Lee Jordan traditionally commentated, even though he was too old to go to Hogwarts anymore. Living close by, he still came for Quidditch matches.
Grabbing his Nimbus 2001, he marched onto the field, heart thumping. Jordan's called out their names through his magic megaphone. " . . . Thayer, Butler, Hupp, Warrington, and Malllfffooy! Looks like they're going brawn over brain as usual! Hey I didn't mean it, Professor, I promise."
"Mount your broomsticks!" called Madam Hooch.
"And they're offf!" Lee screamed happily. "Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle–no, wait, Gryffindor–and back to Slytherin! Hupp of Slytherin possession!"
Andrew sped towards the goal posts. He was almost there! He took aim and–BANG! A Bludger hit him from behind. He dropped the Quaffle.
Angrily, he glanced around. Where was Jeanne? There she was, flirting with the Gryffindor Beater. Furious, he turned his attention back to the game.
"Gryffindor in possession and–SCORE!" Lee whooped. A earsplitting roar burst from the Gryffindor crowd.
Suddenly, Harry Potter, the Gryffindor Seeker, zoomed past him at nothing less then 150 MPH. "Blimey!" he shouted, annoyed. "Watch where you're going, you nearly took my ear off!" Draco followed Harry, nearly taking off his other ear.
"Has Potter seen the Snitch?" Lee asked himself excitedly, watching Potter and Draco eagerly. "Oh . . . it's just a Wronski Feint. Didn't kill that Malfoy boy, either. A shame."
Professor McGonagall, agreeing, didn't say anything.
Gathering himself, he raced over to the Quaffle, which was sinking slowly in midair. The Gryffindor Chaser had dropped it when Jeanne and Warrington attacked him simultaneously–right in the face, too.
Dustin reached the Quaffle first. "Oy, Warrington!" He cried, zooming towards the goal with Warrington following. The Gryffindor Beaters closed in on him. "Catch!" But instead of throwing it to Warrington, he tossed it below to Andrew instead.
Thankful Dustin had let him get a bit of spotlight in his first match, he flew the rest of the way to the Gryffindor goal posts. He easily got past the Keeper, and--"
"Goal to Slytherin!" Lee Jordan fumed. "First one of those I've seen in awhile, the Slytherin team plays like Kindergartners,"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor,"
Andrew felt something run into his head. It was too small to be a Bludger–"Snitchnip!" called Madam Hooch, the referee.
"That was accidental!" He protested.
"Sorry," she said, not looking very sorry, "Penalty to Gryffindor!" She called, as the Snitch disappeared again.
As the Gryffindor team took the penalty, Andrew wondered if the Snitch could be favoring the Gryffindor side.
"TWENTY TO TEN!" Lee yelled happily, as the Chaser made it past the Slytherin Keeper. "_____ Slytherins!"
"JORDAN!"
There was a prompt fight. Lee got the mike for a second, and had time to yell, "Harry's gotten the Snitch! 170 to ten!" Before McGonagall wrestled the megaphone from his grasp.

After the match, he changed into his regular robes and started to walk towards the castle. Noticing some lingerers on the field, he did a double take and looked to see if Draco happened to be there.
Draco wasn't, but a pretty girl was. What was her name again? Oh, yeah, Cho Chang. She played for Ravenclaw as Seeker. He sighed as he saw Potter was flirting with her. The good ones were always taken.
The other denizen of the field was another girl, not nearly as pretty. She watched Potter and Chang a little way off, looking lonely.
He walked onto the field. "What's the matter?"
She jumped. "Oh! Oh . . . nothing,"
"Something is,"
She looked at him funny. "Aren't you in Slytherin?"
"Yeah,"
"Then why do you care what's bothering me?"
"I–erm–well, I really should be in another house. I wanted to be in Slytherin so badly, though. So that's where the Sorting Hat put me. It . . . er, it wanted to put me in Gryffindor," he blushed down to the roots of his hair.
"You act like that's a bad thing," said the girl, looking slightly hurt.
"Draco–do you know Draco?–he said Gryffindor was the worst house, like worse than Hufflepuff,"
"Yes, I do know Draco," her eyes flashed. "I know him very well."
He expected her to continue, but she didn't. The silence lasted a full minute or so.
"Do you want to walk around the lake?" He burst suddenly, to break the quiet.
"Oh! Oh . . . sure," she said, pointedly turning to leave. Pointedly, Potter concentrated on talking to Cho.
He glanced between them, amused, but didn't say anything.
They walked around the lake for awhile, in silence.
Andrew stared at the lake for a bit. "Do you know Peony Mowbray?" he asked suddenly.
This is the reason the lake made him think of Peony Mowbray.