It's 11:00 A.M. on a Saturday, and it's time for another Quidditch match. It's a sunny day with no wind. Madam Hooch releases us and we go our separate ways.
In moments, everyone is up in the air at the same height as the goal hoops. As usual, everyone is crowding around the Quaffle, trying to use it to score. The Golden Snitch, worth 15 times as many points as the Quaffle, has already disappeared.
That leaves us, the necessary evil, put here to make the game more difficult. I envy the Quaffle and Snitch. Everyone loves them and wants to get a hold of them, while we are abhorred, avoided except by the Beaters, whose job it is to whack us around. So we do what we were meant to do and hit the players, almost as much for attention as because it's our job.
The players are wearing red and green robes – it's another Gryffindor/Slytherin game. Those are the best kind; the Slytherins have bad attitudes like us Bludgers, and the Gryffindors are as brave as they are reputed to be. This is the last match of the season, too, so we know it's going to be good.
Following the crowd, I try to hit the Gryffindor girl who has the Quaffle. She ducks under me and scores. Seconds later, people collide and both sides take penalty shots. Gryffindor scores again.
There is another collision, another penalty. Oh – here come the Slytherin Beaters, I think they want to play hardball with us – yes – YES – oh, almost hit the Gryffindor Seeker! The Seeker gets away and the Beaters slam into each other.
Those two were about to beat on the Seeker after beating us. We hardly felt it, but the Seeker would have. It's disappointing when we fail to hit people. Our only happiness lies in inflicting pain.
Look at this game. The players, especially the Slytherins, are being unscrupulous and violent, like us. At last, we can identify with them. A Slytherin just hit one of the Gryffindor girls and tried to say he mistook her for a Bludger. Preposterous!
The score is now 50-10, Gryffindor leading. Those Slytherin Beaters decide to use the Bludgers again, this time against Gryffindor's Keeper. We hit him right in the stomach and knock the wind out of him. The referee says that was illegal, but we don't care – it was our most fulfilling moment in ages. I don't take sides, of course; I just like to hit people.
After the penalty shot, the tables turn slightly and I am used against a Slytherin, allowing Gryffindor to score again. 70-10. What next? Maybe the Gryffindors will start attacking the Slytherins?
Oh, my. How those Seekers oppose each other. One has actually grabbed the other's broom, and the Snitch has gotten away again. So much the better; the longer this game goes on, the happier I'll be.
Slytherin scores again. 70-20. Gryffindor is in possession, but the Slytherins aren't going to let them score – HOLY CRUD! The Gryffindor Seeker knocked them out of the way, and Gryffindor scored again. 80-20.
Oh – the Snitch – Slytherin's going to win – here comes the Gryffindor Seeker – that little human being is out of his mind – they're side by side – there goes the other Bludger – HE DID IT! IT'S ALL OVER! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE CUP!
So, Slytherin's been beaten, and they're sad. When we are beaten, we're usually happy. We like that; it's the one way we can claim to have it better than them.
The stadium slowly clears. Down on the ground, the Gryffindor
team proudly holds the Quidditch cup. Madam Hooch flies up with the
crate for the Quidditch balls, catches us, and straps us into it.
Great game, everyone.
Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling. The
quote about "that little human being…" is from The Phantom Menace, so it
belongs to Lucasfilm Ltd. No money is being made off this; I write
because it's fun. :-)