The weekend right after the new Quidditch teams were formed, the first
Quidditch matches were held.
"Rather early start this year," Ron said to Harry during Divination. Professor Trelawney overheard and glided over to them.
"I can tell you why the Quidditch season is starting early," she said in her soft, wavering voice that usually annoyed Harry, but now made him curious.
"How would you know?" Ron asked insolently, forgetting his manners. Professor Trelawney was piqued.
"The cards will tell you," she said brusquely. She pointed to Ron's Tarot cards, lying on the table. "Go on. Shuffle and deal them out."
Ron obeyed, rather nervously because he had to keep glancing at his textbook to see how the cards should be arranged. Professor Trelawney waited. Ron finished placing the cards and peered at them. "Er."
"Look!" Professor Trelawney said, losing her patience again. She pointed at the cards. "The High Priestess! The Hermit! The Two of Swords reinforcing the Moon! What are they saying to you?"
Ron blanched. Seeing this, Professor Trelawney rolled her eyes. "It means an early and extremely cold winter, Mr. Weasley. Now I will ask you both not to discuss sports in class, and concentrate instead on Divination, the skills of which you are both sorely lacking!" She swept away.
All the teams practised themselves half to death because they were all infected with an ardent desire to take the Quidditch Cup, which last year had remained silently in the trophy room. No one would miss a practise or not give themselves over wholly to the game, not under the strict regime of this year's four determined captains.
Alicia Spinnet proved to be an excellent leader for the Gryffindor team. She was fiercely committed to the game and was trying hard not to follow after Oliver Wood too much. She had a tendency to overwork herself, though.
"It's horribly difficult being captain," she said breathlessly over breakfast on Saturday. She had dark circles under her eyes, because, as she explained, she had to stay up all night to finish her homework and plan out Quidditch tactics. She hadn't slept a wink in two days.
"It's not a war, Alicia," George Weasley said, amazed. "You're not the Viscount Wellington! It's just Quidditch. You're working yourself too hard."
"But I want us to win!" Alicia exclaimed petulantly. "I've convinced myself that if I plan everything now, there'll be less to do later."
"It makes sense in theory," Fred Weasley admitted.
"So does Communism," retorted George, "and don't you remember how that turned out for Russia?"
"Brace yourself, here comes Malfoy," Harry said to Ron. "Slytherin are playing Hufflepuff today, he's probably coming to have one more ridicule for good luck."
"Well, Weasley, you've finally gotten on your house team," sneered Malfoy, customary smirk in place. "Now however did you manage it? The question of your genuine athletic merit is certainly questionable-"
"Shut up," Ron said, face flaming.
"-and obviously you could never have paid your way in," Malfoy went on loftily.
"Like you did?" Ron snapped.
"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley. In my case the Slytherin captain was bright enough to recognize my evident talents as a Seeker and to select me, without the trouble of me having to try out like a common applicant." Malfoy smiled archly. "Our captain was clever and qualified. Which is more than I can say for some other alleged leaders."
"What are you saying?" Alicia demanded, narrowing her eyes at Malfoy.
Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but closed it quickly, looking at someone over Alicia's shoulder. The Gryffindors turned to see Professor Sprout scurrying up.
"Good morning, Gryffindors," she said cheerily. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy, all set for today's match against my house?"
"Perfectly ready, Professor," Malfoy said coolly. "Slytherin are especially determined to win today, because the team that wins today plays the one that wins tomorrow, who, Alicia here was just saying, is going to be Gryffindor."
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I have great faith that Hufflepuff are going to win today!" Professor Sprout said. "As for tomorrow's game, it will be close. Ravenclaw have had the most practise time this week, I believe. Miss Spinnet, what do you think?" she asked, turning to Alicia, then recoiled. "Miss Spinnet, what happened to you? You look like a ghost!"
"Or a vampire, with those dark circles under your eyes," joked George.
Malfoy frowned. "I find that remark in bad taste."
"I find your face in bad taste, but you don't hear me whining about it," Fred responded, speaking softly so that Professor Sprout would not hear.
"Perhaps you should get some rest before your team's first match tomorrow," Professor Sprout said kindly to Alicia before walking away to see the Hufflepuffs.
"Good luck tomorrow," Malfoy said, with that smirk that Harry dearly wanted to hit. "You'll need it. Unlike Slytherin, the team that relies on skill and cunning, Gryffindor survives simply by fluke." He walked away before any of them could get up to strike him.
That morning Hufflepuff lost to Slytherin, 180-70 points. The next day dawned with a clear sky and a bright yellow sun that shone down on a full stadium of people, all waving banners and cheering. Harry and Ron waited with the rest of the team in the changing room, listening to the noisome crowds and to a panicked Alicia, going over the plays for the twentieth time.
"Nervous?" Harry asked Ron.
"Yeah," Ron squeaked. He anxiously twitched his new Quidditch robes, which were deep red with gold trim at the hems and down the front.
"All you have to do is remember everything I just told you," Alicia said to him.
Ron looked at her in alarm. "Were you talking just now?"
The bleachers were packed as Hermione climbed up to meet Lavender, Neville, Parvati, Seamus and Dean just before the start of the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match.
"Come on, sit down, Hermione, the game's about to start!" Lavender cried.
Hermione sat between Lavender and Neville and pulled out her Omnioculars, a souvenir from the Quidditch World Cup the year before. "There they are!" she said, seeing the Gryffindor team burst onto the pitch in a flurry of scarlet and gold.
"There's Harry," Lavender said, pointing him out high above their heads.
"Ron's down at the end," Seamus said, pressing his own Omnioculars to his eyes.
Hermione trained her binoculars on Ron, who was flying effortlessly through the golden hoops and laughing as he did a barrel roll in the air. "He's really good," she said in wonder.
"He's a natural flier," Neville said glumly, wishing he could fly on a broom as well as Ron and impress girls.
"The players are out on the pitch now, and ready to go," Lee Jordan shouted into the magical megaphone that allowed him to narrate the action of the game for the entire stadium. "Here comes the referee, the marvellous Madam Hooch."
"Captains!" Madam Hooch called. Alicia and Graham Grosvenor, a short, spiky-haired blond seventh-year boy with sparkling blue eyes and a rosy complexion, faced off above her.
"Good luck," Alicia said politely to the Ravenclaw captain, a Chaser.
The pinkness of Graham Grosvenor's cheeks deepened. "You too."
Madam Hooch opened her hand and the Golden Snitch flitted away and vanished. Then she tossed the Quaffle up and released the Bludgers, and the game began.
"Gryffindor in possession," Lee Jordan said excitedly, "Spinnet has the Quaffle, and she throws to Bell. who is looking very attractive today, I might add-"
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Watch the game, not the girls!"
"Sorry, Professor. Bell takes a shot-deflected by Fawcett! Stebbins takes the Quaffle, passes to Grosvenor-oh, Grosvenor's hit by a Bludger! Fred, that was a great shot! The Quaffle's taken by Spinnet, passes to Angelina Johnson, Johnson takes it into the Ravenclaw end-she ducks a Bludger, quick reflexes on her-scores! A spectacular shot all the way from the left side! Ten points to Gryffindor!"
The Gryffindors in the bleachers cheered.
Angelina scored twice more in a row, then lost the Quaffle to Ravenclaw when he dodged a Bludger. Grosvenor scored once then, making the score 30- 10 for Gryffindor. Katie Bell took the tip of a Hawkshead Attacking Formation, a V-shape intended to frighten the other team out of the way, and it succeeded, pushing the score to 40-10. But Ravenclaw came back with two more goals. Ron looked furious. "It's an exciting match," Lee declared, and the crowd heartily agreed with him.
In fact, the match was so exciting with the Quaffle and the two Bludgers that no one noticed the absence of the fourth ball, the Golden Snitch. Harry observed all of the action from high above the pitch, where he usually stayed during the games so that he would see the Snitch immediately when it appeared. Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, flew up to the same altitude and squinted down at the pitch, also looking for the Snitch. Harry felt uneasy being near Cho, because he had once liked her a lot, until last year, when she took up with Cedric Diggory, causing him no end of disappointment and jealousy.
Cho also seemed subdued. They hovered in the air ten feet from each other, the roar of the crowd filling up the silence. Finally Cho called out to him, "Nice day for Quidditch."
"Yeah," Harry called back.
"Yesterday was cloudy," Cho said.
"It rained a lot," Harry said. "During the Hufflepuff-Slytherin match."
"Did you go?"
"Yeah, I was drenched." They both ducked to evade a stray Bludger.
When she was right-side up, Cho looked at her wristwatch. "It's been nearly half an hour, and I still can't see the Snitch anywhere!"
"I haven't seen it once," Harry realized.
Cho shrugged. "Me neither. But no one's even looking at us, they're all following the action down below. Your friend Ron's rather good."
"Yeah," said Harry, squinting. "Can you see the score?"
"I think it's 70-50, Gryffindor." She sighed at another explosion of cheering from the crowd. "80-50, Gryffindor." She craned her neck and scanned the cloudless sky. "Maybe it's up above our heads somewhere?"
"This is going to be a long game," Harry said. He settled in more comfortably on his Firebolt to watch the game below them. Stebbins, a Ravenclaw Chaser, launched the ball at the leftmost Gryffindor ring, while Ron was far off to the right, he was off like a shot, a blur of scarlet and gold-
Harry did a double take and looked down at his uniform. There was no gold trim at the collar, but there was gold on Ron's. The Golden Snitch! It was racing along the goal hoops with Ron, close to his right ear.
Harry plunged down, speeding towards Ron. "Hey!" he heard Cho cry behind him, because she had just noticed him dashing off.
"Gryffindor in possession," Lee Jordan shouted, "Weasley tosses the Quaffle to Bell, she's off to the Ravenclaw end, takes the shot- and Fawcett's too slow! Bell scores again- but what the devil? Harry, what're you doing? Potter! And Chang right behind Potter- Potter's seen the Snitch! Go, Potter- look out, Weasley!"
Harry shot straight at Ron, with Cho close on his tail. She'd seen the Snitch as well by now, but she was too slow to overtake him. Ron was focused on the Quaffle and was still oblivious to them and the Snitch, but when the entire stadium screamed, "Weasley!" Ron looked up wildly, and realized Harry was bearing down on him at top speed. Two feet away, Harry lunged forward off the Firebolt, hands outstretched.
"Har-" Ron's yelp was cut off by Harry colliding with him with a crunch, knocking him off the Feather-Light broomstick.
Whoosh. The stadium was momentarily filled with the sound of several hundred people gasping simultaneously.
Cho Chang shrieked as both boys hurtled towards the ground.
Fortunately for Ron, five feet above the ground, the Feather-Light broomstick caught him and bore him away safely. However, Harry realized that the Firebolt was not built to catch him, and he tucked himself into a ball so he wouldn't flatten himself on impact. He hit the grass, bruising himself in the process, and did several somersaults. When his momentum had run out he lay spread out on the grass, dazed. The entire stadium leaned forward, waiting. Then his hand fell open, revealing the Golden Snitch.
"Gryffindor wins!" shouted Madam Hooch, and the crowd exploded in gales of jubilation.
"Rather early start this year," Ron said to Harry during Divination. Professor Trelawney overheard and glided over to them.
"I can tell you why the Quidditch season is starting early," she said in her soft, wavering voice that usually annoyed Harry, but now made him curious.
"How would you know?" Ron asked insolently, forgetting his manners. Professor Trelawney was piqued.
"The cards will tell you," she said brusquely. She pointed to Ron's Tarot cards, lying on the table. "Go on. Shuffle and deal them out."
Ron obeyed, rather nervously because he had to keep glancing at his textbook to see how the cards should be arranged. Professor Trelawney waited. Ron finished placing the cards and peered at them. "Er."
"Look!" Professor Trelawney said, losing her patience again. She pointed at the cards. "The High Priestess! The Hermit! The Two of Swords reinforcing the Moon! What are they saying to you?"
Ron blanched. Seeing this, Professor Trelawney rolled her eyes. "It means an early and extremely cold winter, Mr. Weasley. Now I will ask you both not to discuss sports in class, and concentrate instead on Divination, the skills of which you are both sorely lacking!" She swept away.
All the teams practised themselves half to death because they were all infected with an ardent desire to take the Quidditch Cup, which last year had remained silently in the trophy room. No one would miss a practise or not give themselves over wholly to the game, not under the strict regime of this year's four determined captains.
Alicia Spinnet proved to be an excellent leader for the Gryffindor team. She was fiercely committed to the game and was trying hard not to follow after Oliver Wood too much. She had a tendency to overwork herself, though.
"It's horribly difficult being captain," she said breathlessly over breakfast on Saturday. She had dark circles under her eyes, because, as she explained, she had to stay up all night to finish her homework and plan out Quidditch tactics. She hadn't slept a wink in two days.
"It's not a war, Alicia," George Weasley said, amazed. "You're not the Viscount Wellington! It's just Quidditch. You're working yourself too hard."
"But I want us to win!" Alicia exclaimed petulantly. "I've convinced myself that if I plan everything now, there'll be less to do later."
"It makes sense in theory," Fred Weasley admitted.
"So does Communism," retorted George, "and don't you remember how that turned out for Russia?"
"Brace yourself, here comes Malfoy," Harry said to Ron. "Slytherin are playing Hufflepuff today, he's probably coming to have one more ridicule for good luck."
"Well, Weasley, you've finally gotten on your house team," sneered Malfoy, customary smirk in place. "Now however did you manage it? The question of your genuine athletic merit is certainly questionable-"
"Shut up," Ron said, face flaming.
"-and obviously you could never have paid your way in," Malfoy went on loftily.
"Like you did?" Ron snapped.
"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley. In my case the Slytherin captain was bright enough to recognize my evident talents as a Seeker and to select me, without the trouble of me having to try out like a common applicant." Malfoy smiled archly. "Our captain was clever and qualified. Which is more than I can say for some other alleged leaders."
"What are you saying?" Alicia demanded, narrowing her eyes at Malfoy.
Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but closed it quickly, looking at someone over Alicia's shoulder. The Gryffindors turned to see Professor Sprout scurrying up.
"Good morning, Gryffindors," she said cheerily. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy, all set for today's match against my house?"
"Perfectly ready, Professor," Malfoy said coolly. "Slytherin are especially determined to win today, because the team that wins today plays the one that wins tomorrow, who, Alicia here was just saying, is going to be Gryffindor."
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I have great faith that Hufflepuff are going to win today!" Professor Sprout said. "As for tomorrow's game, it will be close. Ravenclaw have had the most practise time this week, I believe. Miss Spinnet, what do you think?" she asked, turning to Alicia, then recoiled. "Miss Spinnet, what happened to you? You look like a ghost!"
"Or a vampire, with those dark circles under your eyes," joked George.
Malfoy frowned. "I find that remark in bad taste."
"I find your face in bad taste, but you don't hear me whining about it," Fred responded, speaking softly so that Professor Sprout would not hear.
"Perhaps you should get some rest before your team's first match tomorrow," Professor Sprout said kindly to Alicia before walking away to see the Hufflepuffs.
"Good luck tomorrow," Malfoy said, with that smirk that Harry dearly wanted to hit. "You'll need it. Unlike Slytherin, the team that relies on skill and cunning, Gryffindor survives simply by fluke." He walked away before any of them could get up to strike him.
That morning Hufflepuff lost to Slytherin, 180-70 points. The next day dawned with a clear sky and a bright yellow sun that shone down on a full stadium of people, all waving banners and cheering. Harry and Ron waited with the rest of the team in the changing room, listening to the noisome crowds and to a panicked Alicia, going over the plays for the twentieth time.
"Nervous?" Harry asked Ron.
"Yeah," Ron squeaked. He anxiously twitched his new Quidditch robes, which were deep red with gold trim at the hems and down the front.
"All you have to do is remember everything I just told you," Alicia said to him.
Ron looked at her in alarm. "Were you talking just now?"
The bleachers were packed as Hermione climbed up to meet Lavender, Neville, Parvati, Seamus and Dean just before the start of the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor match.
"Come on, sit down, Hermione, the game's about to start!" Lavender cried.
Hermione sat between Lavender and Neville and pulled out her Omnioculars, a souvenir from the Quidditch World Cup the year before. "There they are!" she said, seeing the Gryffindor team burst onto the pitch in a flurry of scarlet and gold.
"There's Harry," Lavender said, pointing him out high above their heads.
"Ron's down at the end," Seamus said, pressing his own Omnioculars to his eyes.
Hermione trained her binoculars on Ron, who was flying effortlessly through the golden hoops and laughing as he did a barrel roll in the air. "He's really good," she said in wonder.
"He's a natural flier," Neville said glumly, wishing he could fly on a broom as well as Ron and impress girls.
"The players are out on the pitch now, and ready to go," Lee Jordan shouted into the magical megaphone that allowed him to narrate the action of the game for the entire stadium. "Here comes the referee, the marvellous Madam Hooch."
"Captains!" Madam Hooch called. Alicia and Graham Grosvenor, a short, spiky-haired blond seventh-year boy with sparkling blue eyes and a rosy complexion, faced off above her.
"Good luck," Alicia said politely to the Ravenclaw captain, a Chaser.
The pinkness of Graham Grosvenor's cheeks deepened. "You too."
Madam Hooch opened her hand and the Golden Snitch flitted away and vanished. Then she tossed the Quaffle up and released the Bludgers, and the game began.
"Gryffindor in possession," Lee Jordan said excitedly, "Spinnet has the Quaffle, and she throws to Bell. who is looking very attractive today, I might add-"
"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall said sternly. "Watch the game, not the girls!"
"Sorry, Professor. Bell takes a shot-deflected by Fawcett! Stebbins takes the Quaffle, passes to Grosvenor-oh, Grosvenor's hit by a Bludger! Fred, that was a great shot! The Quaffle's taken by Spinnet, passes to Angelina Johnson, Johnson takes it into the Ravenclaw end-she ducks a Bludger, quick reflexes on her-scores! A spectacular shot all the way from the left side! Ten points to Gryffindor!"
The Gryffindors in the bleachers cheered.
Angelina scored twice more in a row, then lost the Quaffle to Ravenclaw when he dodged a Bludger. Grosvenor scored once then, making the score 30- 10 for Gryffindor. Katie Bell took the tip of a Hawkshead Attacking Formation, a V-shape intended to frighten the other team out of the way, and it succeeded, pushing the score to 40-10. But Ravenclaw came back with two more goals. Ron looked furious. "It's an exciting match," Lee declared, and the crowd heartily agreed with him.
In fact, the match was so exciting with the Quaffle and the two Bludgers that no one noticed the absence of the fourth ball, the Golden Snitch. Harry observed all of the action from high above the pitch, where he usually stayed during the games so that he would see the Snitch immediately when it appeared. Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, flew up to the same altitude and squinted down at the pitch, also looking for the Snitch. Harry felt uneasy being near Cho, because he had once liked her a lot, until last year, when she took up with Cedric Diggory, causing him no end of disappointment and jealousy.
Cho also seemed subdued. They hovered in the air ten feet from each other, the roar of the crowd filling up the silence. Finally Cho called out to him, "Nice day for Quidditch."
"Yeah," Harry called back.
"Yesterday was cloudy," Cho said.
"It rained a lot," Harry said. "During the Hufflepuff-Slytherin match."
"Did you go?"
"Yeah, I was drenched." They both ducked to evade a stray Bludger.
When she was right-side up, Cho looked at her wristwatch. "It's been nearly half an hour, and I still can't see the Snitch anywhere!"
"I haven't seen it once," Harry realized.
Cho shrugged. "Me neither. But no one's even looking at us, they're all following the action down below. Your friend Ron's rather good."
"Yeah," said Harry, squinting. "Can you see the score?"
"I think it's 70-50, Gryffindor." She sighed at another explosion of cheering from the crowd. "80-50, Gryffindor." She craned her neck and scanned the cloudless sky. "Maybe it's up above our heads somewhere?"
"This is going to be a long game," Harry said. He settled in more comfortably on his Firebolt to watch the game below them. Stebbins, a Ravenclaw Chaser, launched the ball at the leftmost Gryffindor ring, while Ron was far off to the right, he was off like a shot, a blur of scarlet and gold-
Harry did a double take and looked down at his uniform. There was no gold trim at the collar, but there was gold on Ron's. The Golden Snitch! It was racing along the goal hoops with Ron, close to his right ear.
Harry plunged down, speeding towards Ron. "Hey!" he heard Cho cry behind him, because she had just noticed him dashing off.
"Gryffindor in possession," Lee Jordan shouted, "Weasley tosses the Quaffle to Bell, she's off to the Ravenclaw end, takes the shot- and Fawcett's too slow! Bell scores again- but what the devil? Harry, what're you doing? Potter! And Chang right behind Potter- Potter's seen the Snitch! Go, Potter- look out, Weasley!"
Harry shot straight at Ron, with Cho close on his tail. She'd seen the Snitch as well by now, but she was too slow to overtake him. Ron was focused on the Quaffle and was still oblivious to them and the Snitch, but when the entire stadium screamed, "Weasley!" Ron looked up wildly, and realized Harry was bearing down on him at top speed. Two feet away, Harry lunged forward off the Firebolt, hands outstretched.
"Har-" Ron's yelp was cut off by Harry colliding with him with a crunch, knocking him off the Feather-Light broomstick.
Whoosh. The stadium was momentarily filled with the sound of several hundred people gasping simultaneously.
Cho Chang shrieked as both boys hurtled towards the ground.
Fortunately for Ron, five feet above the ground, the Feather-Light broomstick caught him and bore him away safely. However, Harry realized that the Firebolt was not built to catch him, and he tucked himself into a ball so he wouldn't flatten himself on impact. He hit the grass, bruising himself in the process, and did several somersaults. When his momentum had run out he lay spread out on the grass, dazed. The entire stadium leaned forward, waiting. Then his hand fell open, revealing the Golden Snitch.
"Gryffindor wins!" shouted Madam Hooch, and the crowd exploded in gales of jubilation.
