Chapter Four: England vs. Ireland
A/N: This chapter will begin with a returning character, some humor, and a desperate girl. Then, it'll go more into the Quidditch World Cup (i.e. the match). Oh, and thanks so much for the reviews! 25 of them now! Yay! Hopefully, I'll have 30 before the next chapter is posted. Hope ya enjoy the chapter!
PG-13 for loads of language (fuck, damn, bitch, hell, shit, etc. There are a load of fucks, so BEWARE) and, er, some 'racy' moments. Can't be Rated R though, so sorry if you find this story offending. º¿º
Btw, did anyone watch Spring Break 2003 on MTV yesterday? The All-American Rejects performed and they were excellent! I noticed that Tyson Ritter (the lead singer) was extremely sweaty but he looked hot anyway! ^_~
Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Harry. Potter.
* * *
The actual match would be held the next day. At about 11:00 p.m., Harry was still awake, sitting up in his bed. Try as hard as he could, he just couldn't fall asleep. He was awaiting the next day, when he would see Ireland face off England for the Quidditch World Cup.
Harry yawned as he remembered first year, The Sorting Hat had considered putting him, Harry Potter, into Gryffindor. Harry shuddered at the thought of being a . . . a Gryffindor. But luckily, Harry had convinced the Sorting Hat to put him into Slytherin.
He was treated like a celebrity in his first year at Hogwarts . . . oh wait, he had always been treated like a celebrity. Everyone just stood and stared at him has he walked through the hallways and corridors. At first, he was kind of freaked out but he soon got used to it.
Harry yawned again. He closed his eyes and fell fast asleep . . .
* * *
Harry had a few rather odd dreams that night. In his first dream, he was walking around in a large, very colorful garden. He heard a female voice calling out for him. And then the voice was replaced by evil laughing and a woman shouting "No! Don't take Harry! Please, take me!" Then, he was taken by some force into the sky, where he saw a flash of green light and he fell to the ground.
In his second dream, Harry was just a child. He was in a rather dark place, alone and helpless. He kept calling out, "Mommy! Daddy!" but no one came. Then, a female figure with brown hair and big chocolate brown eyes picked him up and brought him to her home, safe and warm.
What do these dreams MEAN? Harry asked himself, waking up after his second dream. Was it a sign? Would he ever know?
* * *
"Krum!" Ron exclaimed. He was staring at someone behind Hermione's back.
"W-what?" Hermione said, quite confused. She turned around and her eyes widened.
"Viktor Krum," Ron whispered loudly. Hermione started shaking slightly. No, not Krum . . . Hermione said to herself in her mind. She turned around again and quickly leaned in, kissing Ron. He noticed that Krum was watching, scowling. When Hermione finally stopped (which seemed like ages later, though Ron wasn't complaining). Ron was speechless. Hermione grinned sweetly and turned around. Viktor was now talking to Harry . . .
* * *
"Hey Viktor. How's your summer been?" Harry asked.
"Okay," Viktor grunted, looking really angry and jealous about something.
"What's the matter?" Draco asked, walking over, next to Harry. He had been talking to Vanessa again.
"DRACIE! Dracie-poo!" exclaimed a voice (A/N: Oh, and Dracie is pronounced dray-key, not drah-key). Draco and Harry turned around and saw Pansy Parkinson (a.k.a. the clingy and pathetically desperate school slut who can't take a hint). She was running over, her arms outstretched in front of her. Draco looked horrified and was about to run away but he was too late. Pansy had grasped Draco and was squeezing him hard. She leaned in and gave him a big kiss on his lips while Draco wiped it away.
"I missed you so MUCH, Dracie-pancakie!" Viktor and Harry tried to keep themselves from laughing. They were unsuccessful. They started bursting out laughing and didn't even try to stop. Pansy gave them both dirty looks but then turned back to Draco.
"Ack, get OFF me, bitch!" Draco exclaimed, trying hard to get her arms off of him.
"B-but Dracie . . . D-Don't you love me anymore?" Pansy asked, whimpering loudly. Her eyes started filling with tears.
"I never LOVED you!" Dracie (er, Draco) spat. He gave Pansy a look of disgust and pulled her arms off of his body.
"Oh well. You'll come around!" Pansy said. She gave him once last squeeze and walked away reluctantly.
"Vell, that vas funny," Viktor said, trying to keep a straight face.
"Yeah, it was," Harry agreed. He smirked and looked at his watch. "The match starts in a half hour. We better get going."
"Vell, bye then," Viktor said, and walked away, joining his Mum and Dad. Harry and Draco waved and walked into the stadium. They walked up the stairs and into the Top Box. It was already filled with tons of people, including the Krums, some Ministry officials, and the WEASLEYS. Harry saw Hermione glaring at him and gave her a wink. He saw her roll her eyes and look away. Draco and Harry sat down next to Lucius and Narcissa.
Harry grabbed his Omnioculars out of his pocket. He looked up at a large billboard that showed advertisements such as: Sleekeazy's Hair Potion: De-frizz and smooth your horrible hair! ("Granger should use that more often.") and Quidditch Power Potions: Make Your Broom Ultra Powerful (ONLY 50 galleons each, for a limited time). Available in Chasblin, Diagon Alley, and Hogsmeade. When the advertisements finally finished, IRELAND: 0, ENGLAND: 0 flashed onto the scoreboard.
"This is Austin Melan, your commentator for today's match. We're sure that this match will be thrilling!" exclaimed Melan. "And now, the Irish National Team Mascots!" In came hundreds of little Leprechauns, who held up a rather large Irish flag. They were throwing four-leaf clovers, shamrocks, and piles of Leprechaun gold into the audience. Harry and Draco saw Ron trying to catch as many coins as possible.
"I suppose that's how they get by; with handouts," Draco sneered. Ron overheard this and his ears turned red. He kept the gold in his pockets and sat back down in his seat.
"And, give a loud applause for the Wimbourine Wasps Team Mascots!" A large buzz overcame the stadium. A hundred, at least, of large wasp-like animals flew into the stadium. There was a very loud applause.
"Here come the winners of last year's Quidditch World Cup . . . the Irish National Team!" Moran! Troy! Mullet! Connolly! Ryan! Quigley! Aaannnddd, LYNCH!" Seven players in bright green robes zoomed out into the Quidditch Pitch. There were lots of cheers coming from the audience.
"Aaanddd, the Wimbourine Wasps!" Seven players in robes with horizontal black and yellow stripes flew out into the Quidditch Pitch. There was a loud applause for the Wasps. "Harmon! Stagant! Jackson! Johnson! Neman! Clark! Aaaaaannndddd . . . MOORE!" The stadium was yet again overcome with applause and cheers,
"Here's our referee, Andoro Affendia, whose ancestors helped create the first game of Quidditch!" exclaimed Melan. Everyone applauded as Andoro waved out to the crowd. He was a tall, brown-haired man with broad shoulders. Harry saw him blow his whistle and let out the Quidditch balls.
"Aaandd, they're OFF!" The Quaffle is immediately taken by Troy! Moran! Mullet! Oh, and Clark takes control. Quick pass to Jackson! Johnson!" There were load boos coming from the Irish side while the England side was cheering.
"And, Clark scores! Ten zero to England!" There was a roar of cheers and applause.
"Moran takes possession of the Quaffle. Out comes Jackson. Plain and simple, that was cobbing! And it's a penalty to Ireland!" The wasp-like creatures buzzed loudly and angrily at the Leprechauns who had formed the word, "HE HE HE!" in the air.
"And Moran misses! Harmon blocks the goal. England is now in possession," said Melan.
"The Bludger is heading right for Harmon . . . but narrowly misses!"
"Stagant hits a Bludger out of the Pitch. It flies back in, rampant and wild!"
"Moore seems to have seen the Snitch! Lynch is tailing right behind him!"
"Mullet takes the Quaffle. Sharp pass to Troy! And he SCORES! Ten ten to both teams." Excitement was in Melan's voice.
"Clark takes possession of the Quaffle. Swift pass to Johnson. OH, and he attempts to throw the Quaffle into the goal . . . AND MISSES! Score is still ten ten."
"Ireland takes possession of the Quaffle! Harmon hits a stray Bludger, almost hitting Moran!"
* * *
Hermione was watching the Quidditch World Cup with Ron. She was having a great time, concentrating on the game and cheering. One person popped into her mind though. Harry Potter with his enchanting emerald green eyes, muscular body, perfectly messy hair . . . WHAT!? Hermione . . . thinking about . . . POTTER!? What was happening? Hermione shook her head and looked around the Top Box. Harry was concentrating on the game like Ron was. She saw him turn and see her looking at him. He smirked at her and Hermione rolled her eyes, turning away. She didn't like Harry . . . did she?
NO! Of course she didn't! For so many years, he had called her a Mudblood, saying Granger in disgust. He was mean, rude, disgusting . . . but oh so wonderful. He was hot, she had to give him that. But other than that, he was a really, very horrible person.
* * *
One hour later . . .
"And Johnson scores! One fifty seventy to Ireland." From what was happening, Harry could tell that Ireland was definitely going to win.
"I bet you fifty galleons that Ireland'll win," Draco said.
"You're on," Harry replied, keeping his eyes on the match. Harry sighed. He would have to give 50 galleons to Malfoy . . .
"Moore is flying swiftly, nearing his goal . . ." 'Hurry up and get the Snitch." Harry thought, watching Moore flying and diving in the air.
"AND MOORE CATCHES THE SNITCH!" exclaimed Melan. "ENGLAND WINS FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 20 YEARS!" Almost everyone in the stadium cheered and clapped for the Wasps. Moore clutched the Quidditch Cup, grinning broadly as his teammates held him up.
"I believe you owe me 50 galleons, Malfoy," Harry said, smirking. Harry heard Draco muttering curses as he gave Harry a few large handfuls of galleons. By the end of the day, Harry had a broad grin on his face, his eyes glowing with mischief.
* * *
A/N: Sooo . . . how was the chapter? I'm dying to know (literally!)! Please review and tell me your thoughts and opinions! Sorry if it bored the pants and underwear off of you (er, don't ask)! The more you review, the faster I'll write. Agh, I know, the Quidditch match was SO SHORT, but I couldn't really think of anything to write. Oodles of sorriness (er, that isn't a word . . .) from me! Sorry if you find the chapters short but they're long compared to the first 10 chapters of 'When Your Eyes Say It' (they were all in the 500-600 word range . . . short, I know). I just don't think I have the willpower to write more than 1,200-1,500 words per chapter (A/A/N: I just checked word count and this is more than 2,000 words! Yay! Er, that contains the A/Ns too so the chapter's shorter. Poop. Heh ^_~). Sorry. I'll post longer chapters when I get more and better ideas. Please feel free to tell me your suggestions and ideas for this story. I have some ideas for later chapters. Including a karaoke contest at the Halloween Ball or something. And, maybe a serious relationship for our Mr. Potter . . . . oh, there I go again! Spoiling the story for all of you poor civilians! Oh, and I'll try to get a chapter out every weekend, OK? Later!
A/N: This chapter will begin with a returning character, some humor, and a desperate girl. Then, it'll go more into the Quidditch World Cup (i.e. the match). Oh, and thanks so much for the reviews! 25 of them now! Yay! Hopefully, I'll have 30 before the next chapter is posted. Hope ya enjoy the chapter!
PG-13 for loads of language (fuck, damn, bitch, hell, shit, etc. There are a load of fucks, so BEWARE) and, er, some 'racy' moments. Can't be Rated R though, so sorry if you find this story offending. º¿º
Btw, did anyone watch Spring Break 2003 on MTV yesterday? The All-American Rejects performed and they were excellent! I noticed that Tyson Ritter (the lead singer) was extremely sweaty but he looked hot anyway! ^_~
Disclaimer: I. Do. Not. Own. Harry. Potter.
* * *
The actual match would be held the next day. At about 11:00 p.m., Harry was still awake, sitting up in his bed. Try as hard as he could, he just couldn't fall asleep. He was awaiting the next day, when he would see Ireland face off England for the Quidditch World Cup.
Harry yawned as he remembered first year, The Sorting Hat had considered putting him, Harry Potter, into Gryffindor. Harry shuddered at the thought of being a . . . a Gryffindor. But luckily, Harry had convinced the Sorting Hat to put him into Slytherin.
He was treated like a celebrity in his first year at Hogwarts . . . oh wait, he had always been treated like a celebrity. Everyone just stood and stared at him has he walked through the hallways and corridors. At first, he was kind of freaked out but he soon got used to it.
Harry yawned again. He closed his eyes and fell fast asleep . . .
* * *
Harry had a few rather odd dreams that night. In his first dream, he was walking around in a large, very colorful garden. He heard a female voice calling out for him. And then the voice was replaced by evil laughing and a woman shouting "No! Don't take Harry! Please, take me!" Then, he was taken by some force into the sky, where he saw a flash of green light and he fell to the ground.
In his second dream, Harry was just a child. He was in a rather dark place, alone and helpless. He kept calling out, "Mommy! Daddy!" but no one came. Then, a female figure with brown hair and big chocolate brown eyes picked him up and brought him to her home, safe and warm.
What do these dreams MEAN? Harry asked himself, waking up after his second dream. Was it a sign? Would he ever know?
* * *
"Krum!" Ron exclaimed. He was staring at someone behind Hermione's back.
"W-what?" Hermione said, quite confused. She turned around and her eyes widened.
"Viktor Krum," Ron whispered loudly. Hermione started shaking slightly. No, not Krum . . . Hermione said to herself in her mind. She turned around again and quickly leaned in, kissing Ron. He noticed that Krum was watching, scowling. When Hermione finally stopped (which seemed like ages later, though Ron wasn't complaining). Ron was speechless. Hermione grinned sweetly and turned around. Viktor was now talking to Harry . . .
* * *
"Hey Viktor. How's your summer been?" Harry asked.
"Okay," Viktor grunted, looking really angry and jealous about something.
"What's the matter?" Draco asked, walking over, next to Harry. He had been talking to Vanessa again.
"DRACIE! Dracie-poo!" exclaimed a voice (A/N: Oh, and Dracie is pronounced dray-key, not drah-key). Draco and Harry turned around and saw Pansy Parkinson (a.k.a. the clingy and pathetically desperate school slut who can't take a hint). She was running over, her arms outstretched in front of her. Draco looked horrified and was about to run away but he was too late. Pansy had grasped Draco and was squeezing him hard. She leaned in and gave him a big kiss on his lips while Draco wiped it away.
"I missed you so MUCH, Dracie-pancakie!" Viktor and Harry tried to keep themselves from laughing. They were unsuccessful. They started bursting out laughing and didn't even try to stop. Pansy gave them both dirty looks but then turned back to Draco.
"Ack, get OFF me, bitch!" Draco exclaimed, trying hard to get her arms off of him.
"B-but Dracie . . . D-Don't you love me anymore?" Pansy asked, whimpering loudly. Her eyes started filling with tears.
"I never LOVED you!" Dracie (er, Draco) spat. He gave Pansy a look of disgust and pulled her arms off of his body.
"Oh well. You'll come around!" Pansy said. She gave him once last squeeze and walked away reluctantly.
"Vell, that vas funny," Viktor said, trying to keep a straight face.
"Yeah, it was," Harry agreed. He smirked and looked at his watch. "The match starts in a half hour. We better get going."
"Vell, bye then," Viktor said, and walked away, joining his Mum and Dad. Harry and Draco waved and walked into the stadium. They walked up the stairs and into the Top Box. It was already filled with tons of people, including the Krums, some Ministry officials, and the WEASLEYS. Harry saw Hermione glaring at him and gave her a wink. He saw her roll her eyes and look away. Draco and Harry sat down next to Lucius and Narcissa.
Harry grabbed his Omnioculars out of his pocket. He looked up at a large billboard that showed advertisements such as: Sleekeazy's Hair Potion: De-frizz and smooth your horrible hair! ("Granger should use that more often.") and Quidditch Power Potions: Make Your Broom Ultra Powerful (ONLY 50 galleons each, for a limited time). Available in Chasblin, Diagon Alley, and Hogsmeade. When the advertisements finally finished, IRELAND: 0, ENGLAND: 0 flashed onto the scoreboard.
"This is Austin Melan, your commentator for today's match. We're sure that this match will be thrilling!" exclaimed Melan. "And now, the Irish National Team Mascots!" In came hundreds of little Leprechauns, who held up a rather large Irish flag. They were throwing four-leaf clovers, shamrocks, and piles of Leprechaun gold into the audience. Harry and Draco saw Ron trying to catch as many coins as possible.
"I suppose that's how they get by; with handouts," Draco sneered. Ron overheard this and his ears turned red. He kept the gold in his pockets and sat back down in his seat.
"And, give a loud applause for the Wimbourine Wasps Team Mascots!" A large buzz overcame the stadium. A hundred, at least, of large wasp-like animals flew into the stadium. There was a very loud applause.
"Here come the winners of last year's Quidditch World Cup . . . the Irish National Team!" Moran! Troy! Mullet! Connolly! Ryan! Quigley! Aaannnddd, LYNCH!" Seven players in bright green robes zoomed out into the Quidditch Pitch. There were lots of cheers coming from the audience.
"Aaanddd, the Wimbourine Wasps!" Seven players in robes with horizontal black and yellow stripes flew out into the Quidditch Pitch. There was a loud applause for the Wasps. "Harmon! Stagant! Jackson! Johnson! Neman! Clark! Aaaaaannndddd . . . MOORE!" The stadium was yet again overcome with applause and cheers,
"Here's our referee, Andoro Affendia, whose ancestors helped create the first game of Quidditch!" exclaimed Melan. Everyone applauded as Andoro waved out to the crowd. He was a tall, brown-haired man with broad shoulders. Harry saw him blow his whistle and let out the Quidditch balls.
"Aaandd, they're OFF!" The Quaffle is immediately taken by Troy! Moran! Mullet! Oh, and Clark takes control. Quick pass to Jackson! Johnson!" There were load boos coming from the Irish side while the England side was cheering.
"And, Clark scores! Ten zero to England!" There was a roar of cheers and applause.
"Moran takes possession of the Quaffle. Out comes Jackson. Plain and simple, that was cobbing! And it's a penalty to Ireland!" The wasp-like creatures buzzed loudly and angrily at the Leprechauns who had formed the word, "HE HE HE!" in the air.
"And Moran misses! Harmon blocks the goal. England is now in possession," said Melan.
"The Bludger is heading right for Harmon . . . but narrowly misses!"
"Stagant hits a Bludger out of the Pitch. It flies back in, rampant and wild!"
"Moore seems to have seen the Snitch! Lynch is tailing right behind him!"
"Mullet takes the Quaffle. Sharp pass to Troy! And he SCORES! Ten ten to both teams." Excitement was in Melan's voice.
"Clark takes possession of the Quaffle. Swift pass to Johnson. OH, and he attempts to throw the Quaffle into the goal . . . AND MISSES! Score is still ten ten."
"Ireland takes possession of the Quaffle! Harmon hits a stray Bludger, almost hitting Moran!"
* * *
Hermione was watching the Quidditch World Cup with Ron. She was having a great time, concentrating on the game and cheering. One person popped into her mind though. Harry Potter with his enchanting emerald green eyes, muscular body, perfectly messy hair . . . WHAT!? Hermione . . . thinking about . . . POTTER!? What was happening? Hermione shook her head and looked around the Top Box. Harry was concentrating on the game like Ron was. She saw him turn and see her looking at him. He smirked at her and Hermione rolled her eyes, turning away. She didn't like Harry . . . did she?
NO! Of course she didn't! For so many years, he had called her a Mudblood, saying Granger in disgust. He was mean, rude, disgusting . . . but oh so wonderful. He was hot, she had to give him that. But other than that, he was a really, very horrible person.
* * *
One hour later . . .
"And Johnson scores! One fifty seventy to Ireland." From what was happening, Harry could tell that Ireland was definitely going to win.
"I bet you fifty galleons that Ireland'll win," Draco said.
"You're on," Harry replied, keeping his eyes on the match. Harry sighed. He would have to give 50 galleons to Malfoy . . .
"Moore is flying swiftly, nearing his goal . . ." 'Hurry up and get the Snitch." Harry thought, watching Moore flying and diving in the air.
"AND MOORE CATCHES THE SNITCH!" exclaimed Melan. "ENGLAND WINS FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 20 YEARS!" Almost everyone in the stadium cheered and clapped for the Wasps. Moore clutched the Quidditch Cup, grinning broadly as his teammates held him up.
"I believe you owe me 50 galleons, Malfoy," Harry said, smirking. Harry heard Draco muttering curses as he gave Harry a few large handfuls of galleons. By the end of the day, Harry had a broad grin on his face, his eyes glowing with mischief.
* * *
A/N: Sooo . . . how was the chapter? I'm dying to know (literally!)! Please review and tell me your thoughts and opinions! Sorry if it bored the pants and underwear off of you (er, don't ask)! The more you review, the faster I'll write. Agh, I know, the Quidditch match was SO SHORT, but I couldn't really think of anything to write. Oodles of sorriness (er, that isn't a word . . .) from me! Sorry if you find the chapters short but they're long compared to the first 10 chapters of 'When Your Eyes Say It' (they were all in the 500-600 word range . . . short, I know). I just don't think I have the willpower to write more than 1,200-1,500 words per chapter (A/A/N: I just checked word count and this is more than 2,000 words! Yay! Er, that contains the A/Ns too so the chapter's shorter. Poop. Heh ^_~). Sorry. I'll post longer chapters when I get more and better ideas. Please feel free to tell me your suggestions and ideas for this story. I have some ideas for later chapters. Including a karaoke contest at the Halloween Ball or something. And, maybe a serious relationship for our Mr. Potter . . . . oh, there I go again! Spoiling the story for all of you poor civilians! Oh, and I'll try to get a chapter out every weekend, OK? Later!