"Quidditch"
Sung by: The Gryfindor Quidditch team
To the tune of: "Tradition"
From: "The Fiddler on the Roof" (Again, sorry.)
***
Fred and George Weasley were now quite convinced that Oliver Wood had
lost his tiny little mind. By the looks on their faces, the other members
of the Gryfindor Quidditch team seemed to be thinking close to the same
thing. The six of them sat, drowsy and irritated, on a bench in the locker
room as their Captain, O, Captain paced in front of them and rambled like a
mad man. This was far worse than his usual pep talk. Whatever this was, it
was madness. Pure madness.
"A wizard on a broom," he shouted. "Sounds crazy, no? But on our
little Gryfindor Quidditch team, you might say that every one of us is a
wizard on a broom, trying beat Slytherin's sorry arse without breaking his
neck. It isn't easy. You may ask, why do we stay up there if it's so
dangerous? We stay because Gryfindor is our team. And why do we fly around
on broomsticks? That I can tell you in one word...Quidditch."
And then, inexplicably and against their will, the rest of the team
chorused,
"Quidditch! Quidditch! .....Quidditch!
Quidditch! Quidditch! ......Quidditch!"
"Because of Quidditch," Wood rambled on, "we've kept busy for many, many
years. Here at Hogwarts we have traditions for everything.....how to keep,
how to seek, how to chase, even how to wear our robes. For instance, we
always keep our cloaks fastened like this and we also wear these little red
rosettes....this shows our constant devotion to our team. You may ask, how
did this tradition start? I'll tell you- I don't know. But it's about
Quidditch....Because of our Quidditch, everyone on the team knows who he is
and what his house expects him to do."
And then, much to their horror, Wood burst into song.
"Who, every match,
Must scramble for the Quaffle,
Thwart the opposing Chasers,
Protect our team's hoops?
And who has the job,
As guardian of the goals,
To make sure the other team can't score?"
And then, scared and confused, the other six joined Wood for the chorus,
singing heartily, yet involuntarily.
"The Keeper! The Keeper! .....Quidditch!
The Keeper! The Keeper! .....Quidditch!"
Katie, Angelina, and Alicia leapt up and danced, singing,
"Who must know the way to score a proper goal?
A perfect goal? A flawless goal?
Who must pass the Quaffle 'round through the game's whole,
So the Seeker's free to catch the Golden Snitch?"
Again, they all sang the chorus.
"The Chasers! The Chasers! ......Quidditch!
The Chasers! The Chasers! .......Quidditch!"
Harry, wondering wildly what kind of dark magic was behind all this, jumped
up and sang,
"At eleven I joined the Quidditch team
As their secret weapon.
I have to chase that Golden Snitch
All across..... the heavens!"
"The Seeker! The Seeker! .......Quidditch!
The Seeker! The Seeker! ......Quidditch!"
Fred and George jumped off the bench for their verse, and prancing around
in a rather girly manner, they sang,
"Which players on the team
Keep the Bludgers at bay?
Using our bats to send them
The opposition's way?"
"The Beaters! The Beater! .....Quidditch!"
"We've got two Beaters!" shouted Captain-State-the-Obvious (i.e. Wood)
insanely.
"The Beaters! The Beaters! .......Quidditch!"
The whole team was up and awake now, dancing about and singing their
respective verses in a round. Anyone looking in on them would have either
been very frightened or would have taken pictures and used them for
blackmail.
"The Keeper!"
"The Chasers!"
"The Seeker!"
"The Beaters!"
"Quidditch!"
"The Keeper!"
"The Chasers!"
"The Seeker!"
"The Beaters!"
"Quidditch!"
"And in the circle of our little Quidditch team," said Wood, "we have
always had our special types, for instance Harry, the seeker."
"Oliver," said Harry, "I've got the perfect move for our next match against
Slytherin."
"What is it?"
"The Bat Wing Dive."
"The Bat Wing? But that's kind of a stupid move. Are you sure it'll work?"
"Tell the truth, Oliver, is Malfoy such a smart guy? The stupidity of that
move and the stupidity of Malfoy, it's a perfect match!"
"And Katie, Alicia, and Angelina," said Wood, "our Chasers."
"Does anyone have any lip gloss?" asked Katie. "Anyone? Alicia?"
"Sorry, Katie, I'm running out."
"So, if you're running out, why should I suffer?"
"And of course," continued Wood, "our beloved Beaters, Fred and George."
"Oliver," said Fred, "can I ask you a question?"
"Certainly, Fred."
"Is there a proper blessing for the Minister of Magic?"
"A blessing for the Minister? Of course. May God bless and keep the
Minister...far away from us!"
"And among ourselves," said Wood brightly, "we get along perfectly well. Of
course, there was the time when Flint tried to put some sort of spell on
our team and we couldn't decide whether it was a curse or a hex, but that's
all settled now. Now we live in perfect harmony!"
"It was a hex!" insisted Angelina.
"It was a curse!" cried George.
"Hex!" shouted half of the team.
"Curse!" yelled the other half.
"Hex!"
"Curse!"
"Hex!"
"Curse!"
"Hex!"
"Curse!"
Forgetting the argument, they sang in unison,
"Quidditch! Quidditch! .......Quidditch!
Quidditch! Quidditch! .......Quidditch!"
"Quidditch," sighed Wood wistfully. "Without our Quidditch, our lives would
be as shaky as, as..... as a wizard on a broom!"
Squeezed uncomfortably inside a small red locker, Snape giggled madly,
holding the lyrics booklet to his "Fiddler on the Roof" soundtrack CD and
pointing his wand at the bewitched Gryfindors.
Suddenly the door of the locker room opened, and there was Dumbledore, his
figure outlined by the pink rays of dawn. In his shock, Snape dropped his
wand and it fell to the floor and rolled to the Headmaster's feet. The
spell was broken instantly, and the Quidditch team abruptly stopped singing
and dancing, looking dazed and confused and massaging their sore throats.
Looking in the direction of the wand's origin, Dumbledore spotted the
slightly open locker. The tip of Snape's ample nose was poking around the
edge of it. "There you are, Severus!" he exclaimed. "How did you ever get
out of the Hospital Wing? You know you're not supposed to be in here! Now
come on, we're having your favorite, snozberry muffins, for lunch today,
even though you've been very bad."
"Tradition," muttered Snape as he climbed tentatively out of the locker,
"tradition.....tradition."
Sung by: The Gryfindor Quidditch team
To the tune of: "Tradition"
From: "The Fiddler on the Roof" (Again, sorry.)
***
Fred and George Weasley were now quite convinced that Oliver Wood had
lost his tiny little mind. By the looks on their faces, the other members
of the Gryfindor Quidditch team seemed to be thinking close to the same
thing. The six of them sat, drowsy and irritated, on a bench in the locker
room as their Captain, O, Captain paced in front of them and rambled like a
mad man. This was far worse than his usual pep talk. Whatever this was, it
was madness. Pure madness.
"A wizard on a broom," he shouted. "Sounds crazy, no? But on our
little Gryfindor Quidditch team, you might say that every one of us is a
wizard on a broom, trying beat Slytherin's sorry arse without breaking his
neck. It isn't easy. You may ask, why do we stay up there if it's so
dangerous? We stay because Gryfindor is our team. And why do we fly around
on broomsticks? That I can tell you in one word...Quidditch."
And then, inexplicably and against their will, the rest of the team
chorused,
"Quidditch! Quidditch! .....Quidditch!
Quidditch! Quidditch! ......Quidditch!"
"Because of Quidditch," Wood rambled on, "we've kept busy for many, many
years. Here at Hogwarts we have traditions for everything.....how to keep,
how to seek, how to chase, even how to wear our robes. For instance, we
always keep our cloaks fastened like this and we also wear these little red
rosettes....this shows our constant devotion to our team. You may ask, how
did this tradition start? I'll tell you- I don't know. But it's about
Quidditch....Because of our Quidditch, everyone on the team knows who he is
and what his house expects him to do."
And then, much to their horror, Wood burst into song.
"Who, every match,
Must scramble for the Quaffle,
Thwart the opposing Chasers,
Protect our team's hoops?
And who has the job,
As guardian of the goals,
To make sure the other team can't score?"
And then, scared and confused, the other six joined Wood for the chorus,
singing heartily, yet involuntarily.
"The Keeper! The Keeper! .....Quidditch!
The Keeper! The Keeper! .....Quidditch!"
Katie, Angelina, and Alicia leapt up and danced, singing,
"Who must know the way to score a proper goal?
A perfect goal? A flawless goal?
Who must pass the Quaffle 'round through the game's whole,
So the Seeker's free to catch the Golden Snitch?"
Again, they all sang the chorus.
"The Chasers! The Chasers! ......Quidditch!
The Chasers! The Chasers! .......Quidditch!"
Harry, wondering wildly what kind of dark magic was behind all this, jumped
up and sang,
"At eleven I joined the Quidditch team
As their secret weapon.
I have to chase that Golden Snitch
All across..... the heavens!"
"The Seeker! The Seeker! .......Quidditch!
The Seeker! The Seeker! ......Quidditch!"
Fred and George jumped off the bench for their verse, and prancing around
in a rather girly manner, they sang,
"Which players on the team
Keep the Bludgers at bay?
Using our bats to send them
The opposition's way?"
"The Beaters! The Beater! .....Quidditch!"
"We've got two Beaters!" shouted Captain-State-the-Obvious (i.e. Wood)
insanely.
"The Beaters! The Beaters! .......Quidditch!"
The whole team was up and awake now, dancing about and singing their
respective verses in a round. Anyone looking in on them would have either
been very frightened or would have taken pictures and used them for
blackmail.
"The Keeper!"
"The Chasers!"
"The Seeker!"
"The Beaters!"
"Quidditch!"
"The Keeper!"
"The Chasers!"
"The Seeker!"
"The Beaters!"
"Quidditch!"
"And in the circle of our little Quidditch team," said Wood, "we have
always had our special types, for instance Harry, the seeker."
"Oliver," said Harry, "I've got the perfect move for our next match against
Slytherin."
"What is it?"
"The Bat Wing Dive."
"The Bat Wing? But that's kind of a stupid move. Are you sure it'll work?"
"Tell the truth, Oliver, is Malfoy such a smart guy? The stupidity of that
move and the stupidity of Malfoy, it's a perfect match!"
"And Katie, Alicia, and Angelina," said Wood, "our Chasers."
"Does anyone have any lip gloss?" asked Katie. "Anyone? Alicia?"
"Sorry, Katie, I'm running out."
"So, if you're running out, why should I suffer?"
"And of course," continued Wood, "our beloved Beaters, Fred and George."
"Oliver," said Fred, "can I ask you a question?"
"Certainly, Fred."
"Is there a proper blessing for the Minister of Magic?"
"A blessing for the Minister? Of course. May God bless and keep the
Minister...far away from us!"
"And among ourselves," said Wood brightly, "we get along perfectly well. Of
course, there was the time when Flint tried to put some sort of spell on
our team and we couldn't decide whether it was a curse or a hex, but that's
all settled now. Now we live in perfect harmony!"
"It was a hex!" insisted Angelina.
"It was a curse!" cried George.
"Hex!" shouted half of the team.
"Curse!" yelled the other half.
"Hex!"
"Curse!"
"Hex!"
"Curse!"
"Hex!"
"Curse!"
Forgetting the argument, they sang in unison,
"Quidditch! Quidditch! .......Quidditch!
Quidditch! Quidditch! .......Quidditch!"
"Quidditch," sighed Wood wistfully. "Without our Quidditch, our lives would
be as shaky as, as..... as a wizard on a broom!"
Squeezed uncomfortably inside a small red locker, Snape giggled madly,
holding the lyrics booklet to his "Fiddler on the Roof" soundtrack CD and
pointing his wand at the bewitched Gryfindors.
Suddenly the door of the locker room opened, and there was Dumbledore, his
figure outlined by the pink rays of dawn. In his shock, Snape dropped his
wand and it fell to the floor and rolled to the Headmaster's feet. The
spell was broken instantly, and the Quidditch team abruptly stopped singing
and dancing, looking dazed and confused and massaging their sore throats.
Looking in the direction of the wand's origin, Dumbledore spotted the
slightly open locker. The tip of Snape's ample nose was poking around the
edge of it. "There you are, Severus!" he exclaimed. "How did you ever get
out of the Hospital Wing? You know you're not supposed to be in here! Now
come on, we're having your favorite, snozberry muffins, for lunch today,
even though you've been very bad."
"Tradition," muttered Snape as he climbed tentatively out of the locker,
"tradition.....tradition."
