Author's Note
Yes, this next chapter is short... But it didn't fit well with those before and after it...
Well, what do you care, you want more story, right? Here you go:
Chapter Twenty Nine: Quidditch Homecoming
Harry awoke several hours before sunrise, and quickly dressed. Today was the
Quidditch Homecoming game -- a chance to gain double points for the House Cup, to once
again taste victory, and... He sighed. Dumbledore had called him and Ron into his office a
week before, just after Lucius Malfoy's surprise appearance, and the headmaster had
formulated a plan. Now all they could do was wait... and hope.
He splashed some water on her face, and headed to the Gryffindor common room,
where the rest of the team, save Ginny, who was now a Chaser, was waiting. Once she had
arrived, a couple of minutes later, they headed downstairs. The team skipped breakfast,
and strode to the Quidditch field as the first rays of sunshine crept over the horizon. It
looked to be the beginning of a beautiful day, with not a single cloud in the sky.
Once in the locker room, Harry looked at the team, and launched into a pep-talk,
Oliver-Wood style.
"Jesus, Harry, you're starting to sound just like everyone says Oliver used to," said
Ron.
"Yeah, I just hope she doesn't become obsessed like him," replied Ginny.
Lavender Brown nodded in agreement. The two girls, in addition to Sally-Anne
Perks, were chasers on the team.
"You guys, I'm serious. I just want everyone to go out there and do their best…"
Harry sighed as he peeked through the door out onto the field. Students had started
filing in, anxious to see the new teams, as they had been kept a secret. He saw Draco
Malfoy headed for one of the locker rooms, after having walked with Hermione, apparently.
"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Dean Thomas, who was now a Beater on the
team, along with Seamus Finnigan.
"Just thinking… You guys, they're calling us onto the field," said Harry.
Clad in green and silver, the Slytherins strutted onto the field first, and as Seeker
Draco walked in, he again looked up at the stands, anxiously scanning them. He could not
have possible been more anxious than he was. The Gryffindors were then announced once
all the Slytherins had walked onto the field.
He saw Potter and Weasley come out onto the field, and both nodded to him. So,
the plan would proceed. The players mounted their brooms, and the whistle blew. They
were off.
Collin Creevey was commentator for this game, a year younger than Harry et al, and
he took the job not much more seriously than his predecessor.
"And Slytherin has the Quaffle… It's Zabini with it, and oh, he can't get it into the
goal post… Gryffindor Keeper Ronald Weasley has it, passes it to Ginevra Weasley. My, I
must say she's looking nice today --"
"Creevey!" came the voice of McGonagall.
"Oh, right, sorry, Professor, won't happen again. Gryffindor scores!"
The Gryffindors erupted in cheers, and then hushed. Harry and Draco were both
diving.
"Seekers Potter and Malfoy are diving. Is that the snitch?"
Just then, a Bludger came towards Harry. He veered off course, taking Draco with
him.
"That was a dirty trick, Potter," he sneered, but then looked serious. "No sign of my
father yet?" he asked. Harry shook his head, and with that, he flew off, looking for the
snitch once more.
"Don't worry, Harry, I've got it," called Dean, as he launched the Bludger back at the
sender.
"…Warrington has the Quaffle again, and REJECTED! Weasley passes it to Brown…"
Before an hour of play, Gryffindor had scored one hundred ninety points, and the
Slytherins had a meager forty. Gryffindor's chasers were efficient, passing the Quaffle
constantly to confuse the Slytherins, and the Keeper was good, too, blocking nearly every
shot at the goals, with help from the beaters, launching Bludgers every chance they got.
"Slytherin beaters Crabbe and Goyle seem intent on knocking the Gryffindor Keeper
off his brooms, but they miss, and… they miss again!"
Madame Hooch started yelling. "You know you don't launch Bludgers at the Keeper
unless there is a scoring attempt, and the Quaffle is at the other side of the field!"
Frustrated, they decided to focus their energies on the Chasers, instead
"…Zabini intercepts. He's trying for a goal again, and REJECTED… Only two goals
for her this game... Jeeze, I hope all the guys don't treat her that way… Just kidding,
Professor… Weasley passes to Perks, Brown has it now… Intercepted by Montague, WHO
NEARLY KNOCKS HER OFF HER BROOM… WHY THAT DIRTY… Watch out for that Bludger,
Montague… OH YEAH! Nice shot Dean Thomas!! Taken from him by Brown, and she
SCORES! TWO HUNDRED TO FORTY, TAKE THAT SLYTHERIN SCUMBAGS!!"
Just then, Harry and Draco flew towards the Gryffindor goalposts, at breakneck
speed, each trying to outstrip the other. Everyone looked on, and the action on the field
ceased. They were going fast, like two blurs of red and green.
Harry reached forward, as he had many times before, but Draco was ahead of him
this time. Both crashed to the ground, and the blond Slytherin held a closed fist up high.
"What the?! MALFOY HAS THE SNITCH!? Erm... FINAL SCORE IS ONE
HUNDRED NINETY TO TWO HUNDRED, GRYFFINDOR WINS! SLYTHERIN GOT THE SNITCH,
BUT GRYFFINDOR WINS!!"
Up in the stands, Hermione turned to Pavarti Patil, who had been sitting next to her.
"Why did Malfoy get the Snitch, if he knew they were so far behind?" the girl with
her hair in a long plait asked.
Hermione sighed. "He wanted to end it on his terms. I don't think he really cared
who won, as long as he was able to prove that he could beat Harry..." she stopped, as
something moving across the lawns caught her eye. Looking up, there was a blond figure
approaching the field. She squinted, trying to get a better look. Her eyes then opened
wide; she could have recognized that person anywhere.
Hermione abruptly got up from her seat, running down to the field along the
bleachers, he actions not going unnoticed by two professors sitting in the Slytherin stands
across from her. It was time...
Author's Note
Yay!! Okay... tried to please everyone with that... Two chapters more 'till this
story's over... Please review and let me know what you think so far... Thanks for your
time.
E. Caddy Compson (persephoneia)
