Sorry about the wait.
Michele
Chapter Four
Game on.
The continuous pacing back and forth along the side of his bed woke Harry from his what would have been deep sleep. The padding that relentlessly shot through his ears was penetrating his dreams so that Harry's dream contained an overly large polar bear that was circling him playing a miniscule base drum. Sitting up slowly, he pulled his hangings back to find Ron pacing back and forth reading Quidditch Through The Ages.
"What time is it Ron?" He asked sleepily, pulling the hangings back fully and attaching them to the bedposts.
"It's almost seven am." Ron replied hysterically. Harry groaned and fell back onto his pillow, pulling his covers over his head to dull out the sound of Ron pacing in front of his bed, but as he drifted off, the polar bear was back, taunting him with the tiny drum.
When Harry next awoke, it was just after nine. Pulling on a jeans and T-shirt, he stuffed his wand in his back pocket and made his way down to the Great Hall. The air was practically buzzing with energy when Harry walked through the doors into the Hall. The tables were as full as they would have been on a weekday, people chatting and eating enthusiastically, all anxious of the outcome of the game. At the end of the Gryffindor table, Harry noticed Fred and George Weasley sitting opposite a rather terrified looking Ron. Grinning and shaking his head, Harry took a seat next to his best friend.
"Harry!" Fred grinned. "How are you feeling?"
"Hopefully not as bad as Ronnie here!" George chipped in. "Looks like he's eaten a puking pastille."
"You didn't slip one in his cornflakes did you?" Fred asked, turning to George mockingly.
"Actually..." Ron looked up from his cereal, horrified at the idea, but Fred and George just laughed.
"Course we didn't!" Fred smirked. "Wouldn't do that to you little bro!"
They ate in silence, Fred and George receiving many grins and pats on the back for their departure the year before from nearly everyone who passed them. Lee joined them just as Harry was finishing his toast. Lee stretched and cracked his knuckles.
"Feels good to be commentating again." He chortled.
"What are you talking about? You are commentating for National games!" George retorted, making Lee grin.
"Yeah, but the ref's are so strict, that it's impossible to have fun. Old Madam Hooch is about as blind as a bat... she doesn't see half the fouls that go on. It's a lot more fun." Lee replied, grinning devilishly.
"How's business, guys?" Harry asked lightly, pouring himself some Pumpkin juice.
"Can't complain. We get some good money doing it." Fred explained.
"Of course, we're getting a lot of offers for some of our tricks. I mean Zonko's offered us fifty galleons for the recipe for our skiving Snackboxes." George continued. "We said no obviously. They make us almost double that a month from sales."
"We'd better go." Ron commented slowly. Harry nodded, following Ron out of the Hall and down to the Quidditch stadium into the Gryffindor changing rooms.
When the rest of the team were down and changed, Ron went to give a pre game speech, but instead of talking, he just grinned and stood up straight to look as if he wasn't scared. Harry however, knew Ron was feeling as sick as he was, and his stomach was getting into a tightly tied knot.
"And welcome to you all on this excellent day for a game of Quidditch. Coming onto the pitch, we have our four teams. The Gryffindor's led by Ron Weasley, the fourth Weasley brother to have donned that uniform, the second Weasley brother to have captained the team. The Slytherins are led by Montague, big bugger he is."
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor. The Hufflepuffs are led by Smith, only been on the team two years, but he's the one that's lasted longest without Slytherin beating him to a pulp, so well done there Smith. Ravenclaw are, as last year; captained by Roger Davies. Still on form I hope Roger." Harry saw Roger turn and give Lee and grin. "Excellent"
All four captains shook hands with each other as everyone mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch checked around that everyone was ready, and blew her silver whistle.
"And they're off!" The familiar booming voice of Lee Jordan over the commentator's microphone sent a warm feeling to Harry's stomach, despite the biting November wind as he rose up into the air. "This should be a very difficult and interesting match. For those of you who have forgotten what Dumbledore said last week, we haven't had one of these games for ten years and it will be the only game in Hogwarts this year, so all of you players, we want a good game!"
"Hey scarhead," Draco Malfoy called angrily from a few metres away. "You might as well pack up and get off the pitch. Your rat pack doesn't have a chance."
"Fuck off Ferret Boy, or I'll take a leaf out of Moody's book and bounce you from here to next week!" Harry snarled. Draco's grey eyes narrowed dangerously, his face turning slightly pink with embarrassment.
"You're not going anywhere Potter. You, Weasley and Granger have had too much of the glory so far. It's time for Slytherin to take the lead." With that, Draco flew off across the pitch in search of the Snitch. Within seconds, Cho Chang was floating beside him
"Ignore Malfoy." She commented, her eyes scanning the pitch. "He's just bitter because he knows he won't get Seeker."
"Yeah" Harry replied absently, watching the Chasers and Beaters zoom every which way around the pitch. When Cho Chang realised Harry wasn't hanging on her every word, she huffed loudly and flew off towards the Ravenclaw section.
"Gryffindor with the Quaffle going for the Hufflepuff area. Ginny Weasley with the Quaffle, make your brother's proud Gin! NO! A Blunder from Goyle makes her drop it! Hufflepuff with the ball, wait Ravenclaw, now Hufflepuff. What's going on? The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff chasers are working together heading for Gryffindor. Surely that isn't aloud!" Lee was roaring over the microphone, all the beaters streaming towards the Gryffindor hoops where Ron was waiting, his eyes darting to follow the Quaffle change hands every few seconds.
"Ravenclaw shoots..." A collective intake of breath from everyone in the stands signalled the shot, but as Ron diver towards the left hoop, he batted the flying Quaffle down to Jack Sloper who used his Beater bat to whack the Quaffle all the way over to the Slytherin are, causing Harry to punch the air happily and the entire Gryffindor stand to erupt into a rendition of 'Weasley is our King'.
Looking over, Harry watched as Draco scowled murderously at the cheering Gryffindor spectators and flew down to Goyle, muttering something in his ear before Goyle, bat raised, flew off in Ron's direction. Desperate to stop Ron from being a new Blunder for Goyle to hit, Harry pelted down towards the ground at the base of the Hufflepuff goals.
"HARRY'S SEEN THE SNITCH!" Lee roared over the microphone. Every eye now rested on Harry and the other seekers as they all zoomed towards the ground, Malfoy, Cho and Summerby all chasing Harry trying to edge in front of him. The raced at neck-break speed, wind rushing loudly through Harry's ears. Inches from the ground, Harry grabbed the middle pole with both arms, swinging around it horizontally and zooming off in the other direction past the other three seekers. Harry looked back to see Malfoy and Cho pull up just in time, but with an ear-splitting yell, Summerby went pelting into the side of the stands, hitting his head and falling off his broom onto the floor.
Harry was glad he had brought them so close to the ground as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and three teachers came running out of the stands to care to Summerby. Harry flew over to Ron, who was hovering just in front of the middle hoop, watching the proceedings curiously.
"Hey." Harry commented, coming up to float next to him.
"Mate, are you mad? They could book you for that! It's a foul to feint."
"I'd rather be put on warning than have your head as a Blunder. I saw Malfoy mutter something to Goyle before Goyle came flying in your direction." Harry explained. Ron stared blankly at Harry for a second before gaping like a stunned goldfish.
"Oh, well thanks mate!" He gawped. "Great feint by the way." Harry grinned excitedly.
"Thanks."
Madam Hooch blew her whistle when Summerby has been woken up and had kicked off again, and the Quaffle was thrown back into the air, caught by Hailey Penter as she soared around the centre of the pitch.
"What the hell is she doing?" Lee's voice rang. "Penter, you're going the wrong way!" Harry spun around on his broom to see Hailey Penter flying very deliberately towards the Gryffindor posts, nine Chasers from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin streaking after her.
"SHE DROPS IT!" Harry watched in slow motion as the Quaffle fell from Hailey's hands, but a streak of fire red hair zooming in the other direction shot past, snatching up the Quaffle and hurtling towards the Slytherin posts.
"I can't believe it! Fabulous tactics from the Gryffindor team! The others have no chance of catching Weasley!" He was right, by the time the other chasers had even realised what had happened, Ginny was entering the Slytherin scoring zone.
"She's past Crabbe and Goyle, those two dunces couldn't stop her anyway." Professor McGonagall made no protests to Lee's insults; Harry could see her jumping up and down screaming Ginny on. "She shoots... SHE SCORES! Gryffindor are first off the mark!" The sound from the Gryffindor stands was almost deafening. There were screams and shouts of glee, while the other three stands were booing angrily. Harry was flying in circles happily, catching a glimpse of Fred and George Weasley jumping up and down screaming at the top of their lungs.
"THAT'S OUR SISTER!" They were screaming ecstatically.
"Right, it's Davies for Ravenclaw with the Quaffle, now Smith for Hufflepuff, now Davies.... Oh not this again! Let's get this straight boys, you play for DIFFERENT TEAMS!" Lee was yelling angrily over the microphone. In the background, Harry could hear Professor McGonagall yelling angrily about the joining of two teams. Harry chuckled, glancing around the stands when he saw it.
The Snitch was fluttering right in the middle of the right hand Ravenclaw hoop. Gripping the handle of his Firebolt tightly, he raced forward, ducking in and out of the Chasers and Beaters. He turned to see Draco Malfoy hot on his tail, trying to edge his way forward. Harry zigzagged between the players as he raced closer and closer to the Snitch. Stretching out his hand, he flew straight at the hoop, realising only too late that he wouldn't get through it at that height.
'THWACK!' The entire stadium groaned. The broom went under the hoop, his head through it, and his middle went slap bang into the golden hoop. Just hanging onto his broom with his legs clamped around the wood, his hand closed over the struggling Snitch, Madam Hooch blew her silver whistle.
"GRYFFINDOR ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY POINTS, EVERYONE ELSE ZERO!" Lee boomed. The Gryffindor stands were jumping up and down, the entire stadium vibrating from all the feet stamping. "Poor Harry!" Lee called suddenly. "You alright?" Harry, both arms clasped around the hoop to stop himself falling, grinned happily at Lee. Within seconds, Ron and Ginny were at Harry's sides, getting his broom back under him so he could slide back onto it and fly back down to the ground.
"Harry," Ron breathed as they placed their feet firmly on the ground, "that looked..." He grimaced. "Painful!" Holding one arm across his stomach to try and wrench in the pain, Harry grinned.
"We won." Harry murmured happily. "Ron we fucking won!"
The screaming and chanting quickly cut off their conversation as the entire Quidditch team were hoisted onto the shoulders of the Gryffindor supporters, carrying them up to the castle where, in the common room, they didn't stop celebrating until Professor McGonagall showed up accompanied by Remus Lupin at three in the morning, with an unusually large grin plastered to her face, telling them they would all have detention scrubbing the Quidditch Stadium with toothbrushes if they didn't get to bed.
Michele
Chapter Four
Game on.
The continuous pacing back and forth along the side of his bed woke Harry from his what would have been deep sleep. The padding that relentlessly shot through his ears was penetrating his dreams so that Harry's dream contained an overly large polar bear that was circling him playing a miniscule base drum. Sitting up slowly, he pulled his hangings back to find Ron pacing back and forth reading Quidditch Through The Ages.
"What time is it Ron?" He asked sleepily, pulling the hangings back fully and attaching them to the bedposts.
"It's almost seven am." Ron replied hysterically. Harry groaned and fell back onto his pillow, pulling his covers over his head to dull out the sound of Ron pacing in front of his bed, but as he drifted off, the polar bear was back, taunting him with the tiny drum.
When Harry next awoke, it was just after nine. Pulling on a jeans and T-shirt, he stuffed his wand in his back pocket and made his way down to the Great Hall. The air was practically buzzing with energy when Harry walked through the doors into the Hall. The tables were as full as they would have been on a weekday, people chatting and eating enthusiastically, all anxious of the outcome of the game. At the end of the Gryffindor table, Harry noticed Fred and George Weasley sitting opposite a rather terrified looking Ron. Grinning and shaking his head, Harry took a seat next to his best friend.
"Harry!" Fred grinned. "How are you feeling?"
"Hopefully not as bad as Ronnie here!" George chipped in. "Looks like he's eaten a puking pastille."
"You didn't slip one in his cornflakes did you?" Fred asked, turning to George mockingly.
"Actually..." Ron looked up from his cereal, horrified at the idea, but Fred and George just laughed.
"Course we didn't!" Fred smirked. "Wouldn't do that to you little bro!"
They ate in silence, Fred and George receiving many grins and pats on the back for their departure the year before from nearly everyone who passed them. Lee joined them just as Harry was finishing his toast. Lee stretched and cracked his knuckles.
"Feels good to be commentating again." He chortled.
"What are you talking about? You are commentating for National games!" George retorted, making Lee grin.
"Yeah, but the ref's are so strict, that it's impossible to have fun. Old Madam Hooch is about as blind as a bat... she doesn't see half the fouls that go on. It's a lot more fun." Lee replied, grinning devilishly.
"How's business, guys?" Harry asked lightly, pouring himself some Pumpkin juice.
"Can't complain. We get some good money doing it." Fred explained.
"Of course, we're getting a lot of offers for some of our tricks. I mean Zonko's offered us fifty galleons for the recipe for our skiving Snackboxes." George continued. "We said no obviously. They make us almost double that a month from sales."
"We'd better go." Ron commented slowly. Harry nodded, following Ron out of the Hall and down to the Quidditch stadium into the Gryffindor changing rooms.
When the rest of the team were down and changed, Ron went to give a pre game speech, but instead of talking, he just grinned and stood up straight to look as if he wasn't scared. Harry however, knew Ron was feeling as sick as he was, and his stomach was getting into a tightly tied knot.
"And welcome to you all on this excellent day for a game of Quidditch. Coming onto the pitch, we have our four teams. The Gryffindor's led by Ron Weasley, the fourth Weasley brother to have donned that uniform, the second Weasley brother to have captained the team. The Slytherins are led by Montague, big bugger he is."
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor. The Hufflepuffs are led by Smith, only been on the team two years, but he's the one that's lasted longest without Slytherin beating him to a pulp, so well done there Smith. Ravenclaw are, as last year; captained by Roger Davies. Still on form I hope Roger." Harry saw Roger turn and give Lee and grin. "Excellent"
All four captains shook hands with each other as everyone mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch checked around that everyone was ready, and blew her silver whistle.
"And they're off!" The familiar booming voice of Lee Jordan over the commentator's microphone sent a warm feeling to Harry's stomach, despite the biting November wind as he rose up into the air. "This should be a very difficult and interesting match. For those of you who have forgotten what Dumbledore said last week, we haven't had one of these games for ten years and it will be the only game in Hogwarts this year, so all of you players, we want a good game!"
"Hey scarhead," Draco Malfoy called angrily from a few metres away. "You might as well pack up and get off the pitch. Your rat pack doesn't have a chance."
"Fuck off Ferret Boy, or I'll take a leaf out of Moody's book and bounce you from here to next week!" Harry snarled. Draco's grey eyes narrowed dangerously, his face turning slightly pink with embarrassment.
"You're not going anywhere Potter. You, Weasley and Granger have had too much of the glory so far. It's time for Slytherin to take the lead." With that, Draco flew off across the pitch in search of the Snitch. Within seconds, Cho Chang was floating beside him
"Ignore Malfoy." She commented, her eyes scanning the pitch. "He's just bitter because he knows he won't get Seeker."
"Yeah" Harry replied absently, watching the Chasers and Beaters zoom every which way around the pitch. When Cho Chang realised Harry wasn't hanging on her every word, she huffed loudly and flew off towards the Ravenclaw section.
"Gryffindor with the Quaffle going for the Hufflepuff area. Ginny Weasley with the Quaffle, make your brother's proud Gin! NO! A Blunder from Goyle makes her drop it! Hufflepuff with the ball, wait Ravenclaw, now Hufflepuff. What's going on? The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff chasers are working together heading for Gryffindor. Surely that isn't aloud!" Lee was roaring over the microphone, all the beaters streaming towards the Gryffindor hoops where Ron was waiting, his eyes darting to follow the Quaffle change hands every few seconds.
"Ravenclaw shoots..." A collective intake of breath from everyone in the stands signalled the shot, but as Ron diver towards the left hoop, he batted the flying Quaffle down to Jack Sloper who used his Beater bat to whack the Quaffle all the way over to the Slytherin are, causing Harry to punch the air happily and the entire Gryffindor stand to erupt into a rendition of 'Weasley is our King'.
Looking over, Harry watched as Draco scowled murderously at the cheering Gryffindor spectators and flew down to Goyle, muttering something in his ear before Goyle, bat raised, flew off in Ron's direction. Desperate to stop Ron from being a new Blunder for Goyle to hit, Harry pelted down towards the ground at the base of the Hufflepuff goals.
"HARRY'S SEEN THE SNITCH!" Lee roared over the microphone. Every eye now rested on Harry and the other seekers as they all zoomed towards the ground, Malfoy, Cho and Summerby all chasing Harry trying to edge in front of him. The raced at neck-break speed, wind rushing loudly through Harry's ears. Inches from the ground, Harry grabbed the middle pole with both arms, swinging around it horizontally and zooming off in the other direction past the other three seekers. Harry looked back to see Malfoy and Cho pull up just in time, but with an ear-splitting yell, Summerby went pelting into the side of the stands, hitting his head and falling off his broom onto the floor.
Harry was glad he had brought them so close to the ground as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and three teachers came running out of the stands to care to Summerby. Harry flew over to Ron, who was hovering just in front of the middle hoop, watching the proceedings curiously.
"Hey." Harry commented, coming up to float next to him.
"Mate, are you mad? They could book you for that! It's a foul to feint."
"I'd rather be put on warning than have your head as a Blunder. I saw Malfoy mutter something to Goyle before Goyle came flying in your direction." Harry explained. Ron stared blankly at Harry for a second before gaping like a stunned goldfish.
"Oh, well thanks mate!" He gawped. "Great feint by the way." Harry grinned excitedly.
"Thanks."
Madam Hooch blew her whistle when Summerby has been woken up and had kicked off again, and the Quaffle was thrown back into the air, caught by Hailey Penter as she soared around the centre of the pitch.
"What the hell is she doing?" Lee's voice rang. "Penter, you're going the wrong way!" Harry spun around on his broom to see Hailey Penter flying very deliberately towards the Gryffindor posts, nine Chasers from Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin streaking after her.
"SHE DROPS IT!" Harry watched in slow motion as the Quaffle fell from Hailey's hands, but a streak of fire red hair zooming in the other direction shot past, snatching up the Quaffle and hurtling towards the Slytherin posts.
"I can't believe it! Fabulous tactics from the Gryffindor team! The others have no chance of catching Weasley!" He was right, by the time the other chasers had even realised what had happened, Ginny was entering the Slytherin scoring zone.
"She's past Crabbe and Goyle, those two dunces couldn't stop her anyway." Professor McGonagall made no protests to Lee's insults; Harry could see her jumping up and down screaming Ginny on. "She shoots... SHE SCORES! Gryffindor are first off the mark!" The sound from the Gryffindor stands was almost deafening. There were screams and shouts of glee, while the other three stands were booing angrily. Harry was flying in circles happily, catching a glimpse of Fred and George Weasley jumping up and down screaming at the top of their lungs.
"THAT'S OUR SISTER!" They were screaming ecstatically.
"Right, it's Davies for Ravenclaw with the Quaffle, now Smith for Hufflepuff, now Davies.... Oh not this again! Let's get this straight boys, you play for DIFFERENT TEAMS!" Lee was yelling angrily over the microphone. In the background, Harry could hear Professor McGonagall yelling angrily about the joining of two teams. Harry chuckled, glancing around the stands when he saw it.
The Snitch was fluttering right in the middle of the right hand Ravenclaw hoop. Gripping the handle of his Firebolt tightly, he raced forward, ducking in and out of the Chasers and Beaters. He turned to see Draco Malfoy hot on his tail, trying to edge his way forward. Harry zigzagged between the players as he raced closer and closer to the Snitch. Stretching out his hand, he flew straight at the hoop, realising only too late that he wouldn't get through it at that height.
'THWACK!' The entire stadium groaned. The broom went under the hoop, his head through it, and his middle went slap bang into the golden hoop. Just hanging onto his broom with his legs clamped around the wood, his hand closed over the struggling Snitch, Madam Hooch blew her silver whistle.
"GRYFFINDOR ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY POINTS, EVERYONE ELSE ZERO!" Lee boomed. The Gryffindor stands were jumping up and down, the entire stadium vibrating from all the feet stamping. "Poor Harry!" Lee called suddenly. "You alright?" Harry, both arms clasped around the hoop to stop himself falling, grinned happily at Lee. Within seconds, Ron and Ginny were at Harry's sides, getting his broom back under him so he could slide back onto it and fly back down to the ground.
"Harry," Ron breathed as they placed their feet firmly on the ground, "that looked..." He grimaced. "Painful!" Holding one arm across his stomach to try and wrench in the pain, Harry grinned.
"We won." Harry murmured happily. "Ron we fucking won!"
The screaming and chanting quickly cut off their conversation as the entire Quidditch team were hoisted onto the shoulders of the Gryffindor supporters, carrying them up to the castle where, in the common room, they didn't stop celebrating until Professor McGonagall showed up accompanied by Remus Lupin at three in the morning, with an unusually large grin plastered to her face, telling them they would all have detention scrubbing the Quidditch Stadium with toothbrushes if they didn't get to bed.