A/N
Thank you so much to all my reviewers! Your kind comments are fuelling my enthusiasm for this project! Please keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing.
To my regular reviewers: Lourdes, kristyne, NightSpear, linky2, DemonAngi, Jaded Angel8, Lunawolf, Alisama2, David305, Gabriel4, Ikazo and Griemer-Ime. Your constructive criticism and constant support has been fantastic – I just wanted to let you all know how grateful I am.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing – it all belongs to JK Rowling.
**********************************************************************
Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, but with a chilly little wind blowing through the trees. Harry and Ron had been up since before sunrise, neither able to sleep. Going down to the common-room in their dressing-gowns just after six, they found the rest of the team already huddled there.
"I haven't slept a wink," muttered Colin Creevey, who was as pale as milk. "What if we duff it up?" Dennis didn't say a word, but had turned an interesting shade of green.
The time had come, Harry decided, for drastic measures. "Right, you lot!" he said briskly. "We're not going to panic. We've done all the practicing we need, and I have complete confidence in you. This is the best team that Gryffindor has had in years, and I know we're going to flatten Slytherin because they're overconfident and they've only got gorillas on their team. OK, everyone, go and get changed. We're going out for a quick flight, for fun – no more practicing."
Ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and warm sweaters, the team headed out to the Quidditch pitch. It was cool and the dew was lying thickly on the grass, the sun just peeping over the horizon. Mounting their brooms, they were soon swooping over the stands, performing loop-the-loops, chasing each other around and generally having a great time. After half an hour, Harry called a halt and they all touched back down. Breathless and exhilarated, they clattered into the Great Hall for breakfast.
"And I want you all to eat today, please!" Harry ordered. "No fainting because you haven't got anything in your stomachs."
"Don't eat too much either, though," muttered Ron. "The sight of Crabbe and Goyle on a broom is enough to make anyone lose their lunch."
The Slytherin team looked rather alarmed to see the Gryffindors in such high spirits. Soon, the rest of Gryffindor house filtered down to breakfast, and there was much backslapping and cheering. In contrast, there was a general silence at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. As they were first up, with their game starting at midmorning, they were extremely nervous.
Harry trotted over to the Ravenclaw table after breakfast. "Cho?" he said. "I just wanted to wish you good luck for today."
"Oh – thanks, Harry!" she said, surprised. "Um … good luck against Slytherin, too. I hear Malfoy's out to do some damage."
"I'd love to see him try," said Harry grimly. "Anyway – see you later!"
He grinned at her and turned to go. Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Ginny was staring at him, her eyes huge and hurt. Damn it! Harry thought. What's the bet she takes this the wrong way? He started to head towards her, but was blocked by a few over-eager Gryffindor second years, wanting to talk to him about his game strategy for the Slytherin match. By the time he got rid of them, Ginny was gone.
Swearing under his breath, he sprinted to the doors of the Great Hall, but there was no sign of Ginny anywhere. He sighed and started back up the stairs, only to be stopped by Hermione calling from below.
"How are you feeling?" she panted, catching him up. "Ready for action?"
"Well," Harry lowered his voice, "actually, I'm really nervous. I don't want to let the team see that, though. They need to think I'm super-confident."
"You've put in plenty of practice, haven't you?" said Hermione hesitantly.
"Practice is one thing – facing the Slytherins for real is a different story," said Harry. "Remember what a few rousing choruses of 'Weasley is our King' did to Ron last year?"
He caught her eye and they both started to laugh. "Poor Ron," spluttered Hermione. "D'you think they'll try that again?"
"Nope. It backfired spectacularly the last time they did," said Harry firmly. "But I wouldn't put it past them to try some really nasty fouls without being seen. I'm going to watch Malfoy like a hawk."
Harry sat with the rest of the team to watch the Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff match. Eventually losing patience with trying to catch Ginny's eye as she studiously avoided looking at him, he made Dennis Creevey budge up until he could squeeze in next to her.
"Hello," she said coolly, staring out at the pitch.
Harry mentally rolled his eyes. Women! he thought, irritated.
"I just wanted to let you know that there's nothing going on between me and Cho," he said in an undertone. "I just went over there to wish her good luck for today."
"Oh, really?" said Ginny distantly. "That was nice of you."
"I thought so," Harry said, gritting his teeth. "We decided to bury the hatchet the other day and try and be friends, so I thought it was a good start."
He started to get up, but Ginny put out her hand. "Sorry," she whispered guiltily. "I didn't mean … after last night, I just …"
Harry grinned at her. "Have some faith in me, will you?" She blushed slightly and smiled at him.
There was a roar from the crowd around them as the two teams sped onto the field, and the game began.
While the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams were reasonably good, Harry privately thought that neither of them showed the flair of the Gryffindor side. He could immediately see areas where Gryffindor would be able to take advantage of their weaknesses when they played them in future matches.
The match was over fairly quickly. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Summerby, caught the Snitch by accident when he fell off his broom trying to get away from a Bludger. The Snitch just happened to be hovering right where his flailing hands were, and he made a frantic grab at it as he plunged ten feet to the ground. Even a broken ankle couldn't stop him grinning and waving at the crowd in delight.
Lunch at the Gryffindor table was much more subdued than breakfast. Dennis Creevey looked appealingly at Harry. "Honestly, Harry, I can't eat a thing," he gulped. "I think I'm going to be sick …"
"No, you're not," said Hermione bracingly. "No matter what he tells you, Harry was also really nervous before his first match. Yes, you were!" she snapped at Harry, who was just about to object. "I remember. You didn't eat either, and you were fine."
The team gathered in the change rooms before the match began. "I'm not going to do the whole pep talk thing, it'll just make you more nervous," said Harry. "I know you're good, and so do you – and that's all there is to it. Get out there and show the Slytherins what Gryffindors are made of!"
They went out to the pitch and were greeted by tumultuous, ecstatic roars from three-quarters of the crowd. The north end of the pitch was a mass of green-wearing Slytherin supporters, but they were definitely in the minority. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had come out in full support of Gryffindor, and were even wearing scarlet and gold as a show of solidarity.
"And here comes the Gryffindor team!" boomed the Irish tones of Seamus Finnigan over the loudspeaker. "An outstanding bunch by all accounts, and a team full of siblings this year – Weasley, Weasley, Creevey, Creevey, Lovegood, Bell … aaaaaand Potter!"
The stadium erupted. The Slytherins, who had come onto the field first, were glaring mutinously in Seamus' direction. Obviously, they hadn't been given such a good send-up by the Gryffindor commentator.
"Right," said Madam Hooch briskly, standing by the Quidditch box. "I've said it before and I'll say it again – I want a clean game. Any nasty fouls and I'll come down on you like a Hippogriff on a Niffler. Got it, Malfoy? Potter?"
Harry looked into Malfoy's cold grey eyes and a shiver ran down his spine. Forcing himself to grin at him, Harry was satisfied to see Malfoy appear momentarily confused.
With a kick, Madam Hooch opened the box, released the Bludgers and the Snitch, and threw the Quaffle into the air. The game was on.
"And the Gryffindor Chasers take possession of the Quaffle immediately … they're shooting down off the field! AND WHAT AN ACTION THAT IS! LOOK AT THOSE BEAUTIES GO!" bellowed Seamus excitedly. "I've never seen anything like it! Those idiot Slytherins … sorry Professor … the opposition doesn't know what's hit them! AND LOOK AT THAT … Chaser Ginny Weasley scores! Ten points to Gryffindor, ten seconds into the game!"
If Harry hadn't been so thrilled with the immediate success of the Gryffindor Braid, he would have taken a few seconds to laugh at the Slytherins. As Seamus had pointed out, they didn't know what had hit them and were milling about in confusion. Thirty seconds later, Katie slotted a goal through the centre post, and within another minute, Luna had done the same. The crowd was going wild.
The game quickly turned into a joke – it was like taking sweets from a baby. By the time Malfoy and his gang had gathered their thoughts and were putting together some semblance of resistance, Gryffindor was up eighty points to nil. Malfoy was spitting like a cobra.
Waiting for Madam Hooch to throw up the Quaffle again, Goyle let his temper get the better of him. As a Bludger came his way, he swatted it straight at Katie Bell before the game had even started again. Not expecting it and looking the other way, the Bludger caught her squarely in the ribs and knocked her clean off her broomstick. With a shriek, she toppled over backwards and started falling to the ground, twenty feet below her.
Harry saw it happening like it was in slow motion. He sped towards her as fast as he could… almost there, almost there … he stretched out his arm as far as it would go and grabbed a handful of her robes. His arm was almost jerked out of its socket by the weight of her fall, and then, with a sickening ripping sound, her robe tore and she plummeted to the ground. Harry was left holding a tattered handful of scarlet and gold fabric.
There was a second's silence from the crowd, and then a roar of fury and shock washed across the stadium. Harry plunged downwards towards Katie, vaguely aware of Ron and Luna just behind him. Katie was lying in a tangle of limbs on the ground.
"Disgusting, despicable action by the Slytherin Beater!" howled Seamus.
"Finnigan …" warned Professor McGonagall half-heartedly.
"Well, it was, Professor! Hope Madam Hooch throws the book at him for this!"
Madam Hooch certainly did. She was still shrieking incoherently at Goyle five minutes later when Madam Pomfrey arrived with a stretcher. The Gryffindor team was gathered around Katie, who was still unconscious.
"Out of my way, out of my way," said Madam Pomfrey briskly. "Horrible sport, Quidditch. I always hate the start of season. Now let's see, what have we got here?"
She examined Katie briefly, then levitated her onto the stretcher.
"Will she be OK, Madam Pomfrey?" whispered Ginny.
"She'll be fine – looks like a bit of concussion, a few broken ribs and a broken arm. Nothing I can't fix!" said Madam Pomfrey. "Right, we'd best be off then."
Looking up at Malfoy, Harry was furious to see amusement on his face. In a second, his boiling rage turned to icy calm. He called the team around him.
"Right, so we're one Chaser down and that puts an end to the Gryffindor Braid," he said. Ginny was in tears. "Luna, Ginny – get the Quaffle when you can, but don't get in those morons' way, OK? They've just proven that they'll do anything to stop you. Colin, Dennis – send those Bludgers into them as often as possible. Ron, you're going to have to start earning your keep now because they'll be coming at goal as hard as they can."
"I don't know if we can carry on, Harry!" said Luna, shaken.
"Well, I'm damned well not going to just hand the game on a plate to Malfoy!" shouted Harry. She looked shocked. "Sorry, Luna – I'm just upset. Listen, just get up there and do your best. I'm going to try and find the Snitch as quickly as possible so we can get this over with."
They soared upwards, watching the Slytherins carefully. Madam Hooch awarded Gryffindor a penalty for Goyle's transgression, which Ginny took and promptly scored. One of the Slytherin Chasers took possession of the ball and streaked towards the Gryffindor end. However, a neat lob at a Bludger by Dennis nearly unseated him and he missed the post by good margin.
Casting around desperately for the Snitch, Harry soared upwards, higher and higher. He was very aware of Malfoy, who was tailing him closely, and wondered if he'd fall for a Wronsky Feint. He went into a steep dive, Malfoy not far behind. The crowd roared its approval, thinking that Harry had seen the Snitch.
And then, suddenly, he did see the Snitch. It was hovering a foot above Ron's right ear, and he was pretty sure that Malfoy hadn't seen it yet. Changing direction rapidly, he bulleted towards Ron, lying almost flat along the handle of his Firebolt.
Ron suddenly spotted Harry coming straight at him. His eyes got bigger and bigger until he looked like a deer caught in headlights on a dark country road.
"Get out of the way, you idiot!" yelled Harry, increasing his speed to shake off Malfoy.
Ron dived … just in time. Harry shot over his head with a few inches to spare and grabbed the Snitch. Unable to stop himself because he was going so fast, he flew straight through the centre hoop.
The watching crowd went berserk. "And Potter gets the Snitch in the most spectacular catch I've ever seen!" screamed Seamus, beside himself with joy. "Gryffindor wins – two hundred and forty to zero!"
Harry sped back into the stadium, holding the struggling Snitch high above his head. As he passed a livid Malfoy, he shouted: "So – who's been cleaned up, then, Malfoy?" The next thing he knew, he was being hit by five scarlet and gold blurs and they were drifting gently to the ground.