Ch 4

Despite the display of nonchalance, my stomach had plummeted to the soles of my feet with no indication of making the return trip. It was the atmosphere that caused it.

This was the first Slytherin and Gryffindor final since the infamous Charlie Weasley from Gryffindor left school last year, and this was my first Quidditch match for a House that I cared little for in the first place.

I mused on the irony for a moment.

When the Sorting Hat drew up the Slytherin House for choice, no one could have been more upset about the decision than me. I argued, pleaded and generally refused to cooperate with the authorities until they could change the House. Raised in a part muggle family, I wanted nothing whatsoever to do with a house noted primarily for its most infamous son, Lord Voldermort and I told them so.

Professor Snape was particularly annoyed about the fuss that I had created but no amount of stern lecturing helped to alter the view that as far as the raffle draw of Fate was concerned, I had drawn a dud.

Then again, maybe today's match was a sign of good things to come. As Dorchester pointed out, this was a rare opportunity to play and I was determined to make the most of it.

The whistle blew, and we were off. At least the broom was.

My hands flailed blindly for several moments as my seat lifted off the ground and I soared in the air. At last, about 5 feet off the ground I lunged forward and made contact with the stick before me and then understood. There was a kick- start jinx on the broom. A last minute trick courtesy Flavius "Rat-face' Trent!

Shock mingled with anger as I turned the broom around to the stands where Trent had disappeared.

On the speed of emotion, I zoomed down. I should have known better!

So that was why he waited and I fell for it. It was just like him to leave a reminder of last year's terrifying episode. I could just make out Trents astonished expression as I gained speed to rush him in the stands before a loud cry stopped my heart.

The snitch was spotted.

I hovered in the air, distraught with quick decision-making. Throttling young Trent presented a tempting vision, but with it would come the regrettable urgency to kick myself for passing up the chance of actually winning this game.

Gritting my teeth, I turned the Cumulous 800 around and sped upwards instead of towards the direction of the cry.

From that vantage point, I saw my target: Chloe Gordon.

A talented seeker on Gryffindor's team, but as previous game practices had shown, with a tendency to botch up the policy of silence and discretion. In short, she always blurted out the first sighting of the snitch with a loud shriek.

I made a hyperbola and shot vertically downwards with the intention of cutting off Gordon, but I miscalculated by a few inches and had to steer sharply over the crowd's heads on the opposite stand. The whistle blew and I flew over to Madam Hooch for the verdict of going off-side.

Before she could start, I cut in with a hurried explanation of the jinx that was placed on the broom. After a few quick flicks of her wand to verify my story, the reading for jinx tampering showed positive.

With a sigh of relief I turned back to resume the game.

Fortunately, the snitch had also disappeared, leaving Gordon empty handed.

"..It's gone! gone without a trace!! and a close one for Gryffindor...oh and for Slytherin as well. Now - it's Slytherin's DePore tackling Pater from Gryffindor with fellow Beater Sawyers bringing up the rear and he's taking aim at.. No, no he's changing direction...he's going the other way, he's.."

A furious Geoffrey Sawyers from Gryffindor shot a passing bludger in my direction and succeeded in grazing my left ear. The pain sent the sting of tears to my eyes and my hands gripping the rough shape of the broom shook slightly with the return of building anger.

"Ouch!! And there's Madam Hooch with the whistle...what can I say Tabitha Meadowes, you must be smarting from that one..."

Of course, it was completely natural if stupid for Sawyers to stand up for his girl friend but it would take more than chip shots to reduce my determination for a victory.

If I wanted a victory, that is...

I swept my way above the players and watched the world below.