CHAPTER 20

Over the next two weeks, Harry did four things: practice quidditch, study for finals, classes, and elemental lessons. So far he was able to shift rock, water and fire, move wind, and bring lightning and shadow.

Ron drove the team to its limits. He kept urging them to try new, complex drills, or suggesting that they come to unscheduled practices. More than once a team member got angry with Ron's persistence. However, not many people dared to blow up near the captain.

Ron had taken his Prefect duties to new heights, and had broken up quite a few arguments and fights, and now had younger students asking him for advice. He also began to enforce the rules of quiet time in the evenings, and even threatened to tell McGonagall when a group of third years started talking too loudly while others were studying. Even after that, many of the younger students from all houseswent to Ron if there was a problem, knowing that he'd be fair.

Hermione and Ginny were the most concerned about the upcoming tests, and although Alex had as many classes as Hermione, she remained calm, helping others out. "I've already taken tests similar to NEWTs," she told Harry when he asked, "So I'm not worried."

Harry was similar, but he was still slightly anxious to get them over with, he wanted his vacation! I get to do magic outside of school this summer, he realized, legally too. The thought of all the magic he'd used last summer made him grin.

The only day Harry had any free time was today, and today was the quidditch final. Once the team had changed, they met in another room for Ron's pep talk. Ron waited until everyone was seated then began.

"Alright, this is it: the last game of the season. We've had a great year and we've yet to loose a game, there's no need to make this one it. This team is one of the best Gryffindor's ever had, if not the best. Professor McGonagall said so herself. But what she says doesn't matter. What does matter is that you know that. Everyone else's thoughts can be thrown out the bloody window for all I care. We've trained hard, played fair, and had fun—but most importantly of all: we—are—a—team.

"We've got the best bloody teamwork of all the houses. Better than Hufflepuff, better than Ravenclaw, and better than Slytherin. Now, we aren't going to go out there all cocky; we aren't going to go out there to rub it in the other team's face; and we aren't going to go out there as just Gryffindors. We're going to go out there as fair quidditch players, as friends, and as a team. Now let's keep that cup and play!" The team cheered and Ron led them out onto the pitch.

It was a cloudless, windless, and sunny day—near perfect conditions. Madame Hooch stood in the center and the two teams to their positions. Ron and Draco shook hands then they all mounted their brooms. Once Madame Hooch released the bludgers & the snitch, threw the quaffle, and blew her whistle, the game began.

Harry instantly resumed his post high above the game. He was to catch the snitch as soon as possible and not spend time watching out for his teammates—they'd take care of themselves be any means necessary. Ignoring both the read and green-clad players, Harry listened to Alex's commentary so he could know what was going on while he searched.

"Weasley passes to Dirkle, who doubles back, dodges a bludger, passes to Weasley. She shoots and—she scores! Slytherin takes possession of the quaffle. Goyle and Crabbe fend off the bludgers sent by Abercrombie and Longbottom. Parkinson flies towards the goals, prepares to shoot—and Mellot steals the quaffle! She avoids a bludger, drops the quaffle, Weasley takes it, passes to Dirkle, Dirkle shoots, and scores! Twenty-zero, to Gryffindor!" There was an explosion of cheers from the stands, Harry clapped.

"Slytherin chaser Sarch passes to Lunt, who makes a breakaway down the pitch. Goyle covers him by sending a bludger towards Dirkle, Dirkle avoids, Lunt shoots—but Captain Weasley saves it! Weasley passes to Weasley. She passes to Mellot. Longbottom blocks the oncoming bludger; Mellot passes it backwards to Dirkle. Dirkle shoots, and scores again!" The Slytherins shouted with outrage while the Gryffindors cheered wildly.

An hour into the game and the Slytherin team still hadn't made a goal. The Slytherin players began to get more than simply annoyed when Ginny scored Gryffindor's eighth goal, and then the game got rougher.

Crabbe and Goyle never seemed to stop hitting bludgers towards the opposing chasers and when that didn't work, they occasionally hit the Gryffindor chasers on 'accident.' Several penalties were awarded to Gryffindor, but they hadn't made any of the shots—they were too angry.

Harry forced himself to remain calm, otherwise a storm would appear. It got harder as the Slytherin team played dirtier. After three hours total, Ron called a time out.

Ginny had a sprained ankle from getting knocked off her broom, and Neville's hands were blistered; but the other team members were fine. "They're trying to wear us down," Ron told them, "We can't let that happen. Just keep the quaffle in our possession; keep passing it and don't shoot unless you're sure you can make it. Let's try to save our energy, then go out with a bang! Got it?" They nodded. "Good, let's play!"

The team went back into the air and their chasers began to use the 'splinters' tactic again as they had in a previous game. Harry, meanwhile, began to do laps around the pitch, searching for the glint of gold that was the walnut-sized snitch.

Slytherin finally scored a goal after another half-hour and they gained new confidence as 'Weasley Is Our King' thundered from the Slytherin spectators; Ron blocked their next three shots.

Jackie and Elise assisted each other in the next two goals and Ginny faked a punch, causing Pansy to shriek and drop the quaffle. They'd been playing for five hours now, and the Gryffindor team was visibly tired. Ron let two more goals slip past him, and Neville and Euan's hits didn't have as much power behind them.

The Slytherins were the exact opposite. Since they hadn't been trying to avoid bludgers and players as much, they were practically full of energy. Harry and Ron were probably the only two who weren't exhausted, but Ron would be soon if the match didn't end soon.

Harry continued to do laps until he saw it, the snitch, fluttering near the Ravenclaw stand. He checked over his shoulder for Draco and sped towards it.

The snitch darted away when he was only a few feet from it, but he kept it in his sight. It jerked in different directions but Harry kept close on its tail. The snitch led him through a series of sharp angled twists, and a trail of loops, dives, and oncoming bludgers and players.

Draco dropped out of nowhere ahead of him, and Harry urged his broom to greater speeds. Once he'd gained a lead, the snitch sped up too. More obstacles got in their way, but Harry didn't dare loose sight of it, not when they were so close.

Draco whistled and the entire Slytherin team began to fly towards Harry—he was going to crash even with the snitch only a few feet away. Harry thought about a move Godric had showed him, but he'd never really tried it. But it might be exactly what he needed to do.

Harry braced himself and jumped off his broom and over Goyle who was in front of him. He stretched out a hand and grabbed the winged-snitch as he fell. The whistle blew as the wind screamed through Harry's ears. With a painful thud, he landed on a broom.

"Honestly Potter," Malfoy drawled sarcastically, "Do you always have to show off? And it's one person to a broom."

Harry laughed, so did Draco. Gryffindor had won the game.

The Gryffindor team had their photo taken with the large silver cup and they celebrated well into the night too. Ron and Hermione almost abandoned their Prefect duties completely, but in the end halted the party so others could sleep. Harry proposed an idea to his housemates that surprised them but then they agreed. Harry's dreams replayed the quidditch match that night.

The next morning at breakfast, the entire Gryffindor house got there before all others. When the other houses came in, the Gryffindors burst into applause. Some of the Ravenclaws laughed, the Hufflepuffs smiled, and the Slytherins looked slightly shocked and confused, while a few amoung their number bowed.

"Here's to you guys!" Ron shouted, "For bein' great sports!"

"What? No prize?" Draco asked sarcastically; the others laughed while the professors shared surprised looks and Dumbledore smiled.

Coming Up:

Finals

Then:

School Year's End

(A/N: Thank you for your comments, questions and advice in your reviews. And thank you, as always, for taking the time to read this story. A.S.Leif)