Warning: MARY SUE + QUIDDITCH LOOK AWAY.
Disclaimer: JKR. Not mine. Got it?
Chapter Seven: Swing Batter, Batter!
In what seemed like no time, it was the almost the end of October. Needless to say, Uncle Jack was less than pleased about my :ahem: adjustments to Hogwarts life. He warned me that it wasn't too late to drag me out of there and stick me in some Muggle school in London. He wrote back and told me that he had talked to Aunt Sarah—or rather, her lawyer had. Apparently, she's found some time to think about her old family and bothered to track down a lawyer to serve Uncle Jack with divorce papers. Ouch. Not just for Uncle Jack, but for me, too. I mean, I'm her own blood for Merlin's sake! Okay, so she was a little resentful that my mom was magic and she wasn't, but she was never really spiteful to me about it. It was more like, "I know you're magic just like your parents and I'll support you, but I'm going to secretly brood about it in my own way." The more I thought about the trouble I was getting into the more I realized that it was not what Uncle Jack needed to be hearing right then. So for a while I kept my head down and boiled over with rage in my own quite, teeth-grinding way. Maybe if I kept my mouth shut for once I could stay out of trouble for more than two days straight. It seemed like a good enough plan and I actually made it stick for nearly a month.
Nearly.
It started on a Saturday. Quidditch day—Gryffindor was in second running behind Slytherin. I'd started sitting with Hermione in the Gryffindor stands after I found out I didn't make the cut for Beater. Harry and Ron said they put up a fight for me, but it was Angelina who ultimately didn't want some kind of "violence-prone yank stirring up trouble on the team". WRONG! That's exactly what kind of person you need slinging Bludgers at the other team. Secretly, I wondered if my old team back home had mailed anything to Angelina. So there I was, wrapped up in my little black cloak and scarlet and gold scarf sitting like a goon on the Gryffindor sidelines.
"Cheer up, Reggie," Hermione said, "There are worse things than not getting picked for a team."
I was sulking with my head resting on my arms, which were crossed over the railing, "Yeah, I know. It just feels like I'm still being singled out for being a Yank and all."
"You are," Hermione said, matter-of-factly, "but I wouldn't worry about it. Like I said, it could be worse. You could be getting hexed in the hallways."
I sighed. Hermione was right. I supposed it just had to do with wanting to get back on a broom again. There aren't many places to go flying in New York. Every few weeks I would beg my aunt and uncle to take me up to this wizard park in Upstate New York where I could fly and do some intramural Quidditch games. Sure, every so often you'd have someone get busted for playing chicken with a subway train, but you could hardly blame them. With all the Muggle and magic integrated technology you still couldn't find a safe haven for flying. Harry had been nice enough to take me out to the field and let me ride around on his Firebolt a few times. I think it was because he knew what it was like wanting to fly around and not be able to. Harry and Ron were upset when I didn't make the team—it was really sort of flattering.
" 'Mione! Reggie!" someone panted. I looked up from the field and into Ron's blustering face, "Fred—hurt—can't play—" he was clutching his side from sprinting up all the stairs.
Hermione and I shot each other a look, "What? Fred's hurt?" Hermione gasped. She pulled out her wand and raced down the stairs. I simply stood there for a moment waiting for Ron to catch his breath.
"Better?" I asked as he straightened up. He nodded, "Okay, what's up?"
"Fred got jumped on his way out of the Hall," Ron said, grabbing my robe and dragging me down towards the locker room, "Nobody saw what happened, but I know Slytherin had something to do with it. He's out cold and Madame Pompfry said it'd be another hour until he's up again. Hurry up! Everybody's waiting!"
"What do you mean 'everybody'—" I began
Before I could finish we were bursting into the Gryffindor locker room. Harry, George, Angelina, and Hermione were waiting for us when we got there. George was hunched over on a bench while Harry was arguing with Angelina—and before I even heard what they were talking about I knew what was going on.
"She's perfect, Angie! You saw her!"
"Do you have any idea how many penalty shots we're handing them if we put her on a broom?" Angelina hissed.
"Um, I'm right here," I said, waving a hand dramatically.
They looked up. Harry grinned as Angelina strode over to me. I had to take a step back to avoid being run over, "Listen. As much as I'd rather see you keep both feet on the ground I even more rather see Slytherin lose their first place position. This does NOT mean you have a place on OUR team. You fill in today only and you listen to every play I've got. If you start drawing fouls then you'll find the Slytherins and I have something in common when it comes to you. Got it?"
I looked over her shoulder at Harry. He was nodding reverently and I just rolled my eyes. I looked back at Angelina—as much as she was pissing me off the chance to play a game of Quidditch was just too tempting to refuse. I gave her a mock salute, "Yes sir, Captain, sir!"
Angelina glared and stalked off, muttering something about taking Fred's robes. George hoisted himself off the bench and tossed the uniform at me. He looked at me with something of a mischievous look—I knew that he was going to be out for revenge on his twin. I winked. Let the games begin, I thought as Ron handed me a broom.
Six fouls and nearly 45-minutes later things were not looking good. Slytherin was up by 80 points and Harry had been circling around the field with no sign of the Snitch. I had tried to follow Angelina's plays…I really did. They just all sucked.
"Ron! Heads up!" I shouted as I watched a Slytherin zip by with the Quaffle. As the player went by I caught a glimpse of the Bludger coming my way. I reared my arm back—WHAP!
I sent it streaming right into a Slytherin back. Too bad it wasn't a knife—but we ended up with another foul anyways. Angelina was glaring daggers at me.
"What did I say, Yank?" she hissed while Madam Hooch was seeing the penalty shot, "We follow my plays—"
"Your plays blow," I snorted, "And I'm just trying to give Harry time to find that Snitch. Be glad I'm not aiming for you," I glared back.
If George hadn't come up right then I'm sure we would've given students and faculty alike an aerial catfight. He slung his bat over his shoulder and grinned.
"You've got one hell of a violent streak in you," George said.
"Comes naturally to us Americans, don't you know." I shrugged, "Any ideas?"
"We need to take Malfoy out," George replied, "If for no other reason than I know it was him who got Fred out of the game. He's been helping their keeper too much—we can't get through."
I glanced down the field. Malfoy was circling the goals in mad circles while keeping an eye on Harry. I looked up at Harry and he shook his head. Still no Snitch. I looked back at Malfoy and then at George and Angelina. Then at the teacher stands—and a plan began forming.
"If you want to get Malfoy out of the way we'll need to work together on this one," I said, looking straight at Angelina, "No fouls. This has to be a clean hit." I sounded like mafia, "We've got to give Harry more time."
Angelina glared at me. She may have hated me, but she knew I was right. There was no way we were going to win this if we kept her plays up and she knew it. She nodded curtly, "So what is it going to be?"
"Stay here!" I shot up towards Harry.
"Some game, huh?" He muttered, "I haven't seen the Snitch yet! I've never taken this long to find it--"
"Shut up and listen," I snapped, "When I signal you go tearing off towards the teacher stands as fast as you can. Malfoy always follows you when he thinks you've seen the Snitch. It'll give us enough time to clear the goal and get the game tied up. Leave Malfoy to me and George."
Harry looked at me and cocked an eyebrow, "What are you up to, Reggie?"
I winked and grinned, "The usual. You just look for that Snitch!" I took off back towards Angelina and George. Our timeout was almost over as I pulled them into a huddle.
"Okay, here's what we do…"
Two minutes later I was waving my arm downfield—it was Harry's signal. Harry nodded and took off towards the teacher stands. Take the bait, take the bait, I thought over and over again. Sure enough, Malfoy went tearing after Harry, convinced that he had seen the Snitch. I nodded at George while Angelina took off to retrieve the Quaffle from Slytherin.
"Flank him!" I shouted! George and I came up besides Malfoy on either side. Malfoy shot a dirty look over at me and I sneered. I leaned forward trying to get enough speed to get ahead of him. If all went according to plan I would be able to kill two birds with one stone. Well, not kill exactly…just maime.
I positioned myself between Harry and Malfoy, still picking up speed as the four of us went barreling towards the teachers. Suddenly, Harry looked down and I followed his gaze—the Snitch. He had to go after it, but not just yet.
"Harry! On three!" I shouted. I could see him nod. The teachers' stands were still several yards away.
"One…."
Harry tightened his grip--
"Two…"
George picked up speed and closed the gap between himself and Malfoy—
"Three!"
Harry took the sharpest dive I'd ever seen. It was like he took a 90 degree angle—something Malfoy couldn't follow. Right then, George came up from behind him and gave Malfoy just enough nudge to get his attention.
"Hey Malfoy!" George chided.
It was long enough for Malfoy to look back for a moment and for George to "pass the ball" to me…so to speak.
"HEY SNAKE BOY!" I shouted.
It was just enough for Malfoy to jerk his head forward. I took a sharp turn up—right in front of the teachers. And Snape. My uniform had been billowing so much with the speed that Malfoy hadn't been able to see what was in front of Harry and me. He didn't even see it coming.
WHAM!
Malfoy plowed into the teachers' stands—only narrowly missing Snape. Snape had to take a dive into McGonagall to keep from being hit. McGonagall fell over into Professor Sprout…and so on…and so on. By the time Harry had caught the Snitch the entire teachers stand had fallen over—with Dumbledore being the only exception. Who was laughing hysterically. Snape could've shot lasers through his eyes as several teachers wedged Malfoy out of the rumpled banners he had crashed into.
The stands exploded with cheers—even some of the Slytherins. George and I had circled around the teachers and made our way to midfield where Gryffindors had begun swarming the field. Harry had made a circle and was gliding towards us—the Snitch clutched in his hand. As soon as we all touched down Harry was off his broom and practically knocked me over.
"Bloody brilliant!" He shouted as Ron, Hermione, and a dozen other students mobbed him.
I was grinning so fiercely my face hurt. Hell, even Angelina was smiling as she patted me on the back, "It still doesn't mean you're on the team, but we could always use some plays." She winked.
As the festivities continued, I looked up field to where Malfoy and his teammates were being led off the field by Snape. Snape turned and glared daggers once more. Potions would be hell next week, but what else was new?
I'd finally taken out Malfoy and Snape. And consequences be damned….