Chapter Ten: Wagers and Disappointments
"Okay, I am going to go over this with you one more time."
Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Alice were sitting in the Great Hall, eating lunch and wearing liberal amounts of Gryffindor colors. While Lily was simply wearing a Gryffindor scarf and sweater, Marlene and Mary were wearing what Harry judged to be every piece of Gryffindor paraphernalia they owned. Marlene was even sporting several anti-Ravenclaw badges pinned to her sweater. Harry looked down the table; sure enough, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, already dressed in Quidditch robes, were eating. Well, not eating, Harry thought. More like staring at their food and looking slightly green. Linnea Orwell was sitting at the end of the table, dark circles under her eyes and looking as though she would like nothing more than to throw up. Marlene pointed her spoon at Lily and Harry directed his attention back to their conversation.
"There are seven players on each side," she explained slowly and clearly.
"Seven players, got it."
"Good. Now what positions do they play?"
Lily furrowed her brow, thinking hard. "Um…there's a Keeper, who guards the goal posts…"
"Yes, that's one."
"There are three Chasers and they…er…chase the bludgers?"
Marlene hid her face in her hands and groaned while Mary rolled her eyes.
"No, the Chasers handle the Quaffle and score. The Beaters hit the bludgers away from the players on their team and towards the other team in hopes one of them will be knocked off their broom or something else equally nasty."
"That sounds horrible," said Lily flatly, taking a bite of her toast.
"Lily, it's a good thing you're smart, 'cause you're rubbish at sports," Marlene said, shaking her head.
"Fat lot of use that's gonna do once you've been murdered by a bludger," Lily grumbled. Marlene threw a muffin at her. "And I'll have you know that I'm rather decent at football."
"Football?" Marlene repeated, laughing. "Isn't that the mad game where Muggles kick a ball around a field for ages and try to put it in a goal?"
"Yes, and it's not a mad game," said Lily, sounding as though it was a bit rich for Marlene to be calling football mad in comparison to a game played on broomsticks. "It's very exciting."
"Are there bludgers?" asked Marlene.
"No, of course not, it's a Muggle sport!"
"Then it's boring," Marlene decided, as though this was final. "Nothing's exciting unless you have bludgers." Lily shook her head.
"C'mon, let's get going," said Mary, standing up. "We want good seats!"
They walked down to the Quidditch pitch, chatting about things Harry didn't really care about. About halfway down to the pitch, someone called Lily's name.
"Lily!"
The girls and Harry turned around. It was Snape. Lily waved him over, and Marlene groaned, while Alice and Mary exchanged shifty looks.
"No, Lily, not him," she implored. "Please. Not today. Today is a good day."
"Shut up, Marlene," Lily told her. "Be nice."
"But Lily, he's such a creeper," she whined. "He's always following you around and staring at you and I don't think he showers." Lily turned slightly pink.
"He's not a creeper," said Lily quietly; Snape was nearly level with them. "He doesn't follow me, we're friends. And he doesn't stare, and he just…has naturally oily hair."
"It's not just me!" said Marlene. "Mary hates him, too."
"Mary!"
"I never said I hated him!" said Mary defensively. "I—he's just—"
"Oh, you're useless," Marlene snapped, but Lily stood on her foot. Snape had reached them.
"Hey, Sev!" she said happily, ignoring Marlene's glares and Mary and Alice's refusal to make eye contact. She nudged her friends in the ribs.
"Snape," said Marlene stiffly. Alice waved.
"McKinnon," Snape replied, just as stiffly. Lily rolled her eyes but seemed to find this satisfactory, and they walked on.
"So will you be supporting Ravenclaw or Gryffindor?" Lily asked Snape.
"Definitely Ravenclaw," said Snape.
"Oh, really?" Lily raised her eyebrows jokingly. "Not Gryffindor, the House of your best friend in the whole wide world?" Mary, Marlene, and Alice exchanged annoyed looks.
"Nope, not Gryffindor," Snape joked back. "As lovely as you are, not even the wonderful Lily Evans can erase centuries of prejudice and rivalry."
Marlene actually gagged, and Harry even saw Alice roll her eyes.
"I suppose that's true," said Lily. "However, one can only dream…" Snape laughed.
They had reached the pitch.
"Well, I'd better leave," said Snape, gesturing to the Slytherin side of the pitch. Lily nodded cheerfully.
"See you after the match?"
"Sure," said Snape happily, and as Lily and her friends turned to enter the Gryffindor stands, Harry actually saw him skip a little.
The pitch was almost when they settled themselves in a suitable place in the stands on the Gryffindor side to the tune of endless streams of insults from Marlene.
"He's pathetic," Marlene was saying. "He's a twisted little creep and e practically worships you! I'll bet he's got a…a bloody Lily Evans shrine under his bed—"
"You're one to talk," Lily interrupted.
"What? I don't worship you," said Marlene. "Quite the opposite, actually."
"You're friends with Black and Potter," said Lily pointedly.
"We're acquaintances," Marlene corrected. "Just because you don't hate the curses out of someone doesn't make you friends. And in case you haven't noticed, Black and Potter don't stalk me."
"Lily, I'm with Marls on this one," said Alice uneasily. "How do you stand Snape? I'm sorry, I've tried to like him, honest, but I don't get it."
"You don't have to get it," said Lily simply. "He told me about the wizarding world. He's really sweet. He cares about me, and I care about him. I know we're different, but it's just that simple."
"Well, isn't that adorable."
Lily swirled around. It was James, with Sirius, Remus, and Peter in tow.
"Sit somewhere else, Potter," Lily snapped.
"Love to, but I can't, Evans," said James lightly, sweeping his hair out of his eyes with a flick of his hand. "See, there's nowhere else to sit. But rest assured, being in your presence is a last resort."
"The feeling is mutual," Lily bit back. She turned around and sat on the bleachers between Mary and Alice.
"Care to wager on the outcome of the match, McKinnon?" asked Sirius, jangling what sounded like a large amount of gold in his pocket.
"Love to," replied Marlene, feeling in her own pockets for gold. "What are the odds on a Ravenclaw win?" James gaped at her.
"Against your own House, McKinnon?" he demanded.
"Potter, I love Gryffindor and everything, but we kind of suck," she told him.
"We do not!" Peter piped up.
"Our star Seeker went MIA and our third Chaser is a prat and got himself a Quidditch ban—" she stopped here and glared pointedly at James, who shifted uncomfortably "–resulting in the two of them being replaced by a blind bat and, if you'd believe it, an even bigger prat than this one over here," said Marlene flatly, feeling around in her pockets for gold. "Does that sound like the makings of a winning team? Crap, I think I'm broke…"
"That's alright," said Sirius, undaunted. "Gold is not the only method of payment." Marlene cocked her head to the side, intrigued.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Loser is the other's personal slave for the rest of the day," Sirius replied, smiling mischievously. Marlene looked tempted.
"Hm, interesting," she smirked, but Alice tugged on the sleeve of her robes.
"Marls, are you sure about this?" she asked in a low voice.
"Of course I'm sure," said Marlene. "It's Black that's got to be worried." She straightened up and spoke directly to Sirius again. "Terms and conditions?"
"Enslavement lasts until midnight tonight, no back-outs, no limits," said Sirius automatically, extending his hand for her to shake. It was plain to Harry that he had planned out this whole scenario in advance. Marlene thought about it for a minute and nodded, shaking Sirius' hand.
"I look forward to enslaving you," he said. Marlene laughed as though she thought Gryffindor had no chance in hell of winning this, and turned back around without a reply.
"You're an idiot," Lily told her bluntly.
"An idiot with her own personal slave," Marlene corrected happily, and Lily shook her head. Before the conversation could continue, however, a loud voice echoed through the stands, announcing the beginning of the match.
"Welcome, staff and students of Hogwarts," boomed the voice of the girl, "to the third match of the season: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw!" Cheers erupted from the stands so loud that Lily actually jumped a little. The commentator's voice was barely audible over the din. "Playing for Gryffindor—" The Gryffindor side of the pitch (and even a few Hufflpuffs) screamed again, while Marlene was the sole Gryffindor booing—"Orwell, Prewett, Leagan, Callum, Moore, Rielly, and Vance!" The screaming intensified as the players walked onto the pitch, accompanied by jeers from the Slytherins and Ravenclaws. "Playing for Ravenclaw…Brannett, Wood, Reeves, Chang, Stills, Knopf, and Richardson!" This time the Gryffindors were jeering—James, Sirius, and Mary particularily loudly while Marlene "booed" with the Slytherins and Ravenclaws. Mary kicked her.
"Captains, shake hands!" shouted Madame Hooch from the pitch. Linnea Orwell and Brannett, the Ravenclaw captain, shook hands. "Mount your brooms!" She blew her whistle and everyone kicked off, while students (and some teachers) in the stand cheered deafeningly loudly.
"And they're off!" shouted the commentator. "It's Prewett of Gryffindor with the Quaffle! Prewett passes to Leagan—ooh, close call, nice bludger from Knopf!—Leagan still in possession—fakes a pass to Callum, but passes back to Prewett! Leagan dodges another bludger, but he's far off, looks like it'll be the first test for Callum, who will be replacing Potter as Chaser after some mishap in the Forbidden Forest involving what I heard to be a rampaging unicorn, though there have been rumors of centaur involvement—"
"The match, Skeeter, the match!" shouted Professor McGonagall. Harry's head turned so fast he heard his neck crick. Sure enough, sitting a few rows below was a teenaged Rita Skeeter, her hair as elaborately curled as Harry had ever seen it.
"Right, well, Callum dropped the Quaffle about a minute ago, so now Brannett's got it—oh, now he's passed to Reeves, who ducks an easy bludger from Moore. Maybe if she spent as much time on her aim as she does in a broom closet with Walter Wagner then maybe Gryffindor would have a shot at—"
"SKEETER, THIS IS A QUIDDITCH MATCH, NOT A GOSSIP MAGAZINE!" McGonagall shouted. Rita's lip curled, and she continued smoothly:
"Maria Reeves of Ravenclaw with the Quaffle, and she's speeding towards Gryffindor Keeper! She shoots, and—YES! Ten-zero, Ravenclaw!" Ravenclaws and Slytherins jumped up and down in the stands, accompanying their screams. Marlene McKinnon turned around to face Sirius.
"Worried yet, Black?"
"Not a bit," Sirius replied lightly, and she smirked as she turned back around to see the game, where Rita Skeeter was now "commentating" on Linnea Orwell's miss. "And there goes another goal to Ravenclaw! Once the top Keeper at Hogwarts, by the looks of this game, she's peaked early. Orwell has replaced Lester as captain, and it looks like she's cracking under the strain…"
Harry had to agree with her there—every time he had seen Linnea over the past few weeks she had been looking closer and closer to a nervous breakdown. But when he looked up at the goal posts, he saw a very different Linnea Orwell than the one he had seen before. She seemed unfazed by Rita Skeeter's jibes, and was now shouting at Callum, who had just dropped the Quaffle again.
"—and the Quaffle is caught by Dennis Wood of Ravenclaw, who passes to Reeves, and back to Brannett, who shoots—and—oh, damn, Orwell saves it. Well, I suppose you've got to get lucky sometimes—"
"RITA SKEETER, IF YOU CAN NOT ANNOUNCE THE MATCH IN AN IMPARTIAL FASHION THEN YOU WILL BE REMOVED FROM YOUR POST!" shouted McGonagall shrilly. Rita Skeeter appeared to not register this outburst and continued on over her.
"Gryffindor in possession! It's Ethan Leagan with the Quaffle, ducks a bludger from Chang, passes to Prewett, back to Leagan—and he's going for a goal—damn, Knopf misses and Gryffindor scores. The score is now 10-10…"
"Not so confident now, are we, McKinnon?" Sirius whispered in Marlene's ear. She elbowed him in the ribs and he straightened back up to watch the match.
Linnea Orwell blocked four more goals, and Ethan Leagan scored once, bringing the score up to 20-10 in Gryffindor's favor.
"The Quaffle returns to play in Ravenclaw possession—Wood passes to Brannett, back to Wood, back to Brannett, and Brannett passes to Ree—no, the pass is intercepted by Fabian Prewett of Gryffindor! Prewett drops the Quaffle—nice bludger from Stills—and it looks like Ravenclaw—no, Leagan's caught it. Leagan passes to Callum—seriously? That might be one of the dumbest things I've ever seen on a Quidditch pitch!"
Callum, who had been flying around aimlessly for a few minutes now, had not expected the pass and it had hit him in the face. His hands flew to his nose and he nearly fell off his broom as a slight trickle of blood snaked down into the collar of his Quidditch robes. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins were laughing, and the Gryffindors groaned exasperatedly. James had his face in his hands and looked as though he might cry. Marlene looked very self-satisfied.
"Is he alright?" asked Lily anxiously.
"Who cares? He's a stupid prat!" snapped Sirius. "What kind of idiot catches the Quaffle with his face?"
Brannett scored twice, and Linnea Orwell let in two more goals from Reeves, putting the Gryffindors thirty points behind the Ravenclaws. Sirius was beginning to get antsy, Peter was biting his nails, and Remus was shouting at nobody in particular. Rita's voice rang through the stadium clearly as she accidentally-on-purpose dropped snide comments and gossip in the middle of her commentary. The pitch was much more hectic. Linnea's hair was coming out of her ponytail as she shouted at Callum and Rielly, one of the Beaters, and very nearly saved another goal.
"Leagan back in possession of the Quaffle!" Rita Skeeter shouted. "Dodges Brannett, fakes to Prewett—oh, Merlin, that's not—SOMEONE CATCH HIM!"A Ravenclaw Beater had sent a bludger flying at Ethan Leagan, and it hit him in the stomach, causing him to drop the Quaffle and fall backwards off his broom. There was a collective sharp intake of breath from the stands as Rielly and Prewett zoomed downwards to catch Ethan as Linnea Orwell signaled frantically for a time-out. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and stopped the game. Everyone on the pitch touched down.
"Time-out called by Gryffindor Captain Linnea Orwell," announced Rita Skeeter unnecessarily. "Leagan doesn't look too good…Madame Burton's been called down to examine him…"
The screaming and cheering in the stands had been replaced by buzzing and nervous whispering, and even a few laughs from the Slytherin end of the pitch. Lily's hands were covering her mouth, her eyes wide. Alice looked queasy.
"Is he going to be okay?" Lily squeaked.
"He's fine, the stupid pansy," snapped James. "It's just a bludger."
It looked like a little more than just a bludger to Harry. Ethan Leagan was lying on the field, and even from his high place in the stands, Harry could see how pale he was. The rest of the Gryffindors didn't look much better, and even a few Ravenclaws seemed worried. Harry glided down the stands and onto the pitch.
"—needs the hospital wing right away," Madame Burton was saying. Linnea Orwell looked an amusing mix of worry and panic.
"But what will we do for a third Chaser?" she demanded, her voice higher than usual.
"Calm down, Ms. Orwell," said Madame Hooch. "Bring in your reserve Chaser."
"He's our reserve Chaser!" Linnea exclaimed, pointing to Callum.
"Right," said Madame Hooch, now looking rather like she was sorry she had said anything at all. "Well, then you can either forfeit or resume play with six players."
"This is ridiculous!" said Linnea desperately. "Ethan can play, he's fine! It was just a bludger—you're alright, aren't you Ethan?"
Ethan groaned.
"Hospital," said Madame Burton with finality, and she levitated Ethan onto a stretcher.
"Leagan has been removed from play!" boomed Rita Skeeter's voice, and the Gryffindors groaned. "It looks like the Gryffindors might have to forfeit the match!" More protests from the Gryffindor side of the pitch rang throughout the stadium as Harry returned to his place with the Gryffindor first years'. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and the players kicked back off. "I don't believe it! They're going to continue play with only two Chasers! Those Gryffindors just don't know when to quit, do they?"
The match resumed with a Gryffindor possession. "Fabian Prewett with the Quaffle!" shouted Rita. "Brannett's closing in on him, Prewett's gonna have to pass—no, he's keeping possession! He shoots—and scores. Gryffindor 30, Ravenclaw 50."
It seemed that Prewett was rather reluctant to pass to Callum, and Harry didn't blame him. The Ravenclaw Chasers, however, were in top form and scored three more times. The Gryffindors were becoming less and less spiritied as the match wore on and it was becoming increasingly obvious that they might not win.
"Nice bludger from Veronica Stills—that's gonna hu—what the hell is Richardson doing?"
The Ravenclaw Seeker was now speeding towards Emmeline Vance, who shrieked and ducked. "He's seen the Snitch!" shouted Rita Skeeter. "Richardson's seem the Snitch! Vance is a little slow on the uptake, but she's on his tail—Richardson's gaining speed—come on, come ON! And…YES! Richardson's got the Snitch! The game is over with a score of 230 to Ravenclaw and 30 to Gryffindor. Wow, that's a bit embarrassing…Looks like the final match of the season will be Ravenclaw versus Slytherin!"
But her last words were drowned in the thunder that was the cheers of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws. The Gryffindors looked…well…defeated. James looked heartbroken, and did barely more than grunt the whole way back to the castle, as Marlene gloated.
"…hope you've already finished your Potions essay because you're gonna be spending the next few hours on mine!"
"Shut up, McKinnon," growled Sirius.
"Oh, is somebody a sore loser?" asked Marlene mockingly.
"Your own House just got slaughtered and you're happy?" demanded Sirius.
"You still my personal slave?" Sirius said nothing for a few seconds and then nodded. "We shook on it, didn't we?"
"Then yes," said Marlene. "Yes, I am."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, it's only a game," snapped Lily to James, who's head snapped up.
"Shut up, Evans, you wouldn't know a Quaffle from a puffskein," he told her shortly, and then picked up his pace and walked ahead of the group.
"What's a puffskein?" Lily mouthed to Mary, and the memory dissolved around them.
A/N: Sorry about the rediculously long wait...but this chapter is longer than usual, so yays!!! Okay, next chapter is the LAST CHAPTER OF FIRST YEAR OH MY GOD!!! You guys are freakin' awesome to have stuck with this story, so thanks to Her-mee-own, RainingRain, jedigal125, XsinglovelivedanceX, deisegirl, EatenBy FlowersAndStillLaughing, prongster, Jessluvsharry, Twistyler, DistractedButSerious, FallingForFootie, -EHWIES, wishfulthinking123, the sudoku kid, and Cassie Rita Marie, as well as all the others who are reading this story but not reviewing (*coughcoughcough*).
Also, on a completely different note...I'M ON POTTERCAST! Listen for me on the Seattle episode of their road tour...I'm Erin/girl in the red sweatshirt and I WON!!! Yeah...just thought that was cool...
-Dem