Hey! I'm back! Sorry 'bout that. I couldn't update because my Internet died.
Aaand… Krum is the lucky one!
Krum leaned forward and pushed his Firebolt as fast as he could. The sounds of the crowd watching the World Cup filled his ears, making him give an infinitesimally small grin. It soon faded as his head gave yet another throb and his vision blurred slightly from tiredness. He lost sight of the elusive Snitch again. Krum swore quietly; it wasn't as if anyone could hear him.
"And Krum starts swearing from frustration! Gee, that Snitch sure is feisty this… um… week! Remember, everybody, go catch a few… -yawn- winks of sleep, 'cause it looks as if this game's gonna go on for a while!"
Well, I'll be damned. They CAN hear me.
Krum rubbed his eyes and resumed circling high in the air. The Irish Seeker - what was his name? Lynch, that's right - was dipping slowly up and down as he nearly fell into a deep sleep.
The blasted game had been going on for a whole week now, and the Snitch still hadn't been sighted. Many of the crowd members were frustrated and had started throwing fruit. The Irish team had dodged them, disgusted looks on their faces, but the Bulgarian team knew better. Krum felt like he had been living on fruit for his entire life, and he resolved never to eat fruit again. Especially bananas. He had nearly choked on three bananas during the game.
Krum glanced over at the audience and saw that they were already glaring again. One of them was Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived. Krum locked eyes with the younger boy, and Potter glared. Suddenly, the black-haired boy jumped up and placed his wand to his throat.
Potter mouthed something which Krum couldn't make out, but he could guess. Sonorus.
"ALRIGHT! I'M BLOODY SICK OF THIS GAME, AND IF KRUM AND LYNCH CAN'T CATCH THE THRICE-DAMNED SNITCH, THEN I BLOODY WELL WILL! ACCIO FIREBOLT!"
Lynch free-fell towards the ground, screaming like a little girl. Krum felt a brush of disgust as he dived and caught the pathetic Irish Seeker. Lynch sobbed silently as Krum lowered him to the ground and rose back into the air again, watching the Potter boy.
Catching the Snitch was HIS job! Victor Krum was the best Seeker in the world, and he would get the Snitch if it was the last thing he ever did! No fourteen-year-old boy would beat the Victor Krum!
Krum shot into a steep dive, confident that his Wronski's Feint would leave Potter sprawled in the mud. He glanced back to make sure that Potter was right behind him, then panicked.
The Boy-Who-Lived had gone into a similar steep dive… after a golden flash of light.
That damned Snitch.
Krum suddenly realised that he was a little too close to the ground. He plowed straight into the pitch, sending up a cloud of grass and dirt. Coughing, he sat up and stared disbelievingly as Potter held up the Golden Snitch in triumph.
The crowd went mad. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had caught the Snitch! He had beaten Victor Krum! He was the new best Seeker in the World, and Krum was second.
The Bulgarian teenager moaned and flopped back besides his broom, wishing that this was all a dream. He nearly believed it, too.
Until a banana smacked him in the side of the head.