The Quidditch Match

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

As the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, drew nearer, their DA meetings were put on hold because both teams were having almost daily practices.

The only thing really worrying Harry was how much Ron was allowing the tactics of the Slytherin team to upset him before they even got on to the pitch. When the Slytherins muttered as they passed them in the corridors, 'Got your bed booked in the hospital wing, Weasley?' he didn't laugh, but turned a delicate shade of green. When Draco Malfoy imitated Ron dropping the Quaffle (which he did whenever they came within sight of each other), Ron's ears glowed red and his hands shook so badly that he was likely to drop whatever he was holding at the time, too.

Kitty was trying not to pay attention whenever Malfoy insulted Ron. Harry had been most surprised at her for this lack of enthusiasm in slandering Malfoy.

'What's got your wand in a knot?' he asked her, one day. 'Fallen in love with Malfoy?' he joked.

'No, I just don't want to get another detention,' said Kitty hastily. She didn't want to tell Harry what Malfoy had said the other day. Harry seemed to find this excuse satisfactory, for he asked her no more question.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. When Harry awoke he looked round at Ron's bed and saw him sitting bolt upright, his arms around his knees, staring fixedly into space.

'You all right?' said Harry.

Ron nodded but did not speak.

'You just need some breakfast,' Harry said bracingly. 'C'mon.'

Kitty was sitting with Vandyll and Luna at the Gryffindor Table.

'I really hope you win, Van,' said Kitty serving him scrambled eggs, 'Go on, eat that.'

Vandyll was almost as nervous as Ron. It was understandable because it was his first match.

'Montague's calling the team on the pitch, Zinpike. We have to check the conditions and change into Quidditch robes,' said Malfoy, walking up to them.

'Right,' said Vandyll, getting up. Malfoy glanced at Kitty. Kitty gave him a small smile.

'Good luck!' called Kitty after Vandyll.

After breakfast, Kitty and Luna went down to the grounds and joined Hermione, and Dennis in the stands. 'It's time,' said Hermione, looking at her watch.

Kitty saw the two teams coming out onto the pitch.

'Captains, shake hands,' ordered the referee Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reached each other. Kitty could tell that Montague was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she did not wince. 'Mount your brooms ...'

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upwards. Kitty saw Ron streak off towards the goalhoops. Harry zoomed higher, dodging a Bludger, and set off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a glint of gold; on the other side of the stadium, Malfoy was doing exactly the same.

'And it's Johnson -Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me-'

'JORDAN!' yelled Professor McGonagall.

'-just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest-and she's ducked Pucey, she's passed Montague, she's-ouch-been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe ... Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and-nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away-'

Lee Jordan's commentary rang through the stadium amidst the din of the crowd, all yelling and booing and singing.

'-dodges Zinpike, avoids a Bludger-close call, Alicia-and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?'

And as Lee paused to listen, the song rose loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands:

'Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.

'Weasley was born in a bin
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley will make sure we win
Weasley is our King.'

' -and Alicia passes back to Angelina!' Lee shouted, and as Harry swerved, he knew Lee was trying to drown out the words of the song. 'Come on now, Angelina-looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat!-SHE SHOOTS-SHE-aaaah ...'

Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had saved the goal; he threw the Quaffle to Vandyll who sped off with it, zig-zagging in between Alicia and Katie; the singing from below grew louder and louder as he drew nearer and nearer Ron.

'Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King. '

'-and it's Zinpike with the Quaffle, he's heading for the goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead-'

A great swell of song rose from the Slytherin stands below:

'Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring ...'

'- so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team-come on, Ron!'

But the scream of delight came from the Slytherins' end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them straight through Ron's central hoop.

'Slytherin score!' came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below, 'so that's ten-nil to Slytherin-bad luck, Ron.'

The Slytherins sang even louder:

'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN... '

'-and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch-' cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

'WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN
WEASLEY IS OUR KING ...'

'Why's Harry not looking for the Snitch?' said Kitty.

Harry too had realised that he had been stationary in midair for over a minute, watching the progress of the match without sparing a thought for the whereabouts of the Snitch; horrified, he went into a dive and started circling the pitch again, staring around, trying to ignore the chorus now thundering through the stadium:

'WEASLEY IS OUR KING,
WEASLEY IS OUR KING ... '

Malfoy was still circling the stadium just as he was.

'-and it's Zinpike again,' bellowed Lee, 'who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Spinnet, come on now, Angelina, you can take him - turns out you can't-but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley I mean, George Weasley, oh, who cares, one of them, anyway, and Zinpike drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell-er-drops it, too-so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle and he's off up the pitch, come on now, Gryffindor, block him!'

Harry zoomed around the end of the stadium behind the Slytherin goalhoops, willing himself not to look at what was going on at Ron's end. As he sped past the Slytherin Keeper, he heard Bletchley singing along with the crowd below:

'WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING ...'

'-and Pucey's dodged Alicia again and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!'

'THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING
WEASLEY IS OUR KING.'

'—and Pucey scores!'

Just then Ron let in two more goals.

'-and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Zinpike, she's heading for goal, come on now, Angelina-GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle ...'

'Looks like Harry's seen the Snitch!' said Luna, pointing at him. Kitty, who was looking at Vandyll, tore her eyes away to look at the other end of the Quidditch pitch. She saw Harry pull into a dive. In a matter of seconds, Malfoy was streaking out of the sky on Harry's left, a green and silver blur lying flat on his broom. Harry pulled his Firebolt around, he and Malfoy were now neck and neck ...

Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching towards the Snitch ... to his right, Malfoy's arm extended too, was reaching, groping ...

It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds-Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball-Malfoy's fingernails scrabbled the back of Harry's hand hopelessly-Harry pulled his broom upwards, holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval ...

WHAM.

A Bludger hit Harry squarely in the small of the back and he flew forwards off his broom. Luckily he was only five or six feet above the ground, having dived so low to catch the Snitch, but he was winded all the same as he landed flat on his back on the frozen pitch. They heard Madam Hooch's shrill whistle, an uproar in the stands compounded of catcalls, and angry yells and jeering from the Slytherins.

'I hope Harry's fine; Crabbe hit that Bludger pretty hard,' said Hermione.

'I'm going to see,' said Kitty getting up. 'That git whacked the Bludger at Harry the moment he saw he'd got the Snitch-but Harry won!'

Kitty reached the Quidditch pitch breathless, and pulled Harry into a hug. 'Are you okay? Did he hit you too hard?'

'I'm fine, Kat.'

Malfoy was shouting something at Harry from behind. The other Slytherins were jeering.

Fred and George had realised what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand, they stiffened, looking round at Malfoy.

'Leave it!' said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. 'Leave it, Fred; let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little-

Harry grabbed hold of George. Meanwhile, it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly. Harry looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack.

'Or perhaps,' said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, 'you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it-'

Both Harry and George were sprinting towards Malfoy. Harry drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoy's stomach—

'Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!' shouted Kitty.

'What do you think you're doing?' screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry leapt to his feet. She was holding her whistle in one hand and a wand in the other; her broom lay abandoned several feet away. Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. 'I've never seen behaviour like it-back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now.'

Harry and George turned on their heels, and marched towards the castle. Kitty joined the Hermione and Luna who were now descending from the stands.

'What happened?' said Hermione.

'Malfoy was saying something, I dunno what, poking fun at Ron, I think, then he said something about our mother and both George and Harry hurtled at Malfoy and started fighting. Madam Hooch stopped them and sent them off to Mcgonagall,' said Kitty.

'Of course Malfoy would do something like that,' said Hermione furiously.

'Mmhmm,' said Kitty, quietly.