Ravenclaw's Match
As promised by McGonagall, James found a notice on the Gryffindor common room's bulletin board early the next morning concerning the Whomping Willow. According to the rumors floating around the school, Madam Pomfrey had only barely managed to save Davey Gudgeon the use of his left eye after the previous day's incident. Dumbledore had answered Professor McGonagall's request by forbidding any further attempts at reaching the Willow's trunk, and he stated in a new decree that he would not allow students to even approach the tree lest they be heavily punished. After the notice appeared on the wall, there were no further problems, and everyone stayed far away from the Willow.
On the other hand, Morgan was so far unsuccessful in her attempt to earn back Gryffindor's Quidditch rights, and she put together a new schedule for the rest of the team. Unfortunately, their sessions never lasted long, because the Slytherin team kept on interrupting them only after a few minutes at best; James began to suspect that they had spies throughout the castle informing them of their rivals' whereabouts. Of course, James knew that the setback could only last for so long once the other professors realized how unfair Slughorn's order was, but the match against Ravenclaw was quickly approaching. All the Gryffindors could do was count on the quality of their previous practices and hope for the best.
Finally, the day of the match arrived, and James woke an hour early due to his eagerness. After changing into warm clothes to protect him from the wind, he ate a quick breakfast in the Great Hall with his roommates, who eyed him throughout the meal silently.
"Do you think that you're ready for the match?" Remus finally asked. "I mean, do you think that you've practiced enough?
"The question is, is the match ready for me?" James responded, and Sirius laughed.
"Come on, have you seen James on a broomstick?" he demanded of Remus. "Ravenclaw's dragon meat!"
"Yeah!" Peter agreed in the midst of swallowing from his goblet of water, and he started coughing violently as the others stood up.
"Let's go!" James insisted. "I can't wait any longer." Together, he and Sirius ran off towards the exit, Remus hurrying quickly behind.
"Wait—wait for me!" Peter hacked, pushing himself up.
The four jogged out into the hallway, turning left towards the Entrance Hall so that James could reach the Quidditch pitch early to change into his uniform. However, before they could make it to the central staircase, Lucius Malfoy rounded a corner with two other Slytherin students and blocked their path.
"In a hurry, are we, Potter?" Malfoy asked, smiling infuriatingly down at the second-years. "Is there something you need to get to?"
"Yes, in fact, there is," James told him shortly, trying to find a way around them. The two Slytherins behind Malfoy were both larger if not taller than their leader, and they did not leave any room on either side of him. Giving up, James decided to try and talk his way out of it. "You know full well that there's a match today. Don't act like you haven't been trying to sabotage our team all week."
"You shouldn't speak to a prefect like that," Malfoy admonished him, shaking his head. "I'm going to have to take ten points from Gryffindor for your attitude. Oh, and I believe you also accused me of sabotage, so I'll make that twenty."
Bristling beside James, Sirius spoke up as Malfoy turned to him with a curled lip. "Why don't you just stuff it, Malfoy? Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Don't forget that you're still talking to a prefect," Malfoy drawled back. "I'll take ten points from you as well."
"My foot!" Sirius spat.
"Twenty!" Malfoy snapped, his eyes flashing. Upon seeing James' fingers twitching above his pocket, he turned on him fiercely. "Don't you even think about it, Potter. I can have your wand taken away if you dare to use it."
"You can't do that!" Remus protested. Above him, Malfoy sniffed.
"Can't I now? Ten points, Lupin, for needing to read up on school rules. And your shoe is untied, Pettigrew, so that's another five."
Glancing down at his feet in alarm, Peter bent down to knot his laces while Malfoy's Housemates laughed. "In fact," Malfoy continued, pulling out a quill from his robes, "I think that I should write you all a warning for loitering in the corridors and mouthing off to your superiors. Quillox," he spoke to the taller of the two students behind him as he started to scribble on a small piece of parchment, "why don't you go find a professor to give this to? I'm sure that they'll be most interested."
Suddenly, a quiet sort of voice spoke up from behind James and his roommates. "Interested in what?" Professor Alamanzar asked, stepping into view with his hands folded behind his back. Instantly, James felt a wave of relief wash over him as Malfoy stopped writing, surprised, and pointed towards the Gryffindors.
"These four were giving me trouble. I was just about to send them to a professor for belligerence."
"Well, there is no need for that now," Alamanzar answered matter-of-factly. "I will handle it from here. You may go."
Seeming hesitant, Malfoy eyed him suspiciously for a moment until Alamanzar cleared his throat. "Can I remind you of Hogwarts Directory, Article 35, Section 8a? 'Any student who does not immediately comply to a command given by a professor, implied or direct, is subject to punishment via House point reduction or detention, however deemed appropriate and necessary.' You are dismissed to the library for—how do you say?—needing to read school rules?"
After studying Professor Alamanzar with an intensity almost reverent, Malfoy turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway with the other Slytherins following closely behind, all looking a little unnerved by the exchange. Nodding to himself silently, Alamanzar studied their receding forms as he mouthed something under his breath.
"Thank you, professor," Remus spoke up first, and Alamanzar looked down at the boys in surprise as if he had forgotten that they were even there.
"Yeah, we owe you one," Sirius added.
"I've never seen Malfoy's grin disappear so quickly!" James praised, grinning.
Smiling, Alamanzar nodded humbly. "You going to game?"
"Yeah," James answered, glancing down the hall. "We'd better hurry. I thought for sure that I wouldn't make it in time."
Staring at James contemplatively, Alamanzar tilted his head. "You are in game?"
"Yeah," James replied, grinning. "Chaser."
"Ah," Alamanzar said, rubbing his mustache. "Very good. Remember: the lion with the prey is half as wise as the jackal without." When James looked at him in confusion, he raised his finger and explained, "Him with the Quaffle does not see full picture. Only when you sit back do you understand."
"Thanks," James told him. "Did you play Quidditch?"
"Sí," he answered, miming a swing. "The one with the bat. I was not so good." Laughing, James and the others waved goodbye as they started running down the hall.
"Remember!" Alamanzar called to James one last time, tapping his forehead meaningfully.
Fifteen short minutes later, James and his roommates reached the edge of the Quidditch pitch and parted ways, James to the locker rooms and the others to the stands. The field was already teeming with students, and James had a little trouble pushing his way through the stream of passersby. Unexpectedly, someone stepped in front of him at the last moment, and he ran straight into their chest with a grunt.
"Hello, James!" a familiar voice greeted, and James backed away, adjusting his glasses.
"Dad?" James asked excitedly, and he allowed his father to hug him properly just before his mother, who was standing beside him.
"Were you planning on being late to your first game?" James' father laughed, giving his son's wild black hair a ruffle.
"Long story," James answered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Are you nervous?" his mother questioned.
"Are you kidding me? I've never been more excited in my life!" James exclaimed.
"I told you, he's from my side of the family," his father interjected, the bald spot on his head shining in the bright sun. "A Potter never flees from adventure!" Laughing, James gave him a high-five.
"Good luck, then!" James' mother interjected. "We wouldn't want to keep you waiting. We'll be cheering you on from the stands."
"Meet me after the game!" James told them, and he waved goodbye before running off towards the locker rooms again. When he slipped inside, he ducked underneath a harsh gaze from Morgan as he grabbed his protective armor.
"You're late," the Quidditch Captain reprimanded while the rest of the team looked on from the rough semicircle they were standing in.
"Sorry, I had things to do," James quipped unwisely, but Morgan seemed more concerned with addressing the team than lecturing him.
"Listen up," she commanded, and everyone looked at her expectantly. "We've prepared for this game, and we have the talent to beat Ravenclaw. Just remember to keep your eyes on the Bludgers. Their Beaters have remarkable aim."
"No problem!" Raul piped up, raising his club.
"We'll give it right back to them!" Michael added.
Although she nodded, Morgan did not offer an encouraging smile as the Beaters led the way out onto the field. When James and Joseph started to follow them, Morgan stopped them by catching their sleeves.
"I'm counting on you two," she told them, sending one more rebuking glare at James. "It's your first game, but you two show incredible promise. You've especially improved over the last few weeks, Joseph, and I want you at your best today. And James, I don't want you to hold anything back."
"I wasn't planning on it," James answered with a grin, and he grabbed his Airwake before running after the others.
His heart thudding excitedly, he jumped into the sunlit field, and the crowd roared to welcome both teams as they stepped out of hiding. After a few moments, Instructor Zunderfield walked onto the pitch as well, his wavy brown hair swishing in the wind halfway down his back. Greeted by the excited murmuring from the spectators, Zunderfield approached the chest in the center of the pitch containing the four Quidditch balls.
"Captains, shake hands," he announced loudly, and Morgan stepped in front of James to approach the Ravenclaw Captain and Seeker, Tori Hansfeld. After grasping hands briefly, they let go and stood back with their teams. At a signal from Zunderfield, the players rose into the air on their broomsticks, James rising into position beside Frank and King as he stared down the Ravenclaw Chaser ahead of him.
Raising his hands for silence, Instructor Zunderfield waited for the pitch to grow a deadly quiet before speaking. "The first match of the season: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw!"
Cheering wildly, the crowd watched as Zunderfield bent down and unlatched the locked chest in front of him. Immediately, the two black Bludgers zoomed above the players' heads, followed closely by the Golden Snitch, the tiny, winged ball meant for the teams' Seekers. A second later, Instructor Zunderfield tossed the bright red Quaffle into the air, and James dove for it with his arm outstretched. Unfortunately, one of the Ravenclaw Chasers grabbed it before any of the Gryffindors could reach it, and the player threw it towards his teammate below. Completing a backwards loop in midair, James joined Frank and King in the chase as he heard the student commentator, Ravenclaw Eric Thompson, start to narrate the action.
"Bridge with the Quaffle after the first pass from Kirk. The Gryffindors give chase, but Ravenclaw has the head st—HOLY—"
The rest of Thompson's expletive was cut short by Professor McGonagall, who grabbed the microphone away from him and only handed it back after a few sharp words with him.
"Sorry, Professor, but that Airwake is FAST!"
Triumphantly holding the Quaffle above his head, James sped under Jeanette Bridge, whose throw he had intercepted by pulling up into her line of sight at the last second. Both Frank and King circled around and followed him to the other side of the stadium where the Ravenclaw Keeper hovered in front of the three goalposts.
"Hunley darts back and forth in front of the hoops . . . Potter throws—no, he fakes it! Longbottom with the Quaffle, and he throws it into the third hoop! Ten points to Gryffindor!"
An enthusiastic roar signaled the crowd's approval, and James flew back towards the center of the pitch, brushing his hair out of his eyes with one hand. He thought that he could hear his name being called from somewhere down below, but the Quaffle was back in Kirk's possession before he could search for the voice's owner. Swooping after the ball, James, Frank, and King were blocked by the other two Chasers, Bridge and Pao, who flew in front of them and slowed down just enough to hamper their progress.
"Looks like the Chasers are bringing back the old Downwind Detour," Thompson commented over the microphone. "King tries to pass them, but he's sent back by a Bludger from Lindon. Kirk approaching the goalposts, and there he goes!" An expectant cry arose from the spectators, but it soon hushed disappointedly. "Stopped by Bender . . . all right, the Quaffle's coming back into the game."
Using the spare moment to glance around the pitch, James spotted Morgan and Hansfeld circling the field slowly, searching for the elusive Snitch. Above him and to the right, Michael dove after the Bludger that had attacked King with a frustrated expression; evidently, the ball had slipped past him and Raul despite their attempts to keep it and its twin occupied on the opposite side of the field.
Hunching over his broom while Pao retrieved the Quaffle, James sped back into the action and cornered the opposing Chaser with Frank, who swooped in from the other side. Seeing his predicament, Pao tossed the ball towards Bridge, but King snatched the ball before it could reach her. Turning around, the three Gryffindor Chasers approached Hunley at the goalposts, and the Keeper blocked King's throw with the end of his broomstick. However, he was unprepared for Frank's ascent when he shot upwards and knocked the Quaffle to James, who hit it with the palm of his hand into the left hoop. Another cheer rose from the crowd, and James noticed that the Ravenclaw section of the stands had lapsed into a stunned silence.
"Wow . . . nothing's getting past the Gryffindor Chasers today," Thompson spoke from the commentator's box. There was another roar from the spectators. "And . . . that's ten more points for Gryffindor."
As the minutes ticked by, Gryffindor scored nine more goals, leaving the score one hundred and twenty to zero. Although the Ravenclaw Chasers displayed a commendable amount of teamwork, their older broomsticks could not outrun James' Airwake, which spun around them with uncanny ease. Not halfway through the match did the students below start to chant "POTTER! POTTER!" in triumphant voices. Spurred on by their team's incredible success, Michael and Raul beat back the Bludgers with renewed fervor, keeping them from interfering with their teammates.
"One hundred and thirty to zero." Continuing to narrate over the yelling crowd, Thompson sighed with apparent boredom. "Ravenclaw calls a time out."
Lowering himself to the ground, James dismounted his Airwake and waved at the jubilant crowd while the rest of his team rested and the Ravenclaws gathered together. Hansfeld appeared especially agitated, and he gesticulated wildly at his team until Instructor Zunderfield finally approached him and caused both teams to ascend back into position. Facing each other with grim looks of determination, Bridge, Kirk, and Pao seemed to exchange an understanding before turning back towards the other team's Chasers.
"Let's get them," Frank told James and King as they rose to playing height, and James snatched the Quaffle from the air before the Ravenclaws could complete their first throw. Tucking it underneath his arm, he once again raced towards Hunley with his teammates and leaned back for the toss.
However, as he let the Quaffle go, several things happened at once: first of all, James felt a thudding pain on the side of his arm, which caused him to release the ball too early as he cried out and dropped a few meters to the earth; secondly, he heard a slamming noise from behind him, and two more people called out in surprise; finally, a collective gasp from the stands announced the students' astonishment at the commotion on the field, and James distinctly heard Professor McGonagall's shout of horror caught in the microphone before Eric Thompson's exclamation drowned out all other voices.
"Oh, it looks like Lindon and Marcell shot both of the Bludgers at the Gryffindor Chasers at once! Potter didn't see them coming, and his throwing arm got hit! I wonder if he's all right?"
Clutching his arm, James felt himself losing altitude, and he decided that everything was most certainly not all right. Frank had flown closer to him after disentangling himself from King, having collided with him to avoid the other Bludger, but his words came out as indistinct mumbling. Finally, shaking off his shock, James caught the end of Frank's final sentence.
". . . have to land!"
"I'm . . . fine!" James grunted through gritted teeth, but Frank and King ignored him as they supported him on the way to the ground. Sliding off of his broom, James steadied himself despite his dizziness and waited as the rest of his team landed. Rushing towards him, Madam Pomfrey and Instructor Zunderfield came to a stop as the former held out James' arm; wincing, James fought back a hiss of pain.
"Just broken, I think," Madam Pomfrey announced to everyone gathered around, waving them away as she pulled out her wand. "This will only take a minute."
"I'm so sorry, James!" Michael apologized, clearly horrified. Behind him, the Ravenclaws had landed, appearing concerned as well. "They shot both Bludgers at me at the same time, and I couldn't deflect two at once! I had to move out of the way!" James opened his mouth to tell Michael that it was all right, but he let out another grunt in reaction to the coal-hot yellow tendrils wrapping around his arm, snaking out from Madam Pomfrey's wand.
"Hold still, Potter!" Madam Pomfrey admonished him, and Zunderfield held up his hands to the crowd behind her.
"NO FOUL!" he told the spectators, and a few dissenters booed angrily.
"Come on, let's get back in the game," Morgan told everyone but James after having made sure that he was all right, and she directed the rest of the team onto their brooms.
"Can I go?" James asked Madam Pomfrey as the Ravenclaws aligned back into position.
"Hold on just a few moments more," she insisted, eyes narrowed in concentration.
"They can't play without me!" James argued. "Why don't they pause the game?"
"This is Quidditch," Madam Pomfrey answered unsympathetically. "It doesn't stop for minor injuries. It'll only take a few more moments."
Staring up at the sky impatiently, James tried to keep still as best he could for the healing spell. He winced again when his arm began to burn where his bones were reconnecting, but he kept his eyes on the match. One man down, Frank and King nevertheless seem spurred on by their loss and circled the Ravenclaw Chasers with fervor. Although Frank started out with the Quaffle, Bridge intercepted it early on, and the two teams engaged in a fierce back-and-forth struggle. The Ravenclaws seemed determined to take advantage of the favorable circumstances, but although they flew with a renewed speed and vigor, Joseph kept light on his broomstick and managed to block two shots from entering the goalposts. However, Frank and King were having trouble keeping up with the action, and James knew it was only a matter of time before Ravenclaw scored.
"Can you hurry up?" he asked Madam Pomfrey, who gave him a sharp glance and looked like she might break his arm again.
"Just wait one more moment!" she snapped. "Honestly, you should be taking this opportunity to rest!"
Glancing back at the field, James caught sight of Morgan zipping around frantically only a short distance from where he stood, apparently also having sensed the turning tide. Much farther from James, Hansfeld was staring in his direction, almost motionless on his broom. Suddenly, the Seeker's eyes lit up as James watched, and Hansfeld gave a quick glance in Morgan's direction; a moment later, he turned around completely and sped towards the other end of the field, and James' heart jumped into his throat.
"Morgan!" he heard Raul cry out, but Morgan had already spotted the Seeker's flight and had rushed to match his pace. As she closed in on him, James searched the pitch frantically for the Golden Snitch, but no sign of the minuscule winged ball caught his eyes.
Watching as the Seekers flew past a giant banner of Gryffindor's coat of arms, he observed the golden lion flap wildly from the speed of their passage, and he suddenly remembered Professor Alamanzar's advice to him earlier that day: The lion with the prey is half as wise as the jackal without. Frowning, James glanced back over his shoulder at where Hansfeld had been hovering just a few moments before. He had been facing James, not the other end of the field. How could he have he seen the Snitch from where he was facing? It was impossible—unless it was a ploy.
Suddenly, a flash of light glinted into James' glasses, blinding him. Turning, he spotted the object of his discomfort buzzing near the bottom of the stands and gasped; just a few meters away, the Golden Snitch was darting back and forth between the heads of the lowest students, who did not notice its presence as they kept their eyes trained on the two Seekers.
Turning back in the other direction, James shouted, "Morgan! It's over here! He's leading you the other wa—" An excited murmur grew from the spectators and drowned out his words, and James quickly realized that his efforts were pointless.
"Hold still!" Madam Pomfrey demanded as James' fidgeting threw her off from her work.
"Sorry, you'll have to wait," James told her, wrenching his arm free and mounting his broom.
As he shot into the air, he ignored Madam Pomfrey's final yell of warning and sped after the two Seekers while the crowd cheered even louder. Ducking low and gripping his Airwake tightly, James felt a minor stab of pain in his right arm but ignored it as he flashed past the other Chasers.
"James!" Frank yelled in surprise, but his voice fell limply as James streaked past him in pursuit of Morgan. Although the two Seekers were built for speed, James' small frame and superior broom soon gained ground, and he cupped one hand over his mouth to shout at Morgan's long ponytail whipping in the wind.
"Morgan! Turn around!" Surprised and annoyed, Morgan chanced a small glance over her shoulder. "The Snitch!" James yelled. "It's the other way!"
In the few moments that followed, James barely had time to react. Looking ahead once more, Morgan glanced towards the huge tower that Hansfeld was leading her towards and then back at James. By some small stroke of luck, whether she spotted the glinting gold light behind him or noticed the alarming speed at which she was approaching the tower, she pulled up and completed a backwards loop, zipping past James in the other direction. Apparently having planned to pull up at the last moment, Hansfeld looked over his shoulder in surprise to see Morgan zooming back towards the other side of the pitch, now in the lead. Alarmed, he spun around, but Morgan was already far ahead by the time he had reached his top speed. From his position high in the air, James watched as Hansfeld struggled to capture Morgan while the Gryffindor Seeker shot towards the now-fleeing Snitch. After a few seconds of agonizing suspense, she closed her fist around the tiny ball and slowed to a halt, her hand suspended victoriously over her head for the cheering crowd.
"And Gryffindor wins 280 to zero," Thompson spoke, stunned, from the commentator's box. Behind him, Professor McGonagall looked absolutely ecstatic as the spectators roared. "Wow . . . they completely decimated us. Oh well, good game," he said fairly after a sigh, switching off the microphone before turning back to converse with the others in the box.
"GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR!" the crowd chanted from the stands, cheering James and his team on as they landed. The Ravenclaw players all seemed stunned, and Hansfeld looked particularly disappointed as he half-heartedly shook Morgan's hand under Instructor Zunderfield's watch.
"James!" Sirius yelled as James neared the stands, and he, Remus, and Peter were the first to rush down onto the field. "That was incredible!"
"Great job, James!" Peter agreed excitedly, hopping up and down.
"You were spectacular!" Remus added, unable to hide his grin.
"Thanks!" James answered.
"I think that we have a chance of winning the Cup if you destroy the other teams like that!" Sirius exclaimed, but he was soon cut off by several excited Gryffindors clambering down from the stands. Upon reaching James, the students blocked his escape as they crowded in eagerly, patting his shoulders in congratulations. In the activity, James lost sight of his roommates, but he decided to answer his fans' questions before finally breaking free after a few minutes to approach his parents, who had pushed their way through the crowd.
"Great job, James!" his father exclaimed after reaching his son, clapping him on the shoulder.
"You were amazing!" his mother praised, bending down to hug him; James did not return the gesture, instead stepping back and running his hand through his wind-tossed hair. Seeming to sense his hesitance due to the watching students, his mother immediately straightened and smiled apologetically. Then, as if remembering something, she bent down again and held his arm. "Are you all right?"
"What do you mean—ow!" James gasped, jerking his right arm back when her fingers grazed the spot where the Bludger had hit him.
"I thought that the matron had patched you up," his father said, concerned.
"I'm fine, really," James dismissed, but his father shook his head.
"It sounds like it hurts pretty badly," he argued, and he waved over the heads of the milling students to catch Madam Pomfrey's attention, occasionally standing on his toes to be better seen because of his shrunken stature. Eventually, Madam Pomfrey, who had been searching the field for a glimpse of her runaway charge, spotted James' father and approached quickly.
"You could have gotten yourself hurt again!" she reprimanded James vehemently before turning to his parents. "Thank you for finding me—I've been looking all over for him! If we don't finish setting his arm, it could break again, and I'm not always around to remedy things." As she spoke, several yellow tendrils broke out from her wand-tip and latched onto James' arm, and he sighed impatiently while he waited for her to finish.
"Do you think that you could stick around for a while longer?" James asked his parents. "I want you to meet my roommates. They were just here, but they got lost in the crowd."
"We'd be delighted!" his father replied, and his mother nodded in agreement.
"Just make sure that your arm is completely healed first," she said, and Madam Pomfrey let out an appreciative harrumph from the side. After a few long moments, the matron finally released her spell and tapped her wand warningly on James' arm.
"Now remember: don't go running off like that again," she demanded. "Healing is a precise art, and letting things go unfinished can make things even worse."
"All right," James answered, and he waited for her to walk away before turning to his parents. "Come on!" he urged, pulling them towards the stands. "I need to introduce you to Sirius and the others!"
Only after a few steps towards his destination, James was interrupted yet again, although this time by Frank. "Oi, James, are you coming?" Frank asked. "We're having a party in Gryffindor Tower!"
"In a minute, Frank," James answered, a little frustrated, but he motioned behind him nonetheless. "These are my parents. I'm showing them around."
"Oh," Frank said before smiling and extending his hand. James' father took it, and they shook before Frank did the same with James' mother. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. I'm Frank Longbottom."
"A pleasure, I'm sure," James' mother replied with a beam, apparently impressed with Frank's polite introduction.
"Excellent flying out there today," James' father told Frank. "It looks like you and James make a good team!"
"Yeah, Gryffindor's in great shape this year!" Frank agreed happily. "Thanks for coming to watch! I'll see you later, okay, James?"
Nodding, James waved goodbye as Frank jogged off towards the locker rooms. Turning around, he started leading the way towards the stands again, straining to spot his roommates through the crowd. However, just when he was about to fight his way through the seemingly endless stream of students, a tall, sour-faced man blocked his way and crossed his arms impatiently.
"Are you quite ready?" he asked, and James stared up at him in confusion for a moment until he realized that the man was looking over his head. Turning, he looked at his father just before the balding wizard replied.
"Sorry, Marcell. James was just going to introduce us to his mates."
"Well, can you hurry it up?" Marcell snapped. "I've got a meeting after noon, and I haven't got the time to stand around all day."
"Can you wait for a few more moments, please?" James' father asked, and Marcell turned around with a huff and stalked off. "Sorry about that," James' father continued, addressing his son. "We shared a Portkey with Marcell on the way over, since he came to watch his son. I don't think that he's too pleased with Ravenclaw's loss," he added, glancing over his shoulder at the disgruntled wizard. Turning back, he inquired, "Do you know where your mates are? Have they already left for the party?"
"I don't know," James answered, suddenly concerned, and he glanced around the pitch for his roommates without any success. "If we go after them, we might be able to catch up before—"
"Dear," his mother interrupted, patting her husband's arm. Together, all three of the Potters looked back at where Marcell stood glaring in their direction, arms crossed and foot tapping.
Turning back towards James, his father shook his head. "I'm sorry, James—maybe next time. We can't keep him waiting."
"But—"
"We'll see you soon, all right?" his mother told him, giving his shoulder a loving pat before James could move away.
Watching his parents walk away glumly, James sighed and walked back towards the locker rooms, hoping to join Frank before he could leave. Judging by the enthusiasm of his Housemates, the coming party in Gryffindor Tower would surely last until after nightfall.