Quidditch Match

BLERGH.

George Weasley threw up his guts into the loo. The resident plumbing ghost, Moaning Myrtle, floated out of the bowl and began lamenting how she'd been disturbed.

"Myrtle, don't you haunt the LADIES bogs?" asked Lee.

She gave a little sniff. "Yes, but I was watching the boys washing in the Gryffindor bathroom." she said, with no shame, and started complaining again.

George barely had time to worry about this before another wave of nausea hit him, and he leaned over the toilet again, groaning.

Fred, Jack and Lee all gave him equal looks of worry.

"You look like hell! You know that-"

"The Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch match starts in half an hour?" he completed for Jack. "I hadn't actually, thanks for the reminder." sarcastically. What if Ravenclaw won? How would the team manage without their best and frankly most handsome player?

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Jack?"

"I think I am, Fred."

Without warning, two pairs of hands grabbed him from behind and hauled George away from his sweet refuge of the toilet. He groaned. Today just couldn't get any worse.

..

Twenty-eight minutes later, and Jack was crouched with Ginny hidden in the shade behind the Quidditch stands. A few metres away was a catapult. Convincing Ginny to help them really hadn't been hard.

The plan was simple. George, still sicker than a basilisk in the Bahamas, would begin the match with Fred. Then once he made it (hopefully without throwing his guts up) to cloud cover, Ginny would catapult Jack over the Quidditch field and onto the waiting broom that George would have accioed for him. Because the broom was already in the air, no magic was needed! The match would be won. Well, perhaps Jack's steering was a bit rusty. He'd only ridden a broom a handful of times in his life, but with a bit of luck they'd pull this off without a hitch. Nothing would go wrong.

The whistle blew. The players, presumably, kicked off. Ginny and Jack jumped to their feet and ran to the catapult. Ginny stood at the counterweight while Jack jumped into the sling. (He strapped on a pair of goggles for safety, of course. What did you think he was, reckless? NOPE. Safety first). They both scanned the blue skies above them. There were no clouds in sight. Jack looked urgently at Ginny, who was panicked as well. Ginny cast the first weather-changing charm that came into her head. Charlie had told her about a few once, whether she had actually practiced any was a different matter. Sure enough, dark clouds began to gather overhead – and didn't stop gathering. The sky and pitch turned black, and lightning split the sky. With a low rumble, the storm broke, and what felt like the whole Great Lake began to pour down on them. Within seconds they were soaking wet.

"GINNY!"

"I'M SORRY JACK. I PANICKED." Ginny's face was horrified. Jack burst into laughter.

"THIS IS PERFECT!" He was picturing his arrival on the pitch in a clap of thunder, the saviour of Gryffindor. Who said Squibs couldn't be AWESOME?

A lump of orange liquid fell from the sky above. The signal.

"Ok," Ginny began a quick safety briefing. "Tuck in your arms and legs in until you reach the cloud, and then… spread-eagled. Your exits are here, there, and everywhere." Then without further ado, she did the thing and

WOOSH

Jack was catapulted into the sky.

The speed took his breath away, and the rain hitting his face felt like an angry hedgehog was attacking his face. His long limbs flailed wildly, and as he rose, he screamed. The view of Hogwarts was amazing from a mile up, but this wasn't the time to admire the scenery! He hit the cloud, and suddenly he couldn't see a thing. George? Where ARE you? He was going to kill his brother if he lived through this. A bolt of searing white slammed down a metre to his right and he began to fall. Down, down, and… SLAM. He hit the broom, tumbled off it, but managed to grab onto it with his hands. Pulling himself up, soaked to the core, he felt the adrenaline flooding through him.

That. Was. Wicked.

Just below him, he saw a blur of orange and yellow. Fred zoomed up next to him.

"Alright there?" he asked. Jack beamed a smile bright enough to end the storm and the two of them high fived. Satisfied his brother wasn't crispy fried Squib, Fred threw him George's bat and flew down to re-join the match.

Now for the tricky part. Jack leaned forward just an inch, and the broom plummeted into a nosedive. He yanked it upright just before he left the cloud cover, panting. How did they make it look so easy? The broom was misbehaving, he knew it. Come on, broom, work with me here. Are you a lion, or a snake? Maybe they shouldn't have stolen Marcus Flint's broom.

Still, he had a match to win. He'd have to wing it. (Haha, get it? he thought. Wing it. I'm flying. He mentally patted himself on the back for that. (If anyone else had heard it, they'd have banned him from flying for life)).

He threw himself forward again, and had to grip on for his life as the broom tipped downwards. Bursting into the light, he saw the ground coming up and pulled up just in time before he became a Weasley-shaped smear on the floor. As he pulled up, he collided with something. A bludger? He looked behind him, and saw Angelina had just been in the line of fire, if he hadn't hit it aside. She was giving him a look that said both "you're my hero!", and "where the hell have you been?". Jack sighed. She was so pretty. Too bad Fred and George both had their sights on her.

But that had been a magnificent move! With just a gallon of luck, he could pull this match off. After all, wasn't he a Weasley?

The match ended with five broken bones, a smashed goalpost, and Flint's broomstick snapped clean in half. The score? After the first 4 accidents, the Ravenclaw players all called in fake sick. The match was postponed until next week. All hell had broken loose.

He'd never been prouder.

Author's Note: This chapter was done by the epic charliehigsonruinedmylife and she's also writing this note! I'm the friend youngjusticefanatic mentioned who came up with the story idea with her. You should follow me/her, because I'm really cool and my stories are too. - CC