The following Saturday, in the grand and opulent hall of their school, the group sat together at a long, gleaming table. Plates were piled high with an assortment of rich, savoury foods, and goblets of shimmering liquid sparkled in the candlelight. Harry absently twirled his fork through his meal, his usual voracious appetite diminished by nerves. Daphne watched him with concern etched on her features.
"Harry, what's wrong? You usually eat enough for three people," she asked with genuine worry.
"I...I'm just a bit nervous," Harry admitted, his silver eyes darting around the room.
"Why don't you try taking a bite of toast? It might settle your stomach," suggested Susan, always the pragmatic one.
"Susan's right, mate. You're gonna need your strength today," added Daphne, placing a comforting hand on Harry's arm.
"I-I'm not hungry," Harry whined softly, unable to hide his anxiety from his friends.
Daphne deftly took a fork and reached for his plate, quickly spearing a piece of Egg with it before bringing it to his mouth. "Come on, eat up," she urged, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"But..." Harry started to protest before Daphne expertly cut him off with the fork in his mouth.
"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of you chewing," she replied sarcastically, causing Hannah and Susan to burst into laughter.
"Harry, maybe you should listen to her," Susan giggled, betraying their cousinly bond.
"Traitor," Harry grumbled, "You're supposed to be on my side..."
His words were once again silenced as Daphne forcefully fed him another bite.
"Now what was that?" Susan teased, "You know you shouldn't talk with your mouth full."
"Come on, Harry," Hannah said with a hint of laughter in her voice. "You really should listen to Daphne and Susan." She gestured towards the window, where the sun was just beginning to rise over the Quidditch field. "Your first match is today."
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, Daphne expertly forked another bite of eggs into his mouth. The savoury taste of bacon mixed with the warm fluffiness of scrambled eggs filled his senses.
"I'm..." He tried to speak again, but once more Daphne's actions silenced him.
Harry finally relented, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite his nerves. The tension in his shoulders eased as the laughter and gentle teasing of his friends washed over him, grounding him in the moment. He took a deep breath, feeling a bit more fortified with each bite of food Daphne managed to coax into him.
"Alright, alright," Harry conceded, finally grabbing the fork from Daphne's hand. "I'll eat. Merlin knows I won't hear the end of it otherwise."
"That's the spirit," Daphne said with a satisfied nod, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and support.
Professor Tonks gracefully approached Harry's table, her smile warm and welcoming. "Harry, although you may be playing for my rival house, I still want to wish you good luck. Your father would have been so proud of you."
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "You knew my father?" he asked.
Andromeda nodded, a wistful look in her eye. "Yes, I was his second cousin. He was an incredible Quidditch player. The best I've ever seen," she said with pride.
"What position did he play?" Harry inquired.
"He was a Chaser," Andromeda replied. "Even though he was a Gryffindor and I was a Slytherin, I couldn't help but admire his skill on the field. He gave our house quite a bit of trouble during matches."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said gratefully.
"You're welcome, dear. If you ever want to hear more stories about your dad, feel free to stop by my office," Andromeda offered kindly before she left.
As Lyra bursts into the Great Hall, her talons screeching against the stone floor, all eyes turn to her. She is struggling to carry a very large, long parcel in her beak. With a graceful yet determined movement, she drops it off at the table before flying down to Harry's side. The hawk gently lifts her leg, offering two letters attached to delicate strings for Harry to take. As he reaches out, Lyra's sharp gaze catches sight of a piece of bacon on Harry's plate and she hops over to snatch it up, perching proudly on his shoulder with her prize.
"Hey, that's mine," Harry says with a playful glare at his feathered companion.
"Bit early for mail, isn't it?" Daphne asks curiously.
With excitement and curiosity bubbling inside him, Harry carefully opens one of the letters and sees that it is written in beautiful Ionic Greek script.
Dear Harry,
I am proud to hear you are doing well in school, I am also pleased to hear you are cherishing your father's memory and earned a place on the Quidditch team. Please be careful, your grandmother will stop by on Saturday (I hope you get this letter before then) to watch you play. Please be careful, and try to keep up with your lessons with Jophiel.
Love Artemis.
P.S. In the Second letter is Lord Zeus giving you permission to fly, and the Package is a Nimbus 2000, I bought it for you so you won't have to use the school broom.
"The package is a broomstick!" said Harry excitedly.
"That's not just any broomstick, Harry," exclaimed Hannah recognizing the model "It's a Nimbus 2000! the fastest broom on the market yet"
(Line Brake)
After finishing their meal, the group hurriedly left the dining hall, eager to unwrap the broomstick in private before Harry had to change for quidditch. However, they were stopped halfway across the entrance hall by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy snatched the package from Harry's hands and examined it closely.
"This is a broomstick," he sneered, tossing it back to Harry with a mix of envy and malice on his face. "You're going to be in trouble this time, Potter. First years aren't allowed brooms."
"It's not just any broom," interjected Daphne with a smirk. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What kind of broom do you have at home, Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty?" She turned to Harry with a grin. "Comets may look flashy, but they're no match for a Nimbus."
"Greengrass, you should be at my side, not slumming it with this mudblood," Malfoy sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "After all, my father is in the process of negotiating a betrothal contract between our families."
Daphne rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy," she said with exasperation. "First of all, my father is dead and I now live with my Greek relatives on my mother's side. Second, have you forgotten that Harry's mother was from one of the oldest magical bloodlines in Europe, making him a pureblood? And third, my uncle despises everything to do with the Malfoys and has openly declared that any Greengrass who associates with a Malfoy will be disowned." She emphasized each point with a sharp jab of her finger.
Malfoy, trying to regain some of his lost dignity, sneered, "You'll regret this, Greengrass. You and your band of misfits."
"Oh, and pray tell, how?" sneered Harry with a mocking tone. "You come here and start insulting us, and then have the gall to steal my package? I didn't know the Malfoys were so desperate for material possessions that they had to resort to theft."
Before Malfoy could even open his mouth to respond, Professor Flitwick appeared at his side. The small half-goblin professor looked up at them with a disapproving frown.
"Not arguing, I hope?" he squeaked in his high-pitched voice.
"Potter has received a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly, trying to redirect the attention away from himself.
"Yes, yes, that's right," chimed in Professor Flitwick, a wide smile on his wrinkled face. "Professor Sprout informed me of the special circumstances surrounding this, Mr. Potter. And what model did you say it was?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," replied Harry proudly, holding back a smirk as he watched Malfoy's face twist into an expression of abject horror.
"But surely first years are not allowed to have brooms," interjected Malfoy in a smug tone.
"You are partially correct, Mr. Malfoy," said the Half-Goblin with a note of amusement in his voice. "First years may own a broom if they make the Quidditch team, something Mr. Potter has achieved."
(Line Brake)
Just outside the locker room, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team gathered, their emerald and yellow robes billowing in the light autumn breeze. Harry fidgeted with his broom, his nerves bubbling like a cauldron on high heat. Cedric, the team captain, placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Scared, Harry?" he asked with a knowing grin.
"Not really," replied Harry, trying to calm his racing heart, "it's more like I am nervous."
"That's all right," reassured Cedric, "I felt the same way before my first game."
Before he could think better of it, Cedric added, "Well, more like my first game as a seeker. Last year, our former seeker suffered an injury that prevented him from ever returning to the game."
"What happened?" asked Harry curiously.
Cedric hesitated before replying, "Er, I really shouldn't be saying this to you on your first game...but he took a Bludger to the head two minutes into our first game. He woke up in the hospital a week later."
A lump formed in Harry's throat and he gulped, suddenly feeling even more nervous. But there was no time for further discussion as the doors to the pitch opened and they mounted their brooms. The roar of the crowd washed over them as they zoomed out onto the enormous pitch. Lee Jordan's voice boomed from a tall tower as he announced the players' names and positions. The excitement and tension was palpable in the air.
"Hello! And welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the season! Today's game, Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff!" said Lee high up on the announcer's chair
From the stands, the sea of green and yellow Hufflepuff robes erupted into cheers and applause. The anticipation was palpable as the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium.
"The lineup for Hufflepuff is Sky Parkin, known for her lightning-fast reflexes; Nymphadora Tonks, with her ever-changing hair and fierce determination; and Cedric Diggory, a skilled flyer with an unbreakable spirit." Tonks' hair briefly blazes red in anger before reverting back to its signature bubblegum pink. "In charge of defending their goals are Beaters Baglan Wellney and Anthony Rickett, a formidable duo who never miss their mark. And guarding the hoops is Herbert Fleet, whose unwavering focus has saved many a match. Finally, we have none other than Harry Potter as Seeker, his name alone enough to strike fear into any opponent."
As the Slytherin team took to the field, their fans roared in support. "Now let's see what our rivals have in store for us," the announcer declared.
"The lineup for Slytherin is Markus Flint, the cunning captain who leads by intimidation; Adrian Pucey, a swift and merciless chaser; and Cassius Warrington, whose strength and agility make him a force to be reckoned with." The trio zoomed around the pitch, already strategizing their next move. "Defending their players are Beaters Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole, both known for their brutal hits on opponents' brooms. And guarding the posts is Miles Bletchley, whose quick reflexes have saved Slytherin from defeat numerous times. And last but certainly not least, at seeker we have Terence Higgs, always ready to swoop in for the win."
As the players take their positions in a circle high up in the air, Harry weaves his way up to the top, standing tallest amongst them all. He gazes down at the field with determination and focus.
Madam Hooch strides onto the field, her authoritative presence commanding attention. "The players are ready and Madam Hooch is about to begin the game!" exclaimed Lee from the commentator's box.
"Now, listen here," Madam Hooch says sternly, addressing both teams. "I want a fair and sportsmanlike game from all of you." She casts a pointed look towards the Slytherin team.
With a swift kick of her boot against the trunk, two Bludgers shoot out into the sky, followed by the elusive Golden Snitch.
"The Bludgers are released and the Snitch is on the loose!" announced Lee, his voice booming through the stadium. "Remember, catching the Snitch earns your team 150 points and ends the game."
The tiny golden ball zips around each Seeker's head teasingly before vanishing out of sight. Hooch grabs hold of the prized Quaffle.
"And with that, the Quaffle is released and the game officially begins!" said Lee excitedly as he watched Hooch toss the Quaffle into play. The roar of the crowd filled the air as both teams kicked off and flew into action.
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Nymphadora Tonks of Hufflepuff — what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too —" announced Lee.
"JORDAN!" scolded Professor McGonagall
"Sorry, Professor," replied Lee
With a swift and graceful movement, Tonks passes the Quaffle to Cedric Diggory His robes billow behind him as he zooms past the Slytherins toward their goal, determination etched on his face. With an expert flick of his wrist, he throws the ball and it sails through the air, landing with a satisfying ding in the goal.
"Cedric Diggory scores! 10 points for Hufflepuff!" announces Lee Jordan, his voice booming through the stadium. He presses a button and a 10 appears beside a plaque with Hufflepuff's name on it.
Harry, flying high above the pitch, lets out a loud cheer and claps his hands together in excitement. Suddenly, a Bludger flies dangerously close to him, causing him to let out a surprised "Whoa!" The stands erupt in cheers as Hufflepuff celebrates their impressive play.
In the stands, Daphne smiles and claps her hands together in congratulations. "Well done!" she says to her fellow Hufflepuffs.
But the game is far from over. As Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle, Bletchley passes it to their captain Marcus Flint. Herbert Fleet of Hufflepuff quickly moves into position to defend their hoops. With impressive agility, he dodges players from both teams and manages to successfully whack the Quaffle away with his broom. A smirk appears on his face as he glances at Flint, who scowls back at him.
Meanwhile, Tonks and Cedric Diggory work together seamlessly as they pass the Quaffle back and forth, strategizing on how to score another goal for Hufflepuff. Sky Parkin suddenly swoops in and takes possession of the ball, throwing it towards the goal with all her might. And once again, there is a roar of cheers from the Hufflepuff stands as the ball sails through the air and lands in the goal.
Hannah and Susan, two Hufflepuffs in the stands, jump up and down in excitement. "Yay!" they exclaim. Harry, still flying on his broom, lets out another loud cheer for his team.
"Another 10 points to Hufflepuff!" announces Lee Jordan from his announcer's chair. With a press of the button, he adds another 10 to Hufflepuff's score, accompanied by a satisfying ding sound.
The Slytherin team strategized, their faces twisted into wicked grins. They dodged and weaved, kicking up dirt and grass as they vied for the Quaffle. Herbert Fleet, the team's aggressive beater, snatched a bat from one of his teammates and swung it wildly at a nearby Bludger.
"Give me that!" he yelled triumphantly before striking the Bludger with all his might. The ball flew straight at Herbert but he managed to dodge at the last second, only to have it hit him square in the stomach. He fell to the ground, knocked out cold.
The entire audience erupted into boos, Harry Potter among them, visibly upset by the Slytherin team's dirty tactics. As they laughed and swaggered off the field, one of them expertly jumped over Rickett, a Hufflepuff beater, and scored with ease. Lee Jordan announced another 10 points for Slytherin on the scoreboard while Harry seethed with anger.
"Take that side!" barked Flint, the captain of Slytherin, pointing to where Tonks, was trying to defend against two opposing players. They quickly boxed her in and sent her hurtling toward one of the tall towers covered in black capes. With a thud, she hit the ground and was declared out of commission by Madam Hooch. The crowd booed loudly as Slytherin scored yet again, their cheers drowning out any protests from the Hufflepuff side.
Harry soared through the air, scanning the field for any sign of the elusive Snitch. It was all part of the game plan he and Wood had strategized before the match. "Stay out of the way until you spot the Snitch," Cedric had instructed. "We don't want you getting knocked off your broom before it's necessary."
When Tonks made a goal, Harry let out a few victorious loop-the-loops before returning his focus to finding the Snitch. He thought he saw a glint of gold at one point, but it turned out to be just a reflection from one of the beaters' wristwatches. Then, a Bludger came hurtling towards him like a cannonball. Harry managed to dodge it, and Ballgan Wellney swooped in to chase after it. As he passed by, Ballgan yelled, "You alright, Harry?" while frantically hitting the Bludger toward Marcus Flint.
"And the Slytherins are in control," Lee Jordan shouted into his microphone, "Chaser Pucey avoids two Bludgers from beaters Baglan Wellney and Anthony Rickett as well as fellow Chaser Perkin, making a beeline for the - wait a minute - is that the Snitch?"
The crowd buzzed with excitement as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too focused on the glimmer of gold that had narrowly missed his ear.
Harry saw it too. With great enthusiasm, he dove towards the ground, chasing after the flash of gold. The Slytherin Seeker, Terence Higgs, was also hot on its trail. They raced side by side towards the Snitch, while all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten their duties and were hovering in mid-air in anticipation.
Harry was faster than Higgs - he could see the small round ball flapping its wings ahead of him - he kicked it up a notch and sped forward - BAM! A roar of anger erupted from the Hufflepuffs below - Marcus Flint had deliberately blocked Harry, causing his broom to spin out of control as he clung on for dear life.
"Foul!" screamed the Hufflepuffs. Madam Hooch scolded Flint and awarded Gryffindor a free shot at goal. But in all the chaos, the Golden Snitch had once again vanished from sight.
Lee Jordan struggled to remain impartial as he announced the Quidditch match. "And after that obvious and disgraceful act of cheating," he remarked, earning a warning glare from Professor McGonagall. He quickly corrected himself, saying, "I mean, after the blatant and disgusting foul."
"Jordan, I'm warning you," growled McGonagall.
"Fine, fine. Flint nearly kills the Hufflepuff Seeker - it could have happened to anyone - so Hufflepuff receives a penalty shot, taken by Tonks who makes it without difficulty. And the game continues with Hufflepuff still in possession."
As Harry dodged another Bludger, narrowly avoiding being hit in the head, something strange happened. His broom suddenly lurched forward in a terrifying way. For a moment, he thought he was going to fall off. He held onto the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. It was an unfamiliar sensation.
It happened again, and this time Harry felt like his broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousand were not known for randomly tossing their riders off. He attempted to turn back towards the Hufflepuff goalposts, considering asking Wood for a timeout, but then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't steer it at all; it was zig-zagging through the air and making sharp swishing movements that almost knocked him off entirely.
Lee continued commentating as the game raged on. "Slytherin is in possession of the Quaffle, passed from Flint to Perkin and then to Diggory. Oh! And Diggory takes a brutal hit from a Bludger - hopefully, it didn't break his nose. Just kidding, Professor!"
The Slytherins erupted into cheers as they scored another point. No one seemed to have noticed Harry's strange behaviour on his broom. He was being carried away from the game, with his broom jerking and twitching as he ascended higher and higher.
(Line Brake)
"I don't know what Harry thinks he's doing," Daphne muttered, peering through her binoculars. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's lost control of his broom...but that can't be."
Suddenly, people all over the stands were pointing up at Harry. His broom had started rolling and twisting uncontrollably, and he struggled to hold on with just one hand.
Hannah turned to face Susan, concern etched on her face. "Could something have happened to the broom when Flint blocked him?" she asked.
"It's not possible," Susan replied, her voice trembling. "Nothing can interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic."
Daphne had been scanning the crowd through her binoculars and suddenly gasped. Hannah looked at her in confusion.
"I knew it," Daphne exclaimed, still peering through the lenses. "Quirrell, Lord Nott, and someone I don't recognize - look."
Hannah hesitantly took the binoculars from Daphne and saw three adults in the stands across from them. Their eyes were fixed on Harry and they were muttering under their breath.
"They're doing something - jinxing the broom," Daphne confidently stated.
"Jinxing the broom? What do we do?" asked Hannah
"Leave it to me," replied Daphne, She hands Susan her binoculars and leaves the stands.
Harry was caught off guard as he was knocked and thrown around on his broom. His grip on the handle loosened and he found himself dangling by one arm, desperately trying to hold on.
"Come on, Daphne!" Susan's voice sounded concerned as she watched from below.
(Line Brake)
Meanwhile, Daphne was hurrying up the tower structures, her wand tightly gripped in her hand. She spotted Lord Nott flying above her and quickly appeared underneath him. With a swift movement, she touched his cloak with her wand. "Incendio," she whispered, and a spark ignited on Lord Nott's cloak. Within seconds, the fabric was engulfed in flames.
Daphne wasted no time in leaving the scene, but not before hearing a man's panicked voice shout, "Fire! You're on fire!" Lord Nott reacted with surprise and annoyance as he turned to see his burning cloak. Without hesitation, he knocked the man back with a powerful swing of his arm, causing him to fall into Quirrell who also stumbled backwards.
Amidst the chaos, Lord Nott calmly batted out the flames on his cloak and acted as though nothing had happened. The broom beneath Harry stopped its bucking and he quickly climbed back on. He could see the Slytherin seeker hot on his tail, both of them racing towards the elusive Snitch.
With determination and expert skill, Harry took off towards the tiny golden ball floating high above them. He could feel the wind rushing past him as he flew faster than ever before, adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was what he lived for - the thrill of chasing after that tiny winged ball that seemed to have a mind of its own.
"Go!" exclaimed Hannah with eager excitement.
"Go, go, go!" shouted Susan, her voice ringing out above the roar of the crowd.
Harry flew towards the Slytherin Seeker, determination etched on his face. He collided with their broom, sending them tumbling through the air. But Harry quickly recovered and went in for another hit, determined to gain possession of the Snitch.
As they neared the ground, both boys pulled back up, vying for control of the elusive golden ball. The Slytherin Seeker tried to back away, but Harry stayed close behind, his eyes locked on the Snitch as it darted through the air.
Suddenly, with a burst of speed, Harry lunged forward and reached out his hand, hoping to grab onto the Snitch before it could slip away again. But he overestimated his reach and tumbled off his broom with a yelp, crashing onto the grassy field below.
The crowd held its breath as Harry staggered to his feet, dazed but determined. Daphne appeared beside a nearby tower, watching intently as Harry stumbled towards the Snitch.
"He's gonna be sick!" exclaimed Susan as she watched Harry lurch towards the golden ball.
But then something miraculous happened - the Snitch popped out of Harry's mouth and landed safely in his outstretched hand. The stadium erupted into cheers and applause as Lee Jordan announced Harry's success.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle while gracefully flying on her broomstick and declared "Hufflepuff wins!"
The crowd erupted into ecstatic celebrations, but not everyone was happy about Hufflepuff's victory.
(Line Brake)
And cut, I am almost done with first year of HP.
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