"Mum, which team are you supporting again?" asked Albus Severus Potter.
"Sorry," Ginny replied, somewhat embarrassed, "darling. I didn't have any Slytherin jersey at home."
"It's alright. You can have mine when the match is over."
Albus had finally secured his place on the team at the beginning of the season, despite his poorly concealed disdain for the sport. No one could say how much his best friend, Scorpius Malfoy—the Seeker and star of the team—had influenced the decision. But in the end, Albus turned out to be quite a competent Keeper.
The players lined up in the tunnel leading to the stadium, accompanied by Madam Hook, who would be refereeing the match, and the Heads of Houses, along with Ginny, who appeared to be a VIP guest.
"Here you go, Mrs. Potter," said Scorpius, wrapping a green and silver scarf around Ginny's neck. "So you won't forget during the game."
"That's very kind of you, Scorpius," Ginny said, her face not betraying the enthusiasm she feigned in her voice. "Your father's coming too," she added, changing the subject. "He'll be joining us in the box."
"Great," said Scorpius. "Guess I'll have to win, then."
At the mention of Draco, Albus looked at his mother inquisitively.
"I'm sorry, Alby," Ginny answered the question his eyes were asking. "He really wanted to come."
"It's okay."
Thess glanced around, seeking something to distract her from the awkward family moment.
"You should see their Christmas dinner," said Rose.
"No, thank you," Thess replied.
"It wasn't an invitation, but it could be if you'd like."
"Let's focus on the game. We can talk about this later."
"Alright. Do you remember the plan?"
"The usual," Thess answered.
"The usual," Rose confirmed.
'The usual' wasn't exactly a plan. Thess would catch the Snitch as quickly as possible, regardless of the score. Her record was two minutes against Ravenclaw, before any goals were scored: 150 to 0.
"Keep the score difference low and don't worry about me," Thess instructed.
"Agreed."
Ginny overheard their conversation with barely concealed interest. When Madam Hook blew the whistle to lead the teams onto the pitch, Ginny pulled Scorpius aside and whispered something in his ear. He looked over at Thess, a smile spreading across his face that could only be described as draconian.
"They're up to something," Rose muttered.
"Let them come," Thess said, marching onto the field.
It's a beautiful morning for Quidditch, ladies and gentlemen!, announced Emilia Carter, the commentator, through her enchanted megaphone as the teams entered. And today we have Gryffindor versus Slytherin, battling it out in the final—the greatest rivalry in our school's history. A match so classic that even our two defeated houses have turned out in full force and fill today's stands. I notice a preference for red and gold. And I'll just say, if you're not from Slytherin but are cheering for Slytherin, you're wrong. Yes, I'm talking to you, Mrs. Potter.
Ginny grimaced as she scratched at a newly developed itch under the scarf.
And now for the lineup. Defending for Gryffindor, wearing number one: Rose Weasley, captain and Keeper. Numbers two and three: Rob Howard and Bob Moore, our Beaters. Four, five, and six: Chasers Eric Heathfield, Ted Medcraft, and Hank Spinet. And last but not least, the prodigious rookie Thessaly Wood, wearing number seven! Thess has promised us today she'll break her own record and not let the Snitch leave its box.
Stepping onto the field to the roar of the crowd always thrilled Thess, though she tried not to show it. A slight smile would escape, especially when they chanted her name as they were doing now.
In her first year, she'd survived bullying at the cost of a broken wand and a black eye. She considered herself lucky. Over the years, she'd had a friend here or a boyfriend there, but no truly deep connections—until she joined the team. Now she had at least six friends and a whole house of admirers. Of course, the other three houses didn't see her the same way, as evidenced by the obscene gestures and crude insults coming from the Slytherin stands. But one couldn't have everything. Thess would have her revenge on the pitch.
And defending for Slytherin... do I really have to? Oh, fine. Albus Severus 'the boy who shames us' Potter, keeping goal with number one. Numbers two and three: Draven Whitlock and Morgana Nightshade, Beaters. Four, five, and six: Chasers Valerius Blackthorn, Serena Montclair, and Dorian Bloodworth. And finally, wearing number seven, Seeker and team captain, Scorpius 'so nice he doesn't seem like one' Malfoy!
"It's 'Scorpion King,' honestly," protested Scorpius.
"Let it go," said Albus.
The balls were released, and the brooms soared into the sky.
Despite the visible similarities—field, goals, Keepers—Quidditch resembles basketball more than football. In football, matches are slow, and goals are rare. In Quidditch, scoring is easy. Some games end with astronomical scores. That's why the 150 points for catching the Snitch aren't as unfair as some think. In an official match, fifteen goals can happen in five minutes. This match was an example; it had barely begun, and both teams were already scoring.
And we're into the third minute. A pity—it seems we won't see a record today. But don't be disappointed yet. Our prodigy girl always brings us a surprise!
Scorpius Malfoy was circling the pitch close to the stands to have a broad view and be ready for when the Snitch appeared. Thess didn't need to make the same effort; she knew the Snitch was behind the Slytherin goalposts.
Seeing the Snitch and being able to catch it were two different things. It had two modes of behavior: in stealth mode, it was impossible to catch. Thess had to wait patiently and not lose sight of it until it switched to chase mode. Meanwhile, she pretended to search for it, flying in an orbit opposite to Scorpius.
Hovering over the stands, Thess spotted Ginny, sitting near Malfoy and chatting animatedly with a tall, dark, and mysterious young man whom Thess was certain was not Harry Potter. Even without hearing them, she could surmise with some certainty that she was the topic of conversation—the way the young man was staring back at her made that clear.
"Eyes on the game, Wood!" shouted Rose, bringing Thess back to reality.
Malfoy dives toward the center of the pitch. Can you see the Snitch?, Emilia Carter's voice echoed.
Thess turned frantically but quickly relocated the Snitch, still in stealth mode, near the Gryffindor stands—far from Malfoy's dive.
Scorpius swerved his broom sharply, avoiding the ground at the last second, then looked at Thess, disappointment evident as she hadn't moved.
"Seriously, Malfoy? A Wronski Feint? The oldest trick in the book."
Scorpius shrugged, but behind him, Thess saw Rose frantically waving about something that wasn't an imminent goal. That's when a Bludger struck Thess on the back of the head.
That must've hurt!
Quidditch is a violent sport; there's no denying that. After all, two of the four balls are enchanted cannonballs designed to injure. Hitting a Bludger at the opposing Seeker's head wasn't just allowed—it was encouraged. An injured Seeker couldn't be replaced during the game, and since no one else on the team could catch the Snitch, it practically guaranteed victory for the opposition.
Thess had plenty of time to reflect on her foolishness, as well as review her entire life, before Rob "Whitebutt" Howard prevented her from falling off her broom.
"Sorry, Wood," he said, helping her regain balance. "I couldn't get there in time."
Bob Moore, the other Beater, pulled up alongside them. "You alright?" he asked.
"Just a bit dizzy," she replied, resisting the urge to ask if anyone else could hear bells ringing.
It was strange having these two boys worried about her, especially since before she joined the team, Howard had put a rat in her trunk and Moore had bet he could lift her skirt with the broom's draft during their first flying lessons.
"Hey, Whitlock!" Moore shouted at the opposing Beater. "Try that again, and I'll shove this bat where the sun doesn't shine!"
Rose deliberately sent the Quaffle soaring to be able to fly up to them.
"I'm fine," Thess said, anticipating her friend's question.
"Looks like Slytherin's plan to win has finally been revealed," Rose said.
"Typical dirty play," Howard muttered.
"That's them all over," Moore added.
"Can you get back into the game?" Rose asked.
"Of course."
"Alright, change of plans," said Rose. "Moore, you're Thess's bodyguard now."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Howard, can you handle the rest of their team on your own?"
"Absolutely, and it'll get easier after I send Whitlock express to Madam Pomfrey."
"That's the spirit. Gryffindor on three. One, two, three..."
"Gryffindor!"
And the match resumed. Wood is back with fire in her eyes. Figuratively, I hope—not literally—but I can't tell from here. She dives toward the stands. Is it another Wronski Feint? No, wait, there's the Snitch!
Scorpius, at a disadvantage, knew he couldn't reach the Snitch before Thess, so he circled around the stands, hoping to intercept it head-on.
The two Slytherin Beaters flanked Thess, batting a Bludger back and forth like a game of tennis, using her as the net.
Moore managed some incredible saves, but it was still two against one.
Thess had no choice but to trust her teammate and focus on the catch.
Just as she was about to grasp it, the Snitch halted midair, causing her to collide with Malfoy, who was coming straight at her.
Scorpius was struck in the chest by the handle of Thess's broom.
From Thess's point of view, what happened next unfolded in slow motion.
The Golden Snitch hovered right in front of Thess's face, as if mocking her. Scorpius Malfoy, already unconscious—possibly with broken ribs—was plummeting headfirst toward the ground, fifty feet below. His broom shot out of the pitch in a wide arc before splashing into the Black Lake. Emilia Carter let out a loud, unrepeatable exclamation.
Thess didn't think twice. She dove toward the ground. Luckily, a falling boy was easier to intercept than a Golden Snitch. Thess managed to overtake him, then pulled up, cradling the Slytherin Seeker in her arms.
The crowd went wild.
Thess sighed with relief. And that's when the second Bludger hit her square in the face.