The First Quidditch Match

Word at breakfast the next day was that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger had encountered the troll in a girls’ bathroom and had somehow managed to defeat the beast.

You weren’t sure if this was true. But it appeared as though Granger had finally found herself some friends. Good for her.

Professor Snape seemed incensed at the sight of the four troublemaking Gryffindors. It also didn’t take you long to notice that there was something wrong with his leg. Professor Snape was terrifying. The thought that something could hurt the intimidating man scared you. He spent your Potions lesson perched on a stool and was exceptionally nasty to the four Gryffindors. He lashed out at them like they’d stolen the only woman he’d ever loved and spent seven years mercilessly bullying him.

You initially thought that Professor Snape’s lack of mobility would make things easier for students like Longbottom who became a nervous wreck when Professor Snape stalked around the classroom and loomed over them while they were brewing and preparing their ingredients. But Professor Snape made sure his presence was still felt in the classroom as he sat perched on a stool by the board. He would never deprive himself of an opportunity to berate his least favorite students, especially because they were partnered together today. He yelled at Potter and Longbottom for discussing topics that weren’t related to the potion you were brewing and threatened them with a zero for the day and a loss of points if their potion wasn’t perfect. Good luck with that guys.

Granger kept her usual spot at the front of the classroom across the aisle from you and Goyle -- much to her new Potions partner Ron Weasley’s irritation. Professor Snape made sure to comment on that new seating arrangement as well.

“I know what Weasley is capable of, Granger. Unlike with Potter and Longbottom, if your potion is perfect I’ll know you did all the work and carried your hapless partner to a passing grade. You’ll lose points for not allowing your partner to pass or fail on his own merits.”

Granger had finally learned not to rise to Professor Snape’s bait because she didn’t respond to the unpleasant professor’s threat. She sent a glare of frustration in your direction and a look that clearly said ‘you and Draco are doing the same thing with Crabbe and Goyle’. But at this point, she knew that commenting on Professor Snape’s double standard would only anger him further.

Apparently, Weasley hadn’t learned this lesson. No big surprise there.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Snape being a git,” he quietly attempted to encourage his partner.

“This ‘git’ has functioning ears, Weasley!” Professor Snape practically snarled back, “That will be ten points from Gryffindor for insulting a professor.”

Professor Snape found any excuse to take points from the Gryffindor quartet. You weren't sure if they had actually beaten the troll or if they had been awarded points for the deed, but Professor Snape seemed to be going out of his way to take twice as many points as they might have gained. You lost track at twenty as you had to focus on the final stages of your potion. Dealing with Harry Potter and his three friends really brought out Professor Snape’s ugly side.

Everyone was in a hurry to leave the classroom once the lesson was over. And that wasn’t just the Gryffindors. The other Slytherins rushed out too. They clearly didn’t want to spend any more time with your Head of House than strictly necessary. Not when he was in this foul a mood.

But maybe Daphne wasn’t the only one with a dangerous level of curiosity. You hung back and decided to test your luck and ask Professor Snape about his injury. He wouldn't **** his favorite Potions student... right?

“What do you want, Gaunt?” he got up and seemed to be standing gingerly on his bad leg.

“I noticed you were injured and was concerned,” you answered. “Are you alright, professor? Did the troll get you last night?”

“None of your business,” Professor Snape spat. “Get out, Gaunt!”

Against your better judgment, you didn’t flee the classroom. “With all due respect, sir… when we arrived here at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall said our house would be like our family. You’re our Head of House so that makes you family. I’m an orphan but even I know that it is a family’s business when one of their own turns up injured.”

Professor Snape blinked in momentary surprise then went back to glaring at you.

You decided to switch to a more practical approach. “Look, Professor Snape, do you really think I’m going to be the only Slytherin to ask about this?”

Those dark, tunnel-like eyes were locked on yours. You knew he could read minds so you tried to mentally convey your feelings of genuine concern. “I’d hope that the other Slytherins would have the common sense not to stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

“Maybe, but I know that everyone who sees you is going to be curious,” you countered. “Do you really want to deal with that? You don’t even have to tell me what really happened. You can tell me whatever you want and I’ll spread it around so no one else has to ask.”

Professor Snape stared at you and to your immense surprise actually seemed to be considering telling you something. “Very well. When the troll got loose I left the Great Hall to defend the Forbidden Corridor. I was bitten by the dangerous magical creature that is being stored there. Because the wound was inflicted by a magical creature it will take some time to heal.”

“The Headmaster was serious when he talked about suffering a most painful ****?” you questioned. Most of the Slytherins thought that was just the Headmaster being loopy.

“Yes,” Professor Snape said then motioned to his injured leg. “And if the creature there can do this to me. Just imagine what it could do to you. When you tell the other Slytherins about this be sure to impress upon them that the Forbidden Corridor is to be avoided at all costs.”

You weren’t sure if the story was true but you had absolutely no interest in investigating the Forbidden Corridor now. “Thank you for telling me, professor.”

The other Slytherin first years were waiting outside. It appeared as though there was some truth to the bit about your house being family and family members showing concerned when one of their own is injured. Or maybe they were just as curious about Professor Snape's injuries as you were. What set you apart from them was that you were the one who was brave/stupid enough to actually ask Professor Snape. And you were also the one who was cunning enough to actually get an answer. Whether or not it was a true answer remained to be seen.

“Do you think that’s true?” Draco asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied. “That’s the story he gave me so that’s what we’re going to tell everyone. I’ll trust you and Parkinson to spread it around Slytherin.”

If nothing else, Professor Snape had just ensured that no one in Slytherin would go anywhere near the Forbidden Corridor and the deadly creature that lurked inside it.

From there, the weather got colder as you officially entered November. The first Quidditch match of the season was approaching and Quidditch fever had overtaken the school. You, like many other first years, were excited to see your first Hogwarts Quidditch match. It would have been even more exciting if you were playing in the match. But over the course of the last month, you had come to terms with that and accepted that you were only going to be a reserve this year. You tried not to be too envious while you and Draco watched from the sidelines as Flint, Pucey, Warrington, Bletchley, Bode, Derrick, and Higgs soaked in the praise from the rest of Slytherin as they prepared to ‘wage war’ against Gryffindor.

When the big day finally arrived, you and Draco got a head start and made your way down to the Quidditch pitch. You were happily holding your newly purchased Omnioculars.

“When did you get those?” Malfoy asked.

“I ordered them last weekend,” you answered. “I thought they’d help me scout the Gryffindor Chasers. They arrived Thursday morning at breakfast.”

“I wasn’t at breakfast on Thursday!” Malfoy complained. “I slept in since we had Quidditch practice and Astronomy on Wednesday night. You should have told me you were ordering them so I could get my father to buy me a pair of my own.”

“Too late now,” you said. “But if you do end up getting a pair of your own, there are a few things you should know: a regular pair of Omnioculars costs seven galleons.” You idly fingered the extra triangle-shaped knob with a button on it that powered your Omnioculars’ special feature. “This is a special custom pair that can record three one-minute bursts of action and store them to be viewed later. I paid a galleon for each extra minute so it ended up coming to ten galleons.”

“You still should’ve told me,” Draco complained before the stalked off in a sulky mood.

“E-excited for the m-match, Mr. G-Ga-Gaunt?”

You tensed and your grip on your Omnioculars tightened as Professor Quirrell came up behind you. There were a few other students who were heading down early so you at least felt safe that the suspicious Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor wouldn’t try anything funny with these witnesses.

“Yes, professor,” you answered with measured politeness, “I bought these Omnioculars in order to do some scouting.”

“Ah, y-yes, I ha-heard that you were R-reserve K-keeper for the S-Slytherin t-team,” Professor Quirrell remarked. “In fact… I also heard th-that you are a g-gr-great deal b-better than Mr. B-Bletchley.”

“Well… I did better than him at the tryouts,” you admitted, “But Flint decided that he wanted someone bigger. Plus I’m not allowed to have my own broom as a first year. So unless something happens to Miles Bletchley to prevent him from playing - I’m grounded this season. Not that I wish for anything bad to happen to him, of course.”

“Of course,” Professor Quirrell agreed in a quiet, stutterless whisper, “Let us hope that everyone playing today remains healthy.”

You gulped and your grip on your Omnioculars tightened even further. Professor Quirrell strode off ahead of you and as you glanced around, you saw that none of the students walking around you seemed to have heard the sinister professor’s ominous threat.

Damn, that man was creepy! And why did he always choose to be creepy around you? The man was dangerous. He’d taught you a borderline dark hex to use on Harry Potter and you were near positive that he was the one who let the troll loose on Halloween to serve as a distraction. For what end? You weren’t sure. Professor Snape had told you that he’d gone straight to the Forbidden Corridor after leaving the Great Hall. Maybe he’d done that to defend it from Professor Quirrell and not the troll like you’d initially suspected. Professor Quirrell was deceivingly clever and he was so good at playing the stuttering fool that anyone you told about your suspicions would laugh at you for being intimidated by him.

You did your best to put Professor Quirrell's continued odd behavior out of your mind and made your way into the stands. You climbed up to the top of one of the green and white Slytherin towers and since you were early you had your pick of all the seats and claimed a seat in the middle of the front row. Some people preferred to sit higher but this seat would not only provide you with a bird’s eye view of the pitch and was also close enough to the Slytherin hoops that you were in a perfect position to see the Gryffindor Chasers as they rushed at Bletchley.

People filed in and the pitch gradually filled as the start of the match got closer. You made use of the time by testing out your Omnioculars. Across the pitch in the red and gold tower, you saw a sign that read ‘Potter for President’. Someone had drawn a Gryffindor lion below it and the paint flashed different colors. Below the sign, you saw Granger, Weasley, Longbottom, Finnigan, and Thomas sitting together. They all seemed to be in high spirits.

“There he is!” you looked back and saw the other Slytherin first years climb up into the tower. Minus your sulking roommate, of course.

“Where’s Draco?” Parkinson asked. “Didn’t you two go ahead to save us good seats?”

“He’s upset I didn’t tell him about my new special Omnioculars,” you answered. “He went off on his own. If you want to sit with him, I’d suggest searching the other tower.”

“Fine, let’s go!” Pansy decided. Crabbe and Goyle followed after her. But the others didn’t. Theodore glanced down the long staircase and shook his head then came over and sat down next to you.

“Didn’t feel like climbing down and back up again, huh?” you asked him with a teasing grin.

“...” you received a silent nod in response.

“And you didn’t bring a book,” you noted. “I’m glad that you recognize that there’s a difference between coming to tryouts and an actual match.”

“...” Nott remained silent as per usual but gave you a look that clearly said ‘obviously’.

The others seemed to share in Theodore’s logical **** to climb down and all the way back up again just so they could sit with Draco Malfoy so they came to sit by you on the front bench. Blaise and Millicent sat down on Theodore’s other side while Daphne and Tracey sat on your other side. The six of you took up most of the front row.

Tracey still had trouble meeting your eye after you had seen her knickers last week. Meanwhile, you tried to avoid being alone with Daphne so you could avoid her questions about Professor Quirrell.

“Looks like the firsties took our usual seats.”

You sat up straighter at hearing the familiar voice and looked back to see Gemma standing behind you with her tall, dark haired friend Lysandra and a blonde-haired fifth year girl that you didn’t know.

“Sorry,” you apologized, “I didn’t realize these were your seats. I got here early and claimed this spot so I could do some scouting for next year.”

Lysandra shrugged, “They’re short enough that we should be able to see over them.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Gemma retorted. “There’s enough room that we should be able to squeeze in. Nott, Bulstrode, Zabini -- budge over.”

You saw Theodore roll his eyes with an expression that said ‘saw that coming’ as he slid over. Gemma plopped down in his vacated seat beside you.

“You two... move,” the unknown blonde girl said as she stood behind Daphne and Tracey.

Daphne folded her arms across her chest. “We got here first so this is our spot. If you want to sit in the middle, you can sit behind us and look over our heads. And if you want to sit in the front row, you can sit on the end.

The blonde fifth year grunted and sat down on the other side of Tracey. The younger blonde squeaked and slid over to make room which resulted in Daphne being pressed into your side.

You were glad that Pansy had chosen to sit somewhere else. You didn’t want to have to deal with her commenting on your blush from being sandwiched between Gemma and Daphne. Personally, you felt that the curvy, auburn-haired seventeen-year-old was more pleasant to be pressed up against than the thin, and somewhat bothersome thirteen-year-old witch in your year.

“Gemma, it looks like you might have some competition,” Lysandra remarked from the end of the row. “Greengrass is practically sitting in Gaunt’s lap.”

“You’re the ones who squished us together,” a blushing Daphne retorted.

Gemma laughed it off but you couldn’t help but notice that her hip was pressed flush against yours from the other side. You weren’t complaining about this seating arrangement. It was just nice that Parkinson wasn’t here to tease you about it.

“So… scouting, huh?” Gemma asked.

“Yeah, do you know anything about the Gryffindor Chasers?”

“I know Oliver Wood better,” Gemma admitted, “He’s in my year and he became the Gryffindor Keeper in our third year. Charlie Weasley was the Team Captain then. He and Wood worked together last year to rebuild the team with younger talent since most of the older players graduated over the last two years. Weasley recruited his twin brothers as Beaters and another second year Angelina Johnson as a Chaser. I think there was another girl that they had as a reserve but I can’t remember her name. She didn’t play last year.”

“Her name’s Alicia Spinnet,” the blonde fifth year supplied from on Tracey’s other side. “Compared to the Weasley twins and Johnson she’s as quiet as a mouse. Professor Vector told me that she’s the only Gryffindor third year taking Arithmancy.”

“That left Wood with only another Chaser and a Seeker to recruit,” Gemma resolved. “Which means he’s got three new players debuting today. One of which is Harry Potter.”

“Flint did a lot of rebuilding this year too,” you stated.

You raised your Omnioculars and casually scanned the stands opposite you as you waited for the match to start. You spotted a familiar purple turban in the black and white tower that was designed for professors and visiting guests. You swallowed hard as you remembered Professor Quirrell’s ominous threat from earlier. You were extremely relieved to see that Professor Snape was seated in the same section. Hopefully, he would be able to prevent whatever mayhem Professor Quirrell had planned.

“What’re you looking at?” Daphne asked as she somehow leaned closer in an attempt to see through your Omnioculars.

“Nothing!” you blurted out as you set them back on your lap.

The stands were soon filled with fans and the two teams came flying out onto the pitch. An older boy’s magically amplified voice sounded through the pitch. “Hello and welcome to Hogwarts’ first Quidditch game of the season! Today’s game -- Slytherin versus Gryffindor!”

“That’s Lee Jordan,” Lysandra informed you and the other first years. “He’s a third year and is friends with those annoying Weasley twins. He started doing commentary last year. He tends to be biased towards Gryffindor which is why McGonagall has him closely supervised this year.”

“Who did commentary before him?” you inquired.

“A crippled Ravenclaw named Murphy McNully," Lysandra answered. “He was a die-hard Quidditch nerd. He knew his statistics and he showed up in his chair to every game out of sheer love for the sport. Hopefully, McGonagall will keep Jordan on a tight leash.”

The Gryffindors wore scarlet red robes while the Slytherins wore dark green. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the pitch waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand. She released the Bludgers and the Golden Snitch from the trunk then ordered everyone to mount their brooms and blew her whistle. The match had officially begun!

Fifteen brooms shot into the air and Madam Hooch lobbed the Quaffle up into the air where it was quickly seized by one of the Gryffindor Chasers.

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too--”

“JORDAN!” Professor McGonagall’s voice interrupted him.

“Sorry, professor.”

The older boy had a point though. You eyed Johnson with your Omnioculars as the Gryffindor Chaser sped down the pitch. Her dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and determined expression all made her look rather fetching. The older girl was either fifteen or sixteen which meant that the third year girl filled out her scarlet Quidditch robes in a manner that certainly caught your attention.

“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve.”

You turned your focus to Alicia Spinnet. She had dark hair and dark eyes like Angelina Johnson but while Angelina’s dark skin was a chocolate brown, Alicia’s was more of a tanned caramel that made you vaguely curious about her racial background. Spinnet filled out her red robes in a different way than Johnson. Her waist was wider and her arms appeared to be a bit thicker. You watched as Alicia hurled the Quaffle back at Angelina but had a perfect vantage point to see Marcus Flint swooping in from the other direction.

“Back to Johnson and -- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle. Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there.”

You watched as Flint shot up into the air so was above the hoops as he entered the scoring section then released for a powerful downward spike. He’d used the same tactic on you during practice. The trick to blocking it was to avoid being blinded by the sun shining from overhead and to smack the Quaffle even further downward so it went under the hoop instead of through it.

“He’s going to sc-no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood.” And that’s exactly what the Gryffindor Captain did. “And Gryffindor has the Quaffle -- that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger.”

You focused on the final Gryffindor Chaser. Katie Bell was rubbing the back of her head and had a faintly glazed look in her hazel eyes. Tough break for her. Her first match and she takes a Bludger to the back of the head. You guessed that she was a second year who managed to make it onto the team in her first tryout. This probably wouldn’t help her nerves and you hoped that she didn’t have a concussion. Bell’s hair was golden blonde and her pinkish skin had gone pale after getting hit in the head by that Bludger. The extra paleness made it more apparent that Katie was the vanilla to Angelina’s chocolate and Alicia’s caramel.

All together the three Gryffindor Chasers made for an attractive, racially diverse trio and you found yourself rather eager for a chance to play against them next year.

Daphne elbowed you. “What’s with that grin? Are you sure you’re only scouting them?”

“Yes,” you replied, “I’m just imagining what it would be like if I was playing Keeper.”

You turned your focus back to the match where Pucey had claimed the Quaffle after Bell had lost it but then lost the Quaffle himself while dodging a Bludger sent at him by one of the Weasley twins. Angelina Johnson was in the perfect position to recover the Quaffle.

“And Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she’s really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead -- come on, now, Angelina -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!”

G 10 - S 0

You turned the knob on your Omnioculars to replay the action then pressed the button on the special triangle knob to record the play. Once again you watched as Johnson faked to the right which caused Bletchley to dive early and left the opposite hoop open for her to score. The attractive third year girl was crafty like a fox. You liked to think that you could’ve seen the fake coming and blocked the shot but there was a distinct difference between watching from a distance and actually playing in the match.

The game went on. “Slytherin in possession. Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds towards the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?”

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

A scarlet blur shot down from overhead as Harry Potter dove after the Snitch on his new Nimbus 2000. Higgs had seen it too and dove along with Potter. Neck and neck they hurtled towards the Snitch -- all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch. Everyone seemed to be interested in what the Boy-Who-Lived could do.

Higgs lashed out at Potter with a wild elbow. His training with Draco paid off and he caught Potter upside the head. Maybe Granger would brew him some topical bruise remover to use after the match. The first year veered off course then attempted to make up for the ground he’d lost by flattening himself on his broomstick. This gave the first year an extra burst of speed and, combined with his faster broom, he began to pull ahead.

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors while the Slytherins seated near you cheered. Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Potter’s broom spun off course with the Boy-Who-Lived holding on for dear life. In the confusion, the Snitch had vanished from sight.

Madam Hooch scolded Flint then blew her whistle and signaled for a foul. Blatching - flying with intent to collide. Flint had not only broken that rule but had actually knocked into Potter’s broom.

Lee Jordan was showing his bias. “So -- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating --”

“Jordan!”

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul --”

“Jordan, I’m warning you!”

“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet.”

You turned the triangle knob and pressed record as you watched Alicia take the penalty shot. She pulled her arm back and released. Bletchley didn’t want to be caught out diving too early so he hesitated which ended up costing him because Spinnet’s shot whizzed by Miles’ outstretched hand with surprising speed. The extra weight and her thicker arms gave Alicia some extra power. Her throws were very hard and very fast which set her apart from Angelina and explained why she was the one who took the penalty.

G 20 - S 0

“You could’ve blocked that,” Gemma commented to you. “That big brute Burke threw much faster at your tryout.”

You couldn’t help grinning at her confidence in your abilities as Keeper. If Daphne noticed this grin, she thankfully didn’t say anything about it.

Flint intercepted the Quaffle and rushed down the pitch. “Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle -- passes Spinnet -- passes Bell -- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose -- only joking, professor.”

Pucey was there to catch the Quaffle that Flint had dropped and tossed it past Wood through a hoop.

“Slytherins score -- oh no…”

S 10 - G 20

“What’s Potter doing?” you heard Tracey ask as she gazed upward through her binoculars.

“It looks like his broom’s trying to buck him off,” Daphne observed from beside you.

Everyone looked up and started to gasp and point at Harry Potter. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. A loud gasp filled the stands as Potter’s broom gave a wild jerk and the boy swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

“My mother’s fourth husband died in a broom accident,” Zabini reminded everyone. “But in his case, the charms wore off. This looks like a Hurling Jinx.”

A Jinx. You knew that Jinxes required eye contact. And there was one person in Hogwarts that you could think of that had some kind of vendetta against Harry Potter to the point where he’d try to Jinx the first year Gryffindor’s broom.

You focused your Omnioculars across the pitch and saw Professor Quirrell staring up into the air and muttering under his breath. The look in the nefarious man’s eyes was terrifying. Quirrell had told you himself that the most powerful magic was based on intent. And it was abundantly clear that Quirrell’s intent was to hurl Harry Potter off his broom to his ****. You scanned the rest of the staff tower and all the other professors were staring up at Harry with worried expressions. This included Professor Snape. He was also muttering under his breath, and yes, he looked concerned for the first year Gryffindor that everyone seemed to think he despised.

Mr. Morbid decided to speak up again, “If Potter dies will they change his nickname from the Boy-Who-Lived to the Boy-Who-Died?”

“Zabini! Enough!” Prefect Gemma Farley snapped at him. “You’re bothering Bulstrode and Nott. One more morbid comment about a student dying and I’ll take points.”

You looked to your left. Both Millicent and Theodore looked extra pale. The large girl had a well-documented fear of flying. Or more accurately falling from a flying broomstick. Nott was still a mystery to you so you weren’t sure why he seemed so shaken.

At this point, Harry was barely hanging on to his broomstick. Everyone was on their feet staring up at Harry in horror. The Weasley twins were circling below him in the hopes of catching him if he fell. Play on the field had stopped. Pucey, Warrington, Bletchley, Bode, Derrick, and Higgs were all watching in silent horror. Johnson and Spinnet had flown over to Bell who was shaking and looked like she was having some kind of fit. Perhaps she had fears about falling and getting hurt in her first Quidditch match and was now projecting those fears onto their dangling Seeker? The only player still focused on the match was Flint who took the opportunity to score another five times on the empty hoops while Oliver Wood was completely distracted by his Seeker’s plight.

S 60 - G 20

You turned your attention back to the staff stands and the murderous Professor Quirrell. But suddenly your attention was grabbed by a bushy head of hair. Hermione Granger bowled over Professor Quirrell and knocked the distracted professor headfirst into the row in front. She had no idea that Potter was already saved.

You looked up to see that Potter’s Nimbus Two Thousand had stopped jerking.

But the muggleborn wasn’t done. You found her again crouched behind Professor Snape. She pulled out her wand and whispered a few well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot out her wand onto the hem of Professor Snape’s robes.

It took your Head of House about thirty seconds to realize that he was on fire. You saw him yelp before Hermione scooped the blue fire off him into a little jar in her pocket and scrambled back along the row.

The rule-abiding Hermione Granger… had just set a professor on fire.

You were so shocked by the feat that you went back to a replay then twisted your special triangle knob and pressed the record button then watched her knock over Professor Quirrell and set Professor Snape on fire all over again. You couldn’t help but wonder what made Granger so protective of Potter. Was there some truth to those troll rumors?

“Oh, sure,” you muttered under your breath, “I set a kid who’s charging me on fire for three seconds and it’s a horrible crime. But when she sets an innocent professor on fire for thirty seconds and it’s perfectly fine. Bloody Gryffindors and their double standards.”

“What was that?” Daphne asked.

“Nothing,” you lied.

Up in the air, Potter was suddenly able to clamber back onto his broom then went into a dive and started speeding toward the ground. You saw him clap a hand over his mouth as though he was about to be sick -- he dropped off his broom and hit the field on all fours -- coughed -- and a little golden ball with silver wings fell into his hand.

“I’ve got the Snitch!” he shouted, waving it above his head.

The match ended in confusion and with a Gryffindor victory. "HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

GRYFFINDOR 170 - SLYTHERIN 60

You couldn’t help thinking to yourself that it only would’ve been one hundred fifty to sixty if Flint had let you play Keeper.

“Eh-hem.” You turned and found Daphne’s icy blue eyes locked on you. “You know who was jinxing Potter’s broom.”

“Er… what makes you say that?” you asked.

“Everyone was staring up at Potter… except you,” she noted.

“And you, apparently,” you added.

“You saw something!” Daphne realised. You did not want to begin this line of questioning.

“Oh, look, the match is over!” you announced. “Time to go!”

You sprang to your feet and bolted down the stairs from the Slytherin stands.

“You’re not getting away!”

Dear Merlin, her curiosity knew no bounds! Daphne Greengrass was actually chasing you!