Saturday
2nd November
Wow! I have never
known the school to be so lively. Everyone was wide awake by nine o’clock, this
morning. By the time I had gotten dressed and was down in the Slytherin Common
Room, all of the Slytherins seemed to be there. The boys on the Slytherin
Quidditch team were all stood around the fireplace wearing emerald-green robes.
“Come on Marcus!” shouted one of the older girls.
“You
guys ‘ad better win!” shouted some other guy.
Then a
deep chant of, “Slyth-er-in! Slyth-er-in! Slyth-er-in!” began. The captain,
Marcus Flint, made his way through the crowd and towards the entrance – the
team followed him. As the team exited the Slytherin Common Room and began
making their way down the corridor, the Slytherin chants continued. Spotting
Jed, I walked alongside him and the two of us joined in chanting Slytherin’s
name all of the way until the Great Hall.
Breakfast
once again felt like a feast. It was a huge fry up. There were sausages, bacon,
eggs, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms and toast. All of the jugs and goblets were
filled to the brim with orange juice too. I scraped as much as I could onto my
plate – and apparently so did everyone else. I’d never seen the serving plates
so empty. Only a couple of slices of cold toast and some dribbling of runaway
beans remained. Whilst I was eating, everyone seemed to full of energy. Even
the teachers were excited. Professor McGonagall sported a thick, woollen scarf
in her house’s colours, scarlet and gold, as did Professor Sprout in yellow and
black. Glancing around the room, I noticed that a lot of older students seemed
to be wearing scarves that matched their house colours. I guess they are a
little bit like the scarves that football fans wear, just without any writing.
Actually, I kind of like them. Slytherin’s is green and a sort of grey. I
definitely want one. Maybe I could ask my parents for one and call it a compulsory
winter uniform requirement. It is getting colder after all and the castle
doesn’t have central heating.
We all
stayed in the Great Hall until eleven o’clock, when we were led out to the
Quidditch pitch by Madam Hooch. Once we got to the pitch, everyone appeared to
sit together in their houses; however, I managed to grab Josie on the way
outside and convinced her to sit with me and Jed. “Do I have to go?” Josie had
sighed.
“Of
course you do,” Jed exclaimed holding out his hands, unable to understand why
Josie was even the slightest bit against it. “It’s Quidditch.”
“It’s
not compulsory,” she pointed out looping her thumb through her shoulder bag’s
strap. “I’d rather be in the library.”
“Come
on,” I told her. “It’s just one game.”
“There’re
only six a year,” Jed told her. Josie gazed down at the floor as we made our
way into the stands.
Finding
places to sit wasn’t too difficult. We kind of got shoved into the centre of
the Slytherin stands, which was fine by me. We had a pretty clear view all the
way down onto the Quidditch pitch. Jed sat to my left and Josie was to my
right. I had hoped to sit near Pansy, Scarlett and Priscilla too, so that they
could get to know Josie better, but the three of them vanished somewhere in the
wave of the crowd.
While
we waited for the game to begin, Professor McGonagall announced that Lee Jordan
(a Gryffindor Third-Year) would be commentating the game, which could be heard
similarly to the commentary of any Muggle sport. I know that it obviously
wasn’t a microphone and speakers, like back home, but let’s just say that
whatever Lee Jordan was speaking into had a similar effect.
The
stands were all decorated as well. Unlike the first time I was here, when we
got to watch the Slytherin Quidditch team’s practice, there were scarlet, gold,
green and silver streamers that spread all of the way across the stands. There
were banners representing each of the four houses covering the edges of the
stands too. This sort of created an enclosed stadium type of effect around the
outside of the Quidditch pitch, compared to the open and empty appearance of it
when I was here before.
As
Madam Hooch and the two teams walked out onto the pitch, Jed promised that he
would give me and Josie a second-by-second relay of the entire game, being as
it was out first match. I could feel my stomach burning with excitement. I was
seconds away from witnessing my first ever Quidditch game. How exciting.
Looking over at Josie though, I sighed. Lifting up the flap of her bag, she
pulled out a Transfiguration textbook, placed it on her lap and began flicking
through the pages. Nudging Josie’s arm I told her, “You’ll miss the game.” She
just hummed in reply, without even flickering her eyes from the page.
“And
they’re off!” announced Jordan as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.
“Johnson
got the Quaffle,” Jed sighed. “Great
start,” he muttered as he rolled his eyes. “Johnson’s one a Gryffindor’s
Chasers.” Leaning forwards, I put my elbows on my knees, curled my hands up and
rested my chin on top of them. “Wow, she’s really
flyin’,” Jed went on. “She’s passed it to…” he paused. Hearing Jordan say the
other Gryffindor’s Chaser’s name, Alicia Spinnet, Jed repeated him and
continued his own commentary. “She threw it back. No? Yes, Flint’s got the
Quaffle,” he cheered. Most of the Slytherin crowd threw their hands up and
cheered. Flint raced with the Quaffle back down the pitch, shooting in and out
of all of the other players. He was really fast. “He’s gonna score,” Jed
whispered. “He’s gonna score… Aarw, stopped by Wood – he’s Gryffindor’s
Keeper,” Jed added. As the Gryffindor Keeper threw the ball back into play,
another girl on Gryffindor’s team caught it and zipped in and out of the
Slytherin players on her broomstick. She was fast too. Very fast. “Katie Bell
nearly pushed Flint of his broom,” Jed warned. “An’ they say Slytherin play
rough.”
An:
‘Ooow,’ rang out over the pitch as Chris Warrington beat a Bludger into the
Gryffindor girl. The Quaffle flew from her hands. “Yes,” Jed cheered, as Adrian
Pucey caught the ball. He sped back towards the goalposts and was about to
throw the Quaffle in when the Bludger ball hurtled towards him. Throwing my
hands to my mouth, I gasped.
“Nice
play by the Gryffindor Beater,” said Lee. “Sorry Fred, George – I can’t tell
which one a ya’s which.”
The
Quaffle was taken back and forth and back and forth time and time again, before
our Keeper, Miles Bletchley had his first shot at saving, but dove the wrong
way and let Gryffindor score. The stadium rang out with cheers, as us
Slytherins booed and hissed as loud as we could.
Upon
hearing how loud the cheers were, I noticed looking around at the other three
stands, that they all seemed to be supporting Gryffindor. When I voiced my
opinion to Jed, he told me, “Don’t worry, MJ, everyone’s j’st routin’ for the
underdog. Slytherin’s won the Quidditch Cup every year since I can remember.
Every year since Vince ‘as been Chaser anyway.” He gave me a smile, which I
returned, and he carried on with his commentary.
On the
opposite side of the stands to us were the Gryffindor team. To the left were
Hufflepuff and to the right, Ravenclaw. All three houses had a collection of
flags and banners of red and gold colours. Folding my arms, I wrinkled my nose
up at them. They were obviously just jealous that our team was better. I did
notice though that several of the banners were supporting Harry Potter. He was
the newest and youngest member of our opposing team. From the chanting and
cheering of his name, it sounded as though people actually thought that he
could make a difference to the game.
“The
only reason Potter’s on the team’s because McGonagall favoured him, ‘cause he’s
famous,” Blondie complained. He, Crabbe and Goyle were sat in the seats
directly in front of me, Jed and Josie. “McGonagall’s just favouring her own
house.”
“It’s
not fair,” I muttered.
“You’re
right – it’s not,” Josie agreed, glancing up from her book. Blondie turned
around to face us. Having heard Josie’s comment, he smirked at her.
“You
agree?” Blondie said, surprised. Pulling her jacket around her, Josie nodded.
“Yer hear that boys? Even Josie’s against Potter.” Crabbe and Goyle, on either
side of him, turned around. Josie blushed a little, as they stared at her.
“MJ,”
Jed said as he nudged me. “Nearly a knockout there.” I shuddered, realising
that I hadn’t been paying attention.
“Arh,
Jed,” said Malfoy with a slight nod of his head. He swivelled around on the
bench and leant over his left shoulder, so that he was closer to Jed. “I didn’t
see you there.” Jed nodded back.
“Yer
alright, Malfoy?” asked Jed. Blondie nodded and him, before smirking in my
direction. As I found myself smiling back, Blondie and his two copycats turned
back around to continue watching the game.
Josie
went back to reading, while I tried to follow along with what was happening.
After Gryffindor’s ten points, Marcus Flint stole the Quaffle from Katie Bell
and shot down the pitch. Lobbing it over Wood’s head, the ball flew through the
hoop. Jumping up out of our seats, all of Slytherin cheered. As the Quaffle was
back in play, Jed’s cousin grabbed it and managed to dodge two Bludger balls
from the red-haired Weasely twins when Lee Jordan gasped, “Was that the
Snitch?” Having caught the Quaffle from Vince, when he swerved out of the black
cannon-like balls way, stupid Adrian dropped it at the mention of the Snitch.
In fact, a lot of the players seemed to forget what they were doing completely.
Everyone’s heads just shot around as they searched for the tiny, golden, winged
ball. Potter must have spotted it, for he sped towards Adrian’s left. Our
Seeker, Terence must have spotted the Gryffindor’s sudden movement, because he
hurtled after him.
While
the fight to catch the Golden Snitch went on Marcus, Jed’s cousin, Vince, and
Adrian went on to score Slytherin forty more points. I think that Marcus got a
little annoyed that people were watching Potter more than him though, because
he pinched Graham Montague’s bat and whacked one of the Bludgers in the
Gryffindor boy’s direction. Madam Hooch wasn’t very impressed. “Foul!” she roared,
blowing three times on her whistle.
“This
is bad,” Jed muttered running a hand through his curly hair. “Gryffindor get a
free shot now.” Lee Jordan started shouting that Marcus was cheating – okay, he
might have done, but he had good
reason to. The other houses starting booing. This was really getting intense.
“Send
him off!” a group of Hufflepuff’s shouted.
“Off!
Off! Off! Off!” Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw started to chant. I
noticed Josie sink lower into her seat beside me. Lifting her book in front of
her face, I couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed to be sat with us or if she
was really just trying to read.
In the
end Madam Hooch had to blow her whistle to get the other houses to stop
shouting. Luckily for us, Marcus didn’t get sent off. But the Johnson girl did
get a free shot at throwing the Quaffle into one of the hoops, managing to
score another ten points for Gryffindor. Groans and sighs echoed throughout the
Slytherin stands. “It’s okay,” I told Jed as his shoulder sank. “We’re still in
the lead.”
As if
to retaliate from the chant against him, Marcus raged down the pitch. Snatching
the Quaffle from Spinnet, he sped past a Bludger and punched the ball over
Wood’s left shoulder. “Nooo…” cried Jordan, as we Slytherin’s broke into a
cheer.
Now I
don’t know whether this was Potter’s turn for attention or whether he forgot
how to fly a broomstick, but he started swerving all over the place. He wobbled
to the left. Sneering, Chris Warrington bashed a Bludger in Potter’s direction.
Wobbling even more, he flew downwards, before shooting back up and towards the
right, dodging the cannonball altogether. “Either that kid’s crazy or a
bloomin’ genius,” Jed muttered under his breath. I had to agree. It was as if
the Gryffindor Seeker was dancing about on his broom – showing off, I bet. It
seems like that’s all that boy does. He gets himself into so much trouble in
Potions, he makes it onto his house’s Quidditch team, even though he’s a year
too young, he’s already some celebrity and now he decides to show off his
flying skills in the middle of the first Quidditch match – he is a brave one.
Tilting
too far to the right, Potter slipped off the edge of his broom. My heart banged
against my ribcage. I may dislike him, but I would never wish him any harm –
especially not falling off his broomstick from such a height, and in front of
so many people. Throwing a hand up, he managed to grab on just in time, before
he hurtled to the ground. I let out a breath – not realising that I’d been
holding it. “Stupid Potter,” I heard Blondie jeer. “Can’t even stay on your own
broom – pathetic.” The broom was still moving though, even with Potter dangling
from it.
“Can
brooms even do that?” I asked Jed.
“I
dunno,” he replied. “I don’t think so. Something’s wrong.” As soon as Jed said
that, the broom stopped quivering. Potter threw his other arm over the
broomstick’s handle and heaved himself up. However, as soon as he had mounted
his broomstick again, it appeared to spiral out of control. Potter plummeted to
the ground.
Everyone
gasped. Hands were flung over mouths and eyes, as people couldn’t bear to see
what had happened. It felt like an anvil dropped through my stomach. My hands
shook, as I held them to the sides of my face. Peering over heads, I curled a
hand to my mouth as I stared down at the lump of robes on the ground. I
sniffed. It moved. My eyes widened. Underneath the pile of fabric, Potter
crawled to his knees. How that kid managed to be alive after that fall, I’ll
never know. Beating a hand to his chest he began to cough. “I’ve got the
Snitch!” he shouted as the small golden ball plopped out of his mouth. “I’ve
got the Snitch!” Holding it in his hand, he waved the shimmering ball above his
head, for us all to see. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw all broke into cheers
and screams of delight.
“And
that’s one-hundred-and-seventy points to Gryffindor!” Lee Jordan cheered. “And
sixty to Slytherin – Gryffindor are the winners!”
*
The day ended a lot
more differently compared to how it had started. After the match was over, us
Slytherin’s all retreated back into the Slytherin Common Room, while the other
houses celebrated our downfall in the Great Hall (Jed and I lost track of Josie
in the crowds on our way back to the castle). Everyone was down, following our
Quidditch defeat. Some Sixth and Seventh-Years didn’t even bother hanging
around in the Common Room and went straight to their rooms to bed.
Slumped
in chairs and drooped against walls, everyone began grumbling on about how
unfair the match was. Everyone was so depressed. I didn’t think I would ever
hear the end of it. Quidditch really is the heart and soul of each house.
Flopping down on the sofa beside Priscilla, I could feel my pulse thumping in
my ears.
“He
didn’t catch it, though!” raved Marcus Flint for the hundredth time, once we
were all gathered in the Common Room. “He nearly swallowed the bloomin’ thing!
That ain’t fair!” Marcus was right. It didn’t seem fair, but there was no point
in shouting about it all night. No matter how many times he said it, it was
never going to change anything. Squaring up to one of the Beaters, Marcus began
a row. “You coulda stopped ‘im, ya know!” the captain roared.
“I
stopped ‘em from scoring, didn’t I?” one of them yelled back.
“We
can’t do everythin’,” shouted the other.
Poking
Priscilla on the shoulder, I suggested to her and the girls that we should try
to sneak off to our room and they agreed. Marcus Flint, Chris Warrington and
Graham Montague seemed to be a violent lot – especially when they were in a
mood. I just hope that it all calms down tomorrow.
-
Josie -
