MJs Hogwarts Journal Chapter 21

Saturday 2^nd 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 -