by
Catherine King
Harry’s first Quidditch match was going to be on Saturday, Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. The teams for both Houses practiced, practiced, and, of course, practiced. Harry never felt such a feeling as the one he had now. It seemed he had to win, or he would feel depressed for the rest of his life. After all, he hadn’t won the Quidditch cup until he was in his third year, and he wanted to make it up. Quidditch was where some great scenes in his life had taken place. He’d broken his arm on the field, the same place he had met Cho Chang (you can guess why that was important). Without Quidditch, he never would have gotten his Firebolt, or some of his friends, and Quidditch was something essential, indispensable, purely wonderful.
The last practice on Friday, Harry gave the team a small talk.
“I’m very proud of how you guys are doing. I think that if you concentrate hard, we…we’ll be OK!”
Later that night, Harry had a strange dream. He was playing the game and had brought his team soaring because the people on the Hufflepuff team had all chickened out and the reserves stunk. All of a sudden, the team, the field, and Harry’s Firebolt all disappeared. He was floating in midair. He was urging himself, “This is a dream. Wake up, wake up!” But he couldn’t wake up. All of a sudden, a face loomed out of the darkness. This face looked like a fate that was a thousand times worse than death. Harry’s mind kept screaming, “Wake up for heaven’s sake!” All of a sudden, the fog that was surrounding Harry cleared, and he fell over a cliff. Looking up, that awful face was sneering, sniggering, and now the face was laughing, there was a flash of green light…
Harry woke up screaming.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The team walked out onto loud cheers, banners, and commentary.
“Here come the Gryffindors! Potter, Weasley, Fresno, Washington, Sippi, Sippi, oh, and Sippi,” came Christina Jordan’s voice. “Very good players, yes, yes. And they’ve got Potter, skilled, riding a Firebolt…”
“Jordan!”
“Okay, okay… Hufflepuff team comes on, and I can assure you, folks, that Gryffindor will beat them in a poof - or should I say a Huffle-poof? Ha-haaaa!”
“JORDAN!!!!”
“OK, OK.”
“Potter, Bones, shake hands,” said Madam Hooch, the referee. Harry shook hands with Susan Bones, the Hufflepuff team captain.
“And they’re off!” shouted Christina into the megaphone. “The Quaffle is taken by Sloper, of Hufflepuff -- Whoa! -- A Bludger smack in the kisser! -- Good job to one of the Gryffindor Beaters -- Quaffle taken by Huff - no, slyly stolen by Gryffindor Chaser, Sippi #1, or Jordan -- Hey, there’s two of him! -- Oh, never mind, that’s just his brother. Uh-oh, Jordan’s surrounded - and he passes to Lawrence!”
Meanwhile, in the Bleachers, Hermione, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham waved the 6-year-old banner saying “Potter for President” with the Gryffindor lion underneath. It was a classic (for Quidditch, at least).
“Lawrence quickly speeds with Quaffle, loops both Beaters - now he’s surrounded - Charles is right beneath him, and he - what the --? He stands on his broom - this is Sippi #3 I’m talking about - and he takes the Quaffle from his brother - flows through the players and balls like water - and he - SCORES!! GRYFFINDOR LEADS 10 TO ZERO!!!”
Loads of cheers came from behind the Gryffindor goal posts, but moans from opposite the field.
“And Hufflepuff has taken the Quaffle - I must admit, they are good at flying - Doody of Hufflepuff is near the Gryffindor goal posts - and Weasley saves! - Whitney Fresno, Gryffindor Beater, passes it to one of the triplets -”
Harry’s heart leapt; he had seen the Snitch. It was at the top of the bleachers, way over at the Hufflepuff end of the pitch. No one saw it, because it was behind everyone. Harry tore after it, and Hufflepuff Seeker Damien Flicker saw it too, and they both sped after it. The golden Snitch obviously sensed them coming because it sped off behind the Ravenclaws, the Slytherins, and the Gryffindors. Harry was trying to concentrate on commentary as well as catching the Snitch.
“Hufflepuff leads, 50-60 - no point denying that Bones is a good Beater -Gryffindor scores, time for tiebreaker - wait a second, where are the Seekers? -oh, there they are - never mind, folks - Gryffindor gets a penalty - no score -Hufflepuff penalty - no score - Blugder smacks Hufflepuff Keeper - Hufflepuff penalty - no score - still 60-60 -man, this is boring.”
The Snitch was zip-zip-zipping along, until it pulled out of its circle. (Finally, I can put in some action.)
“HELLO, the Snitch is here - alleluia, now something is actually happening - wait a second - Gryffindor scores - Hufflepuff scores - come on, Potter -and…”
Harry went into such a loop that Flicker got taken by surprise, jumped back, and Harry, at long last, caught the Snitch.
“YES! GRYFFINDOR WINS BY 210 TO 70! TAKE THAT, YOU -”
Meanwhile, the Gryffindor team whooped and hugged Harry. “Hang on,” said Ron. “You wait till the Quidditch final.”
“But Ron,” asked Helen, “will we make it to the final?”
“Of course we will,” replied Whitney definitely, “only 2 more houses to beat.”
“It isn’t that simple,” Harry informed her (while in the locker room). “We have to look at the other House’s records for Quidditch and try to beat those records. Then we will make it to the finals.”
