Chapter 66: Quidditch Finals (2/2)
”Father?” The girl, Rowena, burst into tears. ”I'm sorry father. You warned but I wasn't able to control my powers.”
The man hugged her, ”Don't cry, it's not your fault, that nature made you like me not like your mother.”
”But you hid your powers for years. I —”
”Your powers are stronger than mine. And we're not bad, Rowena. We're just misunderstood, people.” He patted her head. ”Go. Save yourself. Before the King knows. Go, Rowena.”
”But if they don't find me, they'll hurt you.”
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”I'll see about that. You go. Now.” He pushed her towards the other girl. ”Take her. Leave.”
The girl dragged Rowena out of the room. She cried.
Chris woke up with a strange sensation.
'We're misunderstood, people?' Her brain repeated the line. 'It was Rowena Ravenclaw. That's why she looked familiar. I didn't have this kind of dreams for a long time. Why suddenly?' Chris sighed and checked the clock. It was at five o'clock. Ginny was already in the shower. Chris went back to sleep, 'Ginny will wake me up.'
Chris and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall to enormous applause. Chris couldn't help grinning broadly as she saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were clapping them, too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Chris noticed that Malfoy looked even paler than usual.
Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the pitch before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.
”Good luck, Harry!” called Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, and Harry blushed.
”Good luck Harry,” Chris said laughing as they left the Great Hall. Ginny giggled. Harry went red.
”OK — no wind to speak of — sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it — ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kick-off —” Wood paced the pitch, staring around with the team behind him. Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance, and the rest of the school spill onto the lawn.
”Changing rooms,” said Wood tersely.
None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. After getting ready Wood said, ”OK, it's time, let's go —”
They walked out onto the pitch to a tidal wave of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them or brandishing banners with slogans such as ”GO GRYFFINDOR!” and ”LIONS FOR THE CUP!” Colin was clicking pictures and he waved at Chris and Ginny as soon as he saw them. Luna wore a giant lion hat, which roared a few times as she waved at the Gryffindor team. Behind the Slytherin goalposts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.
”And here are the Gryffindors!” yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. ”Potter, Johnson, Norton, Weasley, Weasley, Weasley and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best side Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —”
Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of ”boos” from the Slytherin end.
”And here come the Slytherin team, led by captain Flint. He's made some changes in the line-up and seems to be going for size rather than skill —”
More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Chris, however, thought Lee had a point. Malfoy was easily the smallest person on the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.
”Captains, shake hands!” said Madam Hooch.
Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hands very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.
”Mount your brooms!” said Madam Hooch. ”Three — two — one —”
The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.
Chris caught the Quaffle and saw Flint on her tail. She speeds up her Firebolt and went towards the hoop.
”And it's Gryffindor in possession, Christina Norton of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Chris! Argh, no – Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the pitch –”
WHAM!
”– nice Bludger work thereby George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by – Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina – nice swerve around Montague – duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”
Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the pitch; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight –
”OUCH!”
Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.
”Sorry!” said Flint, as the crowd below booed. ”Sorry, didn't see her!”
Next moment, Fred Weasley had chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed. Chris laughed loudly.
”That will do!” shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them. ”Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!”
”Come off it, Miss!” howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Ginny flew forward to take the penalty.
”Come on, Ginny!” yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. ”YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY– ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”
Flint, still bleeding freely, fly forwards to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.
”Of course, Wood's a superb Keeper!” Lee Jordan told the crowd, as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. ”Superb! Very difficult to pass – very difficult indeed – YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!”
”Wow,” shouted Ginny and Chris together.
Soon, Angelina, Ginny and Chris were tearing up the field with goals. They were already fifty points up than Slytherins. Suddenly Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Ginny, and instead of seizing the Quaffle, had grabbed her head. Ginny cartwheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom but dropped the Quaffle.
”Gryffindor back in possession and it's Ginny Weasley, Ginny for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the pitch – THAT WAS DELIBERATE!” Lee shouted.
Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Ginny had put another penalty past the Slytherin Keeper.
”SIXTY–ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING –”
”Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way –!”
”I'm telling it like it is, Professor!”
Suddenly Harry zoomed towards the Slytherins, everyone thought he saw the snitch. The two Slytherin beaters started to throw the Bludgers towards him. He dodged and went towards the ground as the beaters followed him. Then he turned the Firebolt upwards at the last second, and Bole and Derrick, the two beaters of Slytherin, collided with a sickening crunch.
”Ha haaa!” yelled Lee Jordan, as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. ”Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle – Flint alongside her – poke him in the eye, Angelina! – it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke – oh, no – Flint in possession, Flint flying towards the Gryffindor goal posts, come on, now, Wood, save –!”
But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.
”Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, sixty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —”
It was turning into the dirtiest match ever played. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Angelina with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score sixty–ten to Gryffindor.
Chris scored.
Seventy–ten.
Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.
Madam Hooch was beside herself.
”You do not attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within the scoring area!” she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. ”Gryffindor penalty!”
And Angelina scored. Eighty–ten.
Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Ginny seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal: Ninety–ten.
Harry zoomed again after the snitch but suddenly, the Firebolt was slowing down, Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbed hold of Firebolt's tail and was pulling it back.
”He didn't — he didn't —” Chris muttered angrily and zoomed towards him.
But it was late, the Snitch had disappeared again.
Chris was about to punch him but Ginny caught her and whispered, ”After the match. We don't want to take any more penalties now.” Chris angrily zoomed away.
”Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!” Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.
”YOU CHEATING SCUM!” Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. ”YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —”
Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her fist in Malfoy's direction; her hat had fallen off, and she, too, was shouting furiously.