13 First Game (1/2)
As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.
The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.
Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret.
But it barely had any affect.
But the news that Harry was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and now everyone had another reason to stare at him.
It was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have gotten through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making them do.
Arth gave Harry his book, Quidditch through the Ages, to study.
Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules ever since Arth and Harry, maybe Ron, had saved her from the troll, which was a blessing for Ron and Harry because she would allow the two boys to copy off of her when Arth wasn't looking.
The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and Hermione had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar.
They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Arth noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view.
Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.
”What's that you've got there, Potter?”
”It was Quidditch Through the Ages.” Harry showed him.
”Library books are not to be taken outside the school,” said Snape. ”Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor.”
Arth got up.
”Sir, That is actually my book. I was lending it to Harry because he has a match today. Can I have it back sir?”
Snape blankly stared at Arth before handing the book back.
”It seems I was mistaken, however, remember that library books are meant to be kept within the school. Five points to Gryffindor, this time, it is a warning.”
”He's just made that rule up,” Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. ”Wonder what's wrong with his leg?”
”Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him,” said Ron bitterly.
”You shouldn't say that about a teacher.”
”You just don't know it,” said Ron, ”don't you know that you are the only non Slytherin that he treats equally? He barely calls you out for anything.”
”He must see something inside me that he doesn't see in everyone else.”
”Yeah, like you being an undercover Slytherin spy.”
Arth decided it was worth stabbing Ron in the rib cage with a wand.
The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy, due to Arth's influence, but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway.
Arth just shook his head at the sight before shifting his focus back to a book.
The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheer ful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.
”You've got to eat some breakfast.”
”I don't want anything.”
”Just a bit of toast,” wheedled Hermione.
”I'm not hungry.”
”Then give me that sausage, I'm hella starving.”
Harry passed the sausage over to Arth.
”Are you not worried for him?” Said Hermione with a frown.
Arth just shrugged.
”It really is nothing to be nervous about. If you think about it. The worst thing that could happen is Harry breaking a bone or two. And when it happens, Madam Pomfrey will fix it in a snap. Trust me, I have experience.”
”Harry, you need your strength,” said Seamus Finnigan. ”Can't run on an empty stomach.”
”Thanks, Seamus,” said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.
By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going
on sometimes.
Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.
Arth smirked at the pitiful banner and revealed his own. A majestic lion gave out a loud roar causing the whole stadium to go silent. The scarlet banner slowly floated up towards the sky as the lion aggressively snarled at the Slytherins.
When the Slytherins returned the roar with a bunch of boos, the lion gave another loud roar but this time, it burst into scarlet flames, causing a lot of Slytherins to jump in fright.
Ron stared at the spectacle with wonder.
”How exactly did you make that Arth?”
All of the Gryffindors around him tuned in to listen.
”I used the skin of a dragon for the banner, because it's fire proof, and dragon blood for ink. I had one of the teachers help me in making the lion move, I was inspired by the moving pictures you see, however, I lacked the skill to do it.”
”How did you get such a realistic looking lion?” Asked Hermione.
”I drew it of course.”
Everyone dropped their jaws and stared at Arth incredulously.
”Are you really a first year?”
”Yep, I just read a few course books that cover classes up to the third year. I got the books from my mother, it was from when she was a third year. However, there may be some minor changes to the curriculum so I need to buy next years course books again. It's better to be prepared isn't that right?”
”Amazing...”
Arth was silenced by the deafening cheers that erupted from both sides. The players had entered.
Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.
”Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,” she said, once they were all gathered around her. Arth noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year.
”Mount your brooms, please.”
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.
Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. ”And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too -,”
”JORDAN!” ”Sorry, Professor.”
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.
”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 - 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 - he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take 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 - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's
Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, 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!”
Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins. There was a distinguishable roar from the Gryffindor side as the lion once more burst into flame and was smugly Ewing the Slytherins.
”Budge up there, move along.”
”Hagrid!”
Arth, Ron, and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.
”Bin watchin' from me hut,” said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, ”But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?”
”Nope,” said Ron. ”Harry hasn't had much to do yet.”
”Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin',” said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.
”It's best to just stay calm and wait until he sees the snitch, might be better if Harry went around flying erratically. Might distract the other teams seeker,” said Arth.
When Angelina had scored, Harry had done a couple of loop-the-loops causing Arth to groan.
”Why is he doing that, just pay attention to the snitch you dummy.”
”Let him off,” Ron said rolling his eyes. ”He wants to let off some steam.”
”Slytherin in possession,” Lee Jordan was saying, ”Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward 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.
Harry saw it And so did the Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch -all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.