Eight

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I haven't updated this... for like almost a month.

 for like almost a month

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Harry hadn't flown... for like four days.

And now, Harry knew four days was practically equal to forever.

Soaring above, Henry gave him a fierce glare before scanning the area. He was moving too much, making the bludgeons target him. Harry, on the other hand, stayed still while at the same time looking for shiny golden snitches.

"PERCY!" Henry shouted while wizzing around. "CAN YOU CONJURE US A SCOREBOARD?" The quiet bookworm, no wait, Harry was the bookworm. Let's say... Book-fly, sighed again, and conjured a working scoreboard.

Harry hadn't ever needed to conjure a scoreboard, but it looked interesting, so obviously he wanted to try.

But not now. Now, he was playing Quidditch.

"HENRY'S TEAM SCORES! HENRY'S TEAM LEADS 10-0!" The scoreboard screeched. Harry almost fell off his broom, but he was much too professional to do that.

The quiet- no wait. His name was Percy. Percy had conjured a working, talking scoreboard that sounded like a dying bird.

Great.

How was he supposed to live up to the best wizard in history if he couldn't beat this Percy guy?

Sure, he could conjure a Patronus, but conjuring a working talking scoreboard was still way cooler.

Harry leaned a little bit to see the scoreboard, and it shifted to let him get a better view.

Nevermind. This was not a talking working scoreboard. This was a walking and talking and working scoreboard.

Harry mentally scolded himself for not looking for the snitch. He urged the broom - it was a very nice broom: Nimbus 1999 or something. It was fast and surprisingly easy to control; he had lived with brooms from the founder's time: what did you expect the brooms to be like?

Anyways, he urged the broom to go towards the other side of the pitch, when a bludger plummeted out of nowhere and flew towards him. He swerved on his broom out of instinct, and the bludger (it keeps autocorrecting into blunger) flew past and started chasing Ron.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry had seen Henry's eyes widen. (A good seeker should pay attention to every corner of his maximum vision.) He guessed that meant that Henry was not able to move so fast on a broom.

And then it was Harry's turn to widen his eyes.

Just above Henry's ear- no, now his head- oop- his shoulder now- never mind. Just next to Henry was the golden snitch, flopping around. Harry calculated his chances in his head. If he charged at Henry, there was a good chance that Henry would think he was lunging to knock him off his broom, but he could also notice the snitch... but if he stayed here, then Henry might notice the snitch-

Oh. Now the snitch flew off, so there was only one thing to do now.

Race Henry for the snitch.

Hary lunged, and Henry, spotting Harry do so, lunged too.

Huh. Henry was pretty dumb.

Harry had formulated a plan in his head. Don't chase the snitch directly: lean towards the left. Be slow, not fast. Let Henry surpass you. Make sure he wouldn't notice if  you left the course. When he is in front of you, veer right. Catch snitch.

It was a pretty good plan.

With one flaw.

Henry was insanely slow.

At this speed, the snitch would fly off again, and to who knows where.

So Harry just had to take his chances.

He veered right and charged towards to snitch, leaving Henry and his horrible flying.

He reached out-

And the snitch was in his hand.

...

Guess beating Henry wasn't so hard. There were no chances even needed.

"Wow," Ron commented during dinner

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"Wow," Ron commented during dinner. Obviously no one told him not to talk with his mouth full. "Your really good at flying."

"So?"

"What dya' mean so? Quidditch is amazing!"

"Yeah," Harry said offhandedly. "But what's your point?"

"Henry! Could you tell your brother that he's not making sense?" Ron asked. Harry mentally rolled his eyes. From what he had seen from him, Ron was a Quidditch freak with no manners, but he hadn't been all too bad.

"Psst. Harry!" Henry said, acting like it was a secret, blah blah blah, and he should not say it out loud, blah blah blah, and some more blah blah blah.

Harry swallowed his food before replying, "what."

"Ron says your a pretty good flyer."

"So?"

Henry looked annoyed, but then realized he had forgotten a line.

"Oh, I mean, Ron thinks you're a pretty good flyer, but you're not better than me, even if you caught the stinking snitch, which, by the way, was right on top of your ear, so it wasn't fair."


Hi! normalpeoplezz here!

I haven't updated in forever so I kinda needed to write this.

Unlike some authors, I post my works right after I finish writing them, so I can't post a already-written-but-unpublished-chapter whenever I feel like I've been offline for too long.

Yes. I'm very mad at myself.

Questions?

No?

You guys never comment on my story. (Haha I don't comment on stories either so I forgive you guys)

Word count of 778.

I can never reach 1,000, can I?

I put a link to my Deviant Art account on my profile page, if you wanna check it out

cool

bye

stuff

YA LETS PUBLISH THIS WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- 

(Should I draw my own cover? Yes or no? Wait why am I asking you people don't comment anyways-)

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