Isabella Potter; Harry's twin and Snape's daughter.

Part 12

November

  The Quidditch season had finally begun. On Saturday, it will be Gryffindor versus Slytherin. We intend on keeping our spot as house champians.

  Alot of people were joking that since Harry had just found out that he was a wizad he will be having somebody run sround underneath him with a mattress.

  I had noticed Dad limping since Halloween. I asked him about it, but he said not to worry about him and to focus on school.Today was the quittich game 

  

  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. She seemed to be speaking particularly to Marcus Flint, our capitan. 

  "Mount your brooms, please."

  We mounted our brooms.

  Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

  The fifteen of us kicked off the ground and i took my position as keeper. 

"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 Isabella dives — blocked"

  "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 must have saw it, as did our 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.

"What are you doing, just watching?!" I yelled at one of our chasers named Spinnet, he didn't hear me though. If he did did then he ignored me.

  Harry was faster than Higgs and by the looks of it Harry almost has it. 

  WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below — Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on 

for dear life.

  "Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

  Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch 

had disappeared from sight again.

  Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

  "So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating

  "Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

  "I mean, after that open and revolting foul

  'Jordan, I'm warning you —"

  "All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who 

get's blocked b Isabella, again, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

  "Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only 

joking, Professor — Slytherins score — Oh no...

  It wasn't until i had stopped celebrating that i saw Harry. His broom was behaving strangely. It was going higher and higher, jerking and twitching as it 

went.

  Oh no...

  Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him holding on for dear life. Then the 

whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

  I looked like it was being jinxed, i looked around for the culprit. Not seeing anyone exept my Dad muttering something and not blinking. He must be doing a 

countercurse. If not for him then Harry would surely had fallen by now.

  The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good — 

every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus 

Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

   Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

  Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick — he hit the field on all fours 

— coughed — and something gold fell into his hand.

  "I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

  "He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still complaining twenty minutes later, but it made no difference — Harry hadn't broken any rules 

and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results — Gryffindor had won by one hundred and fifty points to sixty.