Albus Potter and the Resurrection Stone (A Harry Potter Fan Fic Story)

Chapter 16: Quidditch Luck

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          As we entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. 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. This afternoon, Sam and I would be playing our first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, we would move up into the first place in the house championship.

          The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful 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 Rose.

          "I'm not hungry."

          I felt terrible. In an hour's time, I'd be walking onto the field.

          "Al. You need strength," said Chris. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

          "Thanks, Chris," I said, watching Chris 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 difficult to see what's going on sometimes.

          Rose joined Chris and Maurice up in the top row.

          Meanwhile, in the locker room, I and the rest of the team were changing into our scarlet Quidditch robes.

          Avril Austen, Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain, cleared her throat for silence.

          "Okay, team," she said. "I want you all to watch out for everyone. We are all younger than the Slytherins but I don't want that excuse for not winning. Right, it's time. Good luck, all of you."

          Sam and I followed Fred and James out of the locker room and walked out onto the field of loud cheers.

          Madam Hooch was referring. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

          From the stands, I heard a singsong voice announcing the welcoming remarks and introducing the members of both teams. I looked up to where the voice was coming from and smiled to myself. Athena Longbottom, a third year Ravenclaw, was today's game commentator. I recognized her at once because she was always coming with her parents when they visit our house.

          "Ladies and gentlemen . . . welcome! Welcome to the first game of this year's Quidditch season!"

          The spectators screamed and clapped. Numerous banners were being vigorously waved.

          "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce . . . the Gyffindor Quidditch Team!

          "The Gryffindor Team Captain and Chaser, Avril Austen (6th year); another Chaser, Samantha Riddle (1st year); the Gryffindor Keeper, James Potter (4th year); Gryffindor Beaters, Fred Weasley (4th year) and Alexander Mackenzie (3rd year); and the Gryffindor Seeker, Albus Potter (1st year)!"

          Loud cheers erupted from the right side of the field. I even heard a roar of a lion from somewhere at the top of the stands. I definitely felt braver.

          "Now, let us also welcome the Slytherin Quidditch Team!

          "The Slytherin Team Captain and Keeper, Humphrey Bogart (7th year); Slytherin Chasers, Stanley Kubrick (5th year) and Walter Gropius (4th year); Slytherin Beaters, Wilfrid Borden (5th year) and Scorpius Malfoy (1st year); and the Slytherin Seeker, Audrey Taylor (2nd year)!"

          Then, the left side of the pitch that was dominated by green and silver exploded with loud applause. And I was definite I heard a snake's hiss from their part of the field.

          "Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," Madam Hooch said, once we were all gathered around her. "Mount your brooms, please."

          We, Gryffindor players, mounted our Skylark brooms while the Slytherin team mounted their Robber Baron Three Hundred brooms. The two said brooms were the latest released.

          Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

          Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. We were off.

          "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Chaser Samantha Riddle of Gryffindor—a brilliant performance coming from a first year. And she's really belting up along there, a neat pass to Gryffindor Team Captain Avril Austen—back to Gryffindor Chaser Riddle and—no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Chaser Kubrick gains the Quaffle and off he goes—Slytherin Chaser Kubrick flying like a falcon up there—he's going to sco—no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper James Potter and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle—that's Gryffindor Chaser Austen again, nice dive around Slytherin Chaser Gropius, off up the field and—OUCH—that must have hurt, hit in the back by a Bludger—Quaffle taken by the Slytherins—that's Slytherin Chaser Walter Gropius speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second bludger—sent his way by Fred Weasley—nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Gryffindor Chaser Riddle 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—"

          That was when I saw Scorpius from my left aim a Bludger towards Sam. I went to Sam's direction and shouted, "Sam!"

          I gestured towards the coming Bludger. Then, my hand caught something. When I opened my palm, I saw a pair of gold wings fluttering dynamically from my hold.

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

          Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

          "He didn't catch it, it was just a coincidence that it flew straight to him," Bogart was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference—I hadn't broken any rules and Athena Longbottom was still happily exclaiming the results—Gryffindor won by one hundred and fifty points to zero in two minutes.

          What a luck!