❝HOW COME YOU NEVER TRIED FOR SEEKER?❞
❝I ENJOYED AIMING BLUDGERS AT YOU TOO MUCH.❞
The Gryffindor Quidditch Team finally has some real competition. And Harry Potter is totally conflicted.
warning: this book has many mature, NSFW scenes that contrib...
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HARRY WAS GOING to have a good day. From the moment his eyes had opened — well, from the moment he put on his glasses — he had been sure of it. His mood had been so incredibly superb that he thought Ron had injected Liquid Luck or some other marvelous concoction into his bloodstream. Despite the intrusive thoughts of Indi — no, he wasn't even going to think her name — of a certain Beater from Slytherin, he had gotten the best night of sleep he had gotten since... well... maybe his third year.
His scarlet and gold Quidditch sweater warming his shivering arms and his slowly numbing hand gripping the length of his Firebolt, the Gryffindor Quidditch team began to prepare for practice. All in all, he was satisfied with the outcome of the team: he had Ron playing Keeper (he wasn't Oliver Wood, but he was pretty good), Ginny, Demelza Robins, and a third year named Jordan playing Chaser, plus Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peakes as Beaters. Oh, and Harry played as Seeker.
"Good weather," Ritchie Coote remarked as he mounted his broom, tilting his head back and squinting from the sun. "Winds not bad."
"Not bad at all," Harry said pleasantly, mounting his broom as well and drumming his fingers along the top of it. "Right, so — I was thinking we'd do some —"
"Er — Harry?" Just as Ron interrupted, there was a loud WHOOSH! and Harry saw something in the air out of the corner of his eye. Shifting his gaze over towards the entrance to the field, he watched as one — two — three brooms soared out from the door and into the sky. For a moment, he wondered if had forgotten someone on the team, but when he spotted the green and silver uniform, he felt his mood soil itself.
"You're kidding," He muttered to himself as Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Miles Bletchley flew over them in circles like three crows. "Hey!"
Zabini finally noticed them, his head tilting downwards. Harry could hear him let out a loud guffaw and point at the Gryffindors below; Malfoy laughed loudly as well, continuing to circle about. Clenching his jaw, Harry turned to look back towards the entrance where he saw — are you kidding me? — Indiana Jones and a younger girl he didn't recognize entering the field. Jones had her broom in one hand and a trunk in the other, probably holding the Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch.
When Jones spotted the Gryffindors, she almost halted for a moment, taken aback, before a wicked grin creeped over her lips and she continued to strut towards them. She had a sort of bounce to her step; not a happy-go-lucky bounce, but a sort of swaying that you'd see on a runway. He had the fleeting memory of the first time he had ever seen her play; he had been dreadfully intimidated by her in his second year.
QUIDDITCH PITCH 1992
"FLINT!" OLIVER WOOD bellowed at the Slytherin Captain as several people in green and silver robes came walking onto the field, shiny broomsticks in their hands. "This is our practice time! We got up specifically! You can clear off now!"
