Eternal Patience

Champions

Barnaby sat in the changing room along with his teammates, dressed in their green quidditch robes, staring off vaguely as Sinclair delivered his pre-match rant. Barnaby had tuned out after about five minutes. It was mainly death threats. 

His stomach squirmed. They were so close to the cup. He wanted to win, for his teammates, his house, and himself. The lions had a lot of talent on their side, but the Slytherins had been more dedicated to practicing, and they were faster. No one was certain what the outcome would be. 

Barnaby took deep breaths, and reminded himself that he had a simple job. Protect his players, hurt the other players. He was glad Sarah was a beater. Beaters were at the bottom of his hit-list. 

He still couldn't believe how many people had approached and advised him break things off with Sarah before the match. "Gryffindors and Slytherins can't get along, anyway" they said. "Don't let yourself get distracted during the match." He was glad so far no one had found out he'd nearly thrown the match for her. 

Barnaby's fellow beater, Michael, nudged him when Sinclair picked up his broom, ending his speech. 

"It's that time," he said. The others stood, stretching out their stiffened muscles before grabbing their own brooms. "For Slytherin." He sounded as if her were leading them into battle rather than a school quidditch match. 

"For Slytherin," they repeated, then followed their captain into the tunnel. 

Barnaby heard the rustling sounds of the crowd and his pulse quickened. He felt his body tense, yearning to get up in the air.

"Hello witches and wizards and welcome to this year's quidditch cup!" Murphy McNully, the Gryffindor commentator, called over the crowd. "Firstly, out of the southern tunnel, we have the Gryffindor Team!"

Cheers erupted and McNully called out the players' names and positions. "And their competitors, here comes the Slytherins!" 

Barnaby mounted and kicked off after Sinclair and the rest of the chasers. He soared around the pitch a couple time while McNully announced their names,  coming to hover in the air at the ready for Madam Hooch's signal. 

There was slight overcast today and a gentle breeze. Good quidditch conditions. Barnaby looked into the faces of the Gryffindors, each one giving a ruthless stare to match the Slytherins.' He winked at Sarah. She pretended not to notice, but he saw the corner of her mouth twitch in a smile. 

Madam Hooch kicked open a crate. Barnaby caught a glimpse of the tiny, golden snitch before it zoomed off over the crowd and out of sight. No matter. That wasn't his responsibility. He stared down the bludgers as they exploded from the trunk. The bat in his hand twitched, eager to begin swinging. 

The quaffle was in the air. As soon as it began its descent, Barnaby veered his broom around and took off after a bludger, maintaining visual of the other beaters in his peripheral vision. 

He swatted the bludger at Skye Parkin, who just managed to dodge it, but in her distraction she didn't notice Lindsey, a Slytherin chaser, pump the quaffle from her grasp and snatch it. 

Satisfied, Barnaby set off in search of another bludger. 

The game lasted for hours. The two teams were so evenly matched, it would have to come down to which seeker caught the snitch, but the little orb wasn't in the mood to be found. 

The Slytherins were so fast that Barnaby didn't have to worry too much about defense; the Gryffindor chasers could hardly keep up and the beaters could hardly swing their bats fast enough. He was having a nearly equally hard time hitting the Gryffindors, though.