wanna be yours

VII. CURSED BROOKSTICKS

chapter seven; the philosophers stone

1991

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

"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 Bletchley dives, misses,  GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

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

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Elodie, Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.

"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.

"Look!" Elodie said and she watched Harry diving downward after the streak of gold. 

Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. 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. Harry was faster than Higgs.

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.

Down in the stands, Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.