chapter twelve : quidditch final
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It was obvious that the Quidditch final was coming nearer and nearer. June had to fit her homework around Quidditch practic every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Oliver. The Gryffindor—Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin were leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Oliver constantly reminded them) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.
"So you must only catch it if we're more than fifty points up," Oliver told Harry constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, haven't you? You must only catch the Snitch if we're —"
"I KNOW, OLIVER!" Harry yelled, making June pull Oliver away from him.
"Give the kid a break, Oliver," she would then say. "He knows what needs to be done."
The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since Charlie had been Seeker. But June doubted whether any of them, even Oliver, wanted to win as much as Harry did. The enmity between Harry and Draco was at its highest point ever. Which June didn't like since she didn't want to pick sides.
Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their houses was at breaking-point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth-year and a Slytherin sixth-year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.
It wasn't until two days before the match that June finally snapped.
"Oliver, stop pacing around. You are making everyone even more nervous!"
Oliver, who had been pacing the common room, sank down on the couch next to the black haired girl after their teammates had murmured in agreement.
"I can't help it," Oliver sighed. "Tomorrow, someone from Puddlemere United will be coming to see the match and I really need to impress them, June."
"And you will," Juniper assured him. "You're the best Keeper Hogwarts has seen in a long time."
Oliver looked grimly. "I hope that will be enough."
"It will be," June replied. "Now, relax, Merlin, you're a nervous wreck."
"I think I'll repeat the plays once more," Oliver said, jumping up and hurrying up the stairs to his dormitory.
June sighed and sunk further in the couch.
"That'll be you next year," Angelina said, nodding at the stairs.
"Probably."
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All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books, June noticed.
There was a great deal of noise. Fred and George were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver was crouched over a model of a Quidditch pitch in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself. Angelina, Alicia, Katie and June were laughing at Fred and George's jokes.
It came as a relief for everyone when Oliver suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"
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They entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. June couldn't help grinning broadly as she saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were clapping them, too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. June noticed that Draco looked even paler than usual.
Oliver spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the pitch before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.
"OK . . . no wind to speak of . . . sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it . . . ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kick-off . . ."
Oliver paced the pitch, staring around with them behind him.
"Everything will be fine, Oliver," June assured him, walking beside him.
Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spill onto the lawn.
"Changing rooms," Oliver said tersely.
None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. June's hands shook when she closed the buttons of her robe.
In what seemed like no time at all, Oliver was saying, "OK, it's time, let's go . . ."
They walked out onto the pitch to a tidal wave of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them or brandishing banners with slogans such as 'GO GRYFFINDOR!' and 'LIONS FOR THE CUP!'
Behind the Slytherin goalposts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.
"And here are the Gryffindors!" Lee yelled, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Black, Spinnet, Johnson, Weasley, Weasley and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best side Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —"
Lee's comments were frowned by a tide of 'boos' from the Slytherin end.
"And here come the Slytherin team, led by captain Flint. He's made some changes in the line-up and seems to be going for size rather than skill —"
More boos from the Slytherin crowd. June, however, thought Lee had a point. Draco was easily the smallest person on the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.
"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch said.
Flint and Oliver approached each other and grasped each other's hands very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.
"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch sais. "Three . . . two . . . one . . ."
The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the pitch — WHAM! — nice Bludger there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Black, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Juniper — nice swerve round Montague — duck, June, that's a Bludger! — SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
June punched the air as she soared round the end of the pitch; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight —
"OUCH!" June exclaimed as she was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her.
"Sorry," Flint said, as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"
Next moment, Fred has chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.
"That's what you get when you hurt my friend."
"That will do!" Madam Hooch shrieked, zooming between them. "Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"
"Come off it, Miss!" Fred howled, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Juniper flew forward to take the penalty.
"Come on, June!" Lee yelled into the silence that had descended the crowd. Juniper breathed in, adjusted her grip on the Quaffle and threw. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Juniper smiled broadened, gave Alicia and Angelina a high five before turning her broom to watch Flint. He, still bleeding freely, flied forwards to take the Slytherin penalty. Oliver was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goalposts, his jaw clenched.
"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee told the crowd, as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE SAVED IT!"
Juniper clapped along with the crowd, before taking her place next to Alicia to participate with the next play.
"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! — Gryffindor back in possession and it's Angelina Johnson, Angelina Johnson for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up to the pitch — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"
Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, has swerved in front of Angelina, and instead of seizing the Quaffle, had grabbed her head. Angelina catwheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom but dropped the Quaffle.
Madam Hooch's whistle rang out agains as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Angelina had put another penalty past the Slytherin Keeper.
"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —"
"Jordan, if you can't communicate in an unbiased way —"
"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"
Juniper managed to grab the Quaffle and was now racing towards the Slytherin goalposts.
"And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Black takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, June! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh, no — Flint is in possession, Flint's flying towards the Gryffindor goalposts, come on, now, Wood, save —"
But Flint had scored, there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.
"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —"
It was turning into the dirtiest match June had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Oliver pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.
June scored fifty-ten. Fred and George were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Oliver, they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.
Madam Hooch was beside herself.
"You do not attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within the scoring area!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"
And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal: seventy-ten.
The crowd below were screaming themselves hoarse — Gryffindor were sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs.
Automatically, June's eyes snapped up, spotting Harry. Please, catch the Snitch.
He went for it but was held back when Draco threw himself onto the Firebolt, pulling it back.
"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Draco was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.
"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B—"
Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her fist in Malfoy's direction; her hat had fallen off, and she, too, was shouting furiously.
Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Draco's foul on Harry, were being spurred on to greater heights.
"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —" Lee groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor . . ."
"Juniper Black gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, June, COME ON!"
Every single Slytherin player apart from Draco, even the Slytherin Keeper was streaking up the pitch towards her — they were all going to block her, June realized.
And then, from out of nowhere, Harry shot towards the Slytherins like a bullet, making her way clear.
"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor lead by eighty points to twenty!"
June smiled and turned around to watch Harry only to be met with a Bludger.
"Ouch!"
June fell off her broom and landed hard on the ground. She groaned as she clutched her ribs which were for certain broken.
She could hear Lee call out that Harry had caught the Snitch, meaning they had won.
Oliver flew down to her, sobbing, and helped her up before engulfing her in a hug.
"We won, June!"
Juniper flinched as she was pressed against his chest. Her ribs hurting more than they ever did, but the adrenaline of finally winning the Cup was enough to make her forget it for a while.
The team joined the hug, singing, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!"
June entangled herself from the team to hug Harry.
"I'm proud of you," she said quietly, kissing the top of his head. "You were amazing."
Harry hugged her back, burying his head into her chest, the Golden Snitch still clutched in his hand.
"Thank you, June."
Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the pitch. Hands were raining down on their back. June had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing her. Then she, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd.
Smiling, June punched her fists in the air, enjoying the euphoria that overwhelmed her while ignoring her ribs. She laughed upon seeing Percy, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Oliver, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag.
The team was borne towards the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.
A sobbing Oliver passed Harry the Cup and he lifted it into the air.
June grinned broadly as both Fred and George slung their arms around her.
"We've won, guys."
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Published 4.10.2020
I hope you enjoyed it & tell me what you think of it!
Blimey this is still one of my favorite chapters :)
What's your favorite Harry Potter chapter of all time?