Harry Potter and the Rise of the Ordinary Person - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Quidditch Match

That night, the Gryffindor common rooms was especially noisy. Charles, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking up on Harry and Ron’s Charms homework for them. The lolita called Granger was especially caring, but she would never let them copy. But by asking her to read it, they would get the right answers anyways.

Harry had felt restless. He wanted Quidditch Through the Ages back. But Charles, Ron, and Hermione were unwilling to go so only Harry had gone to Snape’s room alone to get it.

He came back soon enough with not even breath to gasp and looking as if he had ran for a very long time.

“Did you get the book?” Ron asked as Harry joined them. “What’s the matter?”

With a low whisper, Harry told them what he had seen.

“Do you know what this means?” Harry spoke breathlessly. “He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That’ where he was going–he was after whatever the dog was guarding! And I’d bet my broomstick that he let that troll in to make a diversion!”

Hermione’s eyes were wide open.

“No, he wouldn’t.” She said. “I know he’s not very nice, but he wouldn’t try and steal something Dumbledore was trying so hard to keep safe.”

“Honestly, Hermione. You would think all professors are saints or something.” Ron interrupted. “I’m with Harry. I don’t doubt that Snape would do something like this, but what’s he after? What could that dog be hiding?” The three of them were absolutely clueless.

“Everything will be all right, we’ll know soon enough.” Charles stretched his hands as he put a finish to the conversation.

Early the next morning, the sky was quite cold, but bright. The Great Hall was filled with the delicious smell of fried sausages and the happy sounds of chatter could be heard from everyone as they looked forward to the Quidditch match.

But Harry was feeling extremely nervous. He hadn’t been able to eat anything while everyone was trying their best to coax him into eating something.

At eleven, the entire school seemed to have gathered around the stands of the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats were raised high into the air, but with so many people there, it would be difficult to see what was happening during the match at times.

Charles, Ron, and Hermione arrived at the top row along with Neville, Seamus, and Dean. Charles had helped them transfigure the large bedsheet Scabber had ruined into a large banner so that it wrote “Potter for President”. Dean, the artistic one, had drawn a large Gryffindor lion on it while Charles had casted a little bit of magic so that the lion would be animated and let out a large roar every so often.

Soon after, the teams from both sides came out from both sides of the pitch. Gryffindor was wearing scarlet red robes while Slytherin wore green. When both teams had assembled on the pitch, the atmosphere had grown quite intense.

Madam Hooch blew into her silver whistle once.

Straight away, 15 brooms rose up high into the air. The Quidditch match had started.

“The Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor–what an excellent chaser she is, and quite attractive too –”
“JORDAN!”

“Sorry, professor.”

Lee Jordan, the friend of the Weasley twins, was the announcer for this Quidditch match and was under close watch by professor McGonagall from the sides.

“Really moving along quite fast there, a clever pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood, last year she was only a reserve player–oh no, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint has stolen the Quaffle, he’s really flying like an eagle up there. He’s going to sco-ah! Stopped by an excellent block by the Gryffindor Keeper Wood. The Quaffle has returned back to the hands of Gryffindor–Chaser Katie Bell–nice dive around Flint. Rising up from the ground and–OUCH! That must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger–Quaffle taken by the Slytherins. Adrian Pucey is now flying off towards the goals, but he’s blocked by another Bludger–whether it was Fred or George Weasley, I can’t tell–a nice play by the Gryffindor Beater anyways. Johnson is now back in possession of the Quaffle, with an open field right in front of her–going fast now! Slytherin Keeper Bletchley diving in to intercept her–misses–GRYFFINDOR SCORES!”

The excited cheers of Gryffindor could be heard while the howls and moans could be heard from Slytherin.

“Budge up there, excuse me, move along”

“Hagrid!”

Ron and Hermione moved aside to give Hagrid room to join them.

“Bin watchin’ from me hut,” Hagrid patted 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,” Ron said, “Harry hasn’t had much to do yet.”

“Kept outta trouble, though, that’s somethin’,” Hagrid replied, raising his binoculars to look up at the tiny speck in the sky that was Harry.

High up in the sky, Harry was flying around while looking out for some sort of sign from the Snitch.

That was the game plan he and Wood had came up with.

“Until you see the Snitch, keep out of the way.” Wood directed to him. “I don’t want you to be attacked while you’re not paying attention.”

After Angelina had scored, Harry had done several loop-de-loops in excitement. Back to his regular mood, Harry began to look around for the Snitch once more. Once, he had caught sight of a flash of gold, but that had only been the reflection from one of the Weasley twins’ watches. Another time, a Bludger had come jetting towards him, but Harry had dodged it and Fred Weasley came up to chase it from behind.

“Doing fine there, Harry?” He yelled out as he chased the Bludger before beating it towards Marcus Flint.

“Slytherin is in possession now,” Lee Jordan explained. “Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds towards the–hold on–was that the Snitch?”

A flash of gold had appeared by Adrian Pucey’s left ear while he dropped the Quaffle, causing people from the crowd to murmur.

Harry had seen it. With great excitement, he dived down towards the ground after the streak of gold. The other seeker, Terence Higgs, had seen it too. The both of them dived downwards–the Chasers had forgotten that they were in a match and seemed to pause in midair to look.

Harry was faster than Higgs–he could see the little round ball with wings beating rapidly up ahead–putting in another spurt of speed–

WHAM! A roar of rage could be heard from the Gryffindors–Marcus Flint had blocked Harry’s path on purpose, causing him to spin off course while Harry held on for his life.

“Foul!” The Gryffindors screamed.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint before issuing a penalty shot. But in the confusion, the Snitch had disappeared from sight.

Up in the stands, Dean Thomas was shouting out, “Send him off, ref! Red card!”

“This isn’t soccer, Dean.” Ron had reminded him. “In a Quidditch match, you can’t send someone off–also, what’s a red card?”

But Hagrid was on Dean’s side.

“They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air.”

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult to not take sides.

“So–after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating….”

“Jordan!” Professor McGonagall had growled.

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul…”

“Jordan, I’m warning you…”

“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, something I bet could happen to anyone. A penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who scores without a problem. Gryffindor still in possession.”

Harry had dodged another Bludger which had spun past his head dangerously. But in that moment, his broom gave an abrupt lurch. For a split second, Harry had thought he was going to fall down. Hurriedly grabbing the broom tightly with his hands and knees, Harry had never experienced such a thing before.

It happened again, seeming as if the broom was intentionally trying to throw him off, but brooms don’t intentionally decide to throw off their own riders. Attempting to turn back to the Gryffindor goal posts, he had kind of wanted to ask Wood to call for a time out. And then he realized he had lost control of his broom, he couldn’t even turn it. The broom began to shake and thrash wildly without a sound as if trying to unseat Harry.

Lee was still giving a commentary.

“”Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle–passes Spinnet and Bell, but a Bludger hits his face! Ha! Hope that breaks his nose–only joking, professor–Slytherin scores. Ah, no….”

The Slytherins were cheering while no one seemed to have noticed that something was up with Harry’s broom. Slowly, it carried him higher and higher out of the pitch while swaying and shaking on the way.

“Dunno what Harry thinks he’s doing.” Hagrid mumbled as he stared through his binoculars. “If I didn’ know any better, I’d say he’d lost control of the of his broom…but that can’t be?”

Suddenly, everyone was looking up at Harry as his broom rolled over, causing everyone to gasp.

Harry had nearly been tossed off by his broom. Struggling to hold on, he was barely able to hold on. Everyone let out another gasp. At this moment, the broom gave one more violent shake, causing him to dangle onto the broom by one hand.

“Did something happen to his broom when Flint blocked him?” Seamus whispered.

“Can’t have,” Hagrid spoke, “Aside from Dark magic, there shouldn’t be anything that can interfere with a broom–no kid could do that to a Nimbus 2000.”

At those words, Hermione grabbed onto Hagrid’s binoculars. Instead of looking up at Harry, she began to look through the crowd.

“What are you doing?” Ron muttered with an ashen face.

“I knew it,” Hermione spoke up, “Snape–look!”

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the stands in opposition to him. His eyes were fixed onto Harry and was muttering something nonstop.

“He’s jinxing the broom.” Hermione spoke.

“No, Hermione.” Charles interrupted, “Quirrell’s doing the jinxing by his side.”

“What do we do?”

“You go to Quirrell. I’ll go to Snape.”

“Okay!” Not even waiting for Ron to speak, Charles and Hermione ran off. Ron turned the binoculars back onto Harry, only to realize that the broom had started to vibrate so hard that Harry was on the verge of falling. How dangerous. The Weasley twins were flying around in an attempt to pull Harry onto one of their brooms, but to no avail–each time they drew close, the broom would fly even higher. Dropping down, they circled beneath him in an attempt to catch him should he fall. At this moment, Marcus Flint had grabbed onto the Quaffle and scored another five times without anyone noticing him.

“Come on, Hermione, Charles.” Ron pleaded desperately.

Hermione had charged towards the row where Quirrell was. Quickly making her way over to behind his seat, she crouched down and took out her wand. Incanting a spell, a burst of blue fire came jetting forth onto Quirrell’s cloak. Charles had done the same spell to Snape.

In about 30 seconds, the two men had finally realized they had been set aflame while Charles and Hermione made a hasty retreat back.

That was more than enough. In the air, Harry suddenly found himself able to swing back onto his broomstick.

“Neville, you can look now!” Ron shouted. For the last five minutes, Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid’s coat.

Harry was speeding back down to the ground. Both hands were clasped to his mouth as if ready to puke. Hitting the field on all fours–he coughed–and then something golden fell into his hand.

“I’ve caught the snitch!” He shouted, waving it over his head, and so the game ended in complete confusion.

“He didn’t catch it, he nearly swallowed it!” Even 20 minutes later, Marcus Flint was still howling in complaint, but it had made no difference–Harry hadn’t broken any rules, and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results–Gryffindor had won by 170 points to 60. But, Harry had heard none of this, thought. He, Charles, Ron, and Hermione were all back in Hagrid’s hut enjoying a nice cup of strong tea.