Dancing with Danger

thirteen

Winter was drawing nearer and nearer, and so was our first Quidditch match. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor to kick off the season. I play Beater for Slytherin- well, one of them— Mack Wells, a burly fifth year, is the other. A hunger for victory grew stronger and stronger in the common room the Saturday morning of the match.

Our team, dressed in forest green and grey Quidditch robes, made our way down the shifting staircases, trash talking the Gryffindor players. Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, the Gryffindor team was already in their scarlet and orange Quidditch robes, chatting anxiously before they made their way to the locker rooms.

"Remember Harry, catch that Snitch if it kills you," the Gryffindor captain, Oliver Wood,
said briskly while ushering the rest of his team out of the Great Hall and to the locker rooms.

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"Alright team," said our captain and Chaser, Marcus Flint. "We play a load of sissies today, a load of well playing sissies. Malfoy, Rogers, I get you had a little quarrel, but if you haven't already- get over it. We'll win today. We'll win if it kills us. We'll win if we have to play dirty."

"But what if—" Mack said sheepishly while standing up.

"No buts, Wells. Today, we win," Flint said determinedly.

I began to get lost in a daze as Flint went over the plays. He went over the same ones so much, you couldn't keep count on one hand. The time finally came for the teams to leave their locker rooms, our hearts pounding furiously.

Shouts and applause from the Slytherin side drowned out the booing from the Gryffindor side as we walked out onto the field, the Gryffindor team looking quite smug.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch said enthusiastically while Flint shook Wood's hand as if he wanted to tear it off. "Mount your brooms! Three...two...one..."

At the sound of her whistle, fourteen brooms arose in the clear sky at an astounding speed.

"Andddd they're off!" Lee Jordan, a Gryffindor who's almost too invested in Quidditch, yelled through all the cheers and the hollers from both ends of the crowd. "Marcus Flint of Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle...that dirty, rotten scou—"

Professor McGonagall shot Lee a nasty look from a few feet away.

"Alright, Professor, alright. Katie Bell of Gryffindor now in possession, Bell tearing up the field— KAITIE, YOU LOST IT!! Flint of Slytherin now making his way towards Gryffindor goalposts...he shoots, he sc— HE MISSES! GO OLIVER! Great block from Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood, and the Quaffle is back in possession of Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor. OOH! That's going to leave a mark, Johnson hit by a Bludger from Slytherin's Eliza Rogers. Pucey of Slytherin Quaffle...Pucey shoots up the field...anddddd it's ten-zero Slytherin."

The rest of the match had turned into a blur, we were up thirty points, yet they still haven't released the Snitch yet. Adrenaline was coursing through all of our veins and the desire to win grew stronger and stronger by the second.

"Harry Potter of Gryffindor making a sudden dive...for the Snitch? We may never know, Draco Malfoy of Slytherin trailing closely behind...Malfoy's gaining on you, Potter! Pick up the pace already! Potter now in the lead, Malfoy's fast, but not fast enough...Potter making a grab...anddddd— HEY, YOU CAN'T DO THAT, MALFOY! THAT LOW DOWN, CHEATING—"

"LEE JORDAN, IF YOU CANNOT COMMENTATE UNBIASEDLY," Professor McGonagall, now throughly annoyed, bellowed at Lee.

"To be fair, he is a low down, cheating piece of sc—," Lee muttered.

"Lee!" Professor McGonagall shouted.

"Ok ok," Lee sighed while turning his attention away from Professor McGonagall and back to the game. "Malfoy now in the lead...Potter, catch up! Malfoy making a grab...he speeds down towards the ground an— OUCH! What's that in his hand? Agh- alright folks, that's it. This match goes to Slytherin, Malfoy's caught the Snitch."

Malfoy holds up the tiny, shining Snitch that was clasped in his left hand with a look of pride on his face. Relief washed over the rest of the Slytherin team as we darted down towards Malfoy, who was still sitting on the ground admiring all the disappointed faces of the Gryffindor team.

"Stop sitting around, you big baby! Get up, we won!" Mack yelled at Malfoy while extending his hand to help him off the ground.

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That night, the parties raged on in the common room until about two thirty, that's when we began to see people out cold on the armchairs beside the crackling, and slowly dying, fire. The next morning, all the Slytherins awoke to a great sense of triumph that followed us the rest of the week. The Gryffindor team now practicing harder than ever out on the Quidditch field after our astonishing victory of one hundred and twenty to ninety, not counting when Malfoy caught the Snitch.

"That was amazing!" Andrew said at breakfast, constantly replaying the Quidditch match from days ago in his head.

"Ah, it was nothing, I barely even did anything," I laughed while my cheeks turned red.

"You knocked Spinnet and Johnson well away from the goalposts once or twice," Kate said as she shut the almost intimidatingly huge Potions book she had propped up on a few cups. "Have you two heard?"

"Heard what?" Andrew and I said almost simultaneously.

"They're bringing back the Dueling Club," Kate causally said whilst Andrew and I starred in shock.

"Where do we sign up?!" Andrew and I said eagerly as we chased Kate out of the Great Hall.

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there's no quidditch in fourth year due to the tournament, but i just wanted to throw it in there b/c writing this chapter was toooo much fun