Stories from the Vault - Hogwarts Mystery One Shots

Basketball

The sun just began to dip behind the tree line of the Forbidden Forest and the heat of the September day broke. Plenty of students were milling about on the castle grounds, enjoying the cool area and the calm before the storm of essays and exams that would hit further on in the year. 

Two boys could be seen near the edge of the training grounds, one stalky and pale, with flaming red hair, and the other tall and broad, his brown hair in a spiky mess. The boys had shorn their cloaks, sweaters, and ties. A pile of red and green cloth lay tossed about in the grass, held fast from any stray gust of wind by two forgotten, battered broomsticks. 

For perhaps the first time, the boys were tired of quidditch. 

"Got it!" yelled Charlie, after he tossed the red quaffle above Barnaby's raised arms.

 The ball hit a discolored brick about fifteen feet above them. They weren't sure why the brick was a shade or two darker than the rest; perhaps a spell had ricocheted from one of the nearby training dummies and effected the stone, or perhaps the caretaker had simply missed a bit when the walls had last been scrubbed. All they knew was it made an excellent target. 

"I must be at least ten points ahead of you now," said Charlie, recovering the quaffle from where it landed in the grass and passing it over to Barnaby. 

"Rubbish," said Barnaby. "You're at least five points behind."

Barnaby took a quick step to the right, but changed direction once Charlie followed him and darted around to the left. Charlie lunged after him, but Barnaby was too fast. He flew by and tossed the ball in the air. It landed nearly smack in the middle of the discolored stone. 

"Sun was in my eye," Charlie muttered, as Barnaby went to retrieve the ball with a smug grin. 

"You two playing basketball?"

Both boys turned. Two Ravenclaw girls were watching them. The girl who had spoken, examined them with expectants eyes, her hands on her hips. 

"Basket...ball?" repeated Barnaby. He looked around, but didn't see any baskets anywhere. "No, this is quafflewall. We've only just invented it."

"Well it looks a lot like basketball to me," said the girl, tossing her long braids behind her shoulder. 

"What's basketball?" asked Charlie. 

The girl's friend, pale-skinned and with dark bangs that nearly covered her eyes, scoffed and glanced sideways at her friend. 

"Pure Bloods," she said to her friend, who nodded. 

Barnaby and Charlie glanced sideways at each other. 

"Basketball is a muggle sport," the girl with the braids explained. "Best sport there is."

Charlie scoffed. "It can't be nearly as good as quidditch." 

"Loads better than quidditch. You actually have to  have athleticism to play, and the scoring system makes sense."

Charlie looked as if the girl had insulted his own mother, or maybe even claimed dragons were worthless creatures. 

"You obviously don't understand the first thing about quidditch," he fumed, his ears going red. 

The girl shrugged. "Maybe not. I confess I've never played, only watched the school matches." 

"It's great," said Barnaby. "You get to fly really fast, and I'm a beater so I get to hit people."

"How about this, then?" said the dark haired girl. "We'll teach you to play basketball, and you teach us to play quidditch."

The other girl's eyes lit up and her muscles tensed eagerly. She reminded Barnaby of when kneazles get down on their legs, ready to pounce on their litter mates in a play-fight.