We survived rewrite

Chapter 6

Sure enough it was November 3 and the first game of the year. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting at the table and Harry was just playing with his food.

"Take a bit of toast or something." Ron said.

"Ron's right, you're gonna need your strength today." Hermione said.

"I'm not hungry." he said.

"Good luck today Potter. Then again now that you proven yourself against a troll playing a little game of quidditch is easier. Even if it is against Slytherin." Snape said.

When he left Harry noticed him limping.

'Hmm, I wonder what happened? He covered his leg a few days ago and it was hurt.' Harry thought.

Sure enough it was game time. They were sitting there listening to Wood but Harry had a little trouble listening. He was nervous because he had never played quidditch before.

Everyone was cheering for one of the teams and Hagrid was with the Gryffindor's.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you." Madam Hooch said.

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

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor. A neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, 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 goalposts, 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 goalposts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

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

Way up above them, Harry was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. This was part of his and Wood's game plan.

"Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be."

Now he was back to staring around for the Snitch.

"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?"

Harry saw it. In a great rush of excitement he dived 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.

His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. Harry tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goalposts - he had half a mind to ask Wood to call time-out, and then he realized that his broom was completely out of his control. He couldn't turn it. He couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him.

No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

Hermione looked out the binoculars. "I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape - look."

Ron looked at him.

He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something - it looks like he's jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?" Ron said.

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry.

His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately.

Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front.

Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row - Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick - he hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

After the game they got back together and headed to Hagrid.