The Prisoner of Azkaban (Hermione Granger X Male Reader)

31. The Final Match: Gryffindor vs Slytherin

(Y/N)'s POV

"Call this a holiday! The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"

A hefty amount of Gryffindor's were sat in the Common Room, all doing heavy amounts of homework they had been set during the Easter holidays. It was an unprecedented amount to say the least. Neville seemed close to a nervous collapse.

(Y/N) had been cursed with his own homework and revision, Buckbeak's appeal (although he shared the responsibility with Ron) and Quidditch practice.

Torture would be one way to define it.

The practices had been upped so there was one every day, not to mention the endless discussion of tactics with Wood.

The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday Carter the Easter holidays. Slytherin were leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points.

This meant (as Wood kept constantly reminding the team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup.

The whole of Gryffindor house was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley (Ron's second oldest brother) had been Seeker.

To say there was both high stakes and high pressure would be an understatement. (Y/N) felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their houses was at a 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.

Harry was definitely having the worst time of it all, though. There was no way he could get to class without Slytherins trying to stick their legs out to trip him. (Y/N) had seen Crabbe and Goyle popping up wherever Harry went, and slouching away when they saw that he had be surrounded by other people.

All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor Common Room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.

She let out a comfortable shoulder for (Y/N) to lean on, literally. He had been so concerned with everything around him that he had missed a lot of sleep. So Hermione let him rest his head and practically wrapped herself around him as (Y/N) tried to get some sleep.

It proved more difficult than he thought it'd be. 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 figurines across it with his wand and muttering to himself. Angelina and Alicia were laughing at Fred and George's jokes.

(Y/N)'s eyelids blinked open and shut slowly, as he drifted off into sleep for the smallest of seconds before waking up.

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead gently as she whispered that everything would be fine.

Eventually, Oliver suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

Surprisingly, (Y/N) had a peaceful sleep, there was no dream to ruin his mood, no memory popping up in his head and causing him to frighten himself awake. It was a fairly normal night.

That was until, Harry. (Y/N) suddenly felt himself being shaken over again with Harry repeating his name, "(Y/N)! (Y/N)!"

"Wha — what do you want, Harry?" said (Y/N) groggily.