The Weasley of Slytherin: The Philosopher's Stone

Chapter 19: The Second Match

"Look — they're off. Ouch!" Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head, and of course it was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer, but I did. "I'd wager he'll stay on longer than you can go without crying for your daddy." I shot back at him.

The Gryffindor team groaned as Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.

"It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

"You know what I reckon Malfoy, I reckon that you'd have to pay to get onto the Slytherin team." I told him glaring, as he glared back at me.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," Neville stammered.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something." Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy — one more word—"

"Ron! (Y/n)!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry —"

"What? Where?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help, I simply shrugged before grabbing Goyle's collar and slamming his head uni the back of my seat.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, as Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, with scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, and Crabbe, while I flung punch after punch at Goyle.

The stands erupted; I assumed it was because of the spectacular headlock I had Goyle in.

"Ron! (Y/n)! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

I looked up to see Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground, before Goyle punched me in the gut gaining my attention.

The rush of Gryffindor's running down to the pitch pushed us away from Malfoy and his goons.

"We'd better get back to the common room." Hermione said, as Ron and I nodded, each sporting a heavy nosebleed.

It took us almost half and hour to push our way to the Gryffindor common room, although Harry wasn't even there when we got there.

"I hope he's alright." Hermione said nervously checking the clock.

"He'll be celebrating won't he." Ron said happily, his nose still dripping slightly.