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( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 ) — we must stop meeting like this
The front doors of the castle opened, allowing the school to spill onto the lawn. It was the Quidditch Final, and even Evangeline, who didn't care much for the sport, was in attendance to support Cassius and Apollo (and to keep Juliet from biting Sylvia's head off in the seventh-year Slytherin girl's dormitories).
The Gryffindor team walked out onto the pitch in their scarlet robes, welcomed by a tidal wave of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd were wearing red rosettes, waving ruby flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans such as ❛GO GRYFFINDOR!❜ and ❛LIONS FOR THE CUP!❜. Behind the Slytherin goalposts, however, two hundred people were wearing green: the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Snape sat in the very front row, also wearing green with a very grim smile.
''And here are the Gryffindors!'' Lee Jordan, who was commentator, yelled. ''Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best side Hogwarts has seen in a good few years—''
The snide comment was drowned by a tide of ❛boos❜ from the Slytherin end.
''And here come the Slytherin team, led by captain Nott. He's made some changes in the line-up and seems to be going for size rather than skill—''
More ❛boos❜ ensued from the crowd of Slytherins.
''Captains, shake hands!'' Madam Hooch ordered.
Cassius and Oliver approached each other and grasped each other's hands very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.
''Mount your brooms! Three . . . two . . . one . . . ''
The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air simultaneously. Evangeline watched as Harry sped of in search of the Snitch, Draco hot on his trail.
''And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Greengrass, Greengrass of Slytherin tearing up the pitch — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Greengrass drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina — nice swerve round Flint — duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! — SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!''
Angelina Johnson punched the air as she soared round the end of the pitch; the sea of scarlet below was screaming in delight—
