Daylight || Harry Potter

Chapter Twelve

Our first Quidditch practice of the season had come, and Ron was even more nervous than before. He asked me to help him practice once more, but I had to say no to finish my homework. Harry, on the other hand, despite not being finished with his homework, offered to help.

Later that day, I joined them at the Quidditch pitch. I still had spells for Charms and Transfiguration to practice, but that wouldn't take as much time as the essays I'd just finished. I was feeling extremely pleased with myself for not procrastinating on them. I would probably revert to that particular habit soon, but for now I was making great use of my time.

I quickly changed into my Quidditch robes and waited for everyone else to finish getting ready.

"All right, Ron?" said George, winking at Ron, who was looking extremely nervous.

"Yeah," said Ron.

"Ready to show us all up, Ickle Prefect?" said Fred, emerging tousle-haired from the neck of his Quidditch robes, a slightly malicious grin on his face.

"Shut up," said Ron, stony-faced, pulling on his own team robes for the first time. They fitted him well considering they had been Wood's, who was broader in the shoulder.

"Okay everyone," said Angelina, entering from the Captain's office, already changed. "Let's get to it; Alicia and Fred, if you can just bring the ball crate out for us. Oh, and there are a couple of people out there watching but I want you to just ignore them, all right?"

Something in her would-be casual voice gave me a good guess who uninvited spectators were. Sure enough, when we left the changing room and arrived at the pitch, there was a storm of catcalls and jeers from the Slytherin Quidditch team and their fans, who were grouped halfway up the empty stands Their voices echoed loudly around the stadium.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" Malfoy called in his sneering drawl. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?"

Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson guffawed and shrieked with laughter. I scoffed at their antics. Ron mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground.

"Ignore them," Harry said, accelerating to catch up with Ron. "We'll see who's laughing after we play them..."

"Spoiler alert, it'll be us," I added. "Because we're all fricking awesome."

"Exactly the attitude I want, you two," said Angelina approvingly, soaring around us with the Quaffle under her arm and slowing to hover on the spot in front of the team. "Okay everyone, we're going to start with some passes just to warm up, the whole team please —"

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway?" shrieked Pansy Parkinson from below. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

I rolled my eyes, unable to stay quiet any longer. "Hey, Parkinson, what's with that face, anyway? Did your mom think you were a pug when she gave birth to you?"

Pansy shut her mouth and sat down, fuming. The twins guffawed and gave me a high five each.

Angelina swept her long braided hair out of her face, trying not to look amused at my retort, and said calmly, "Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do..." She raised the Quaffle with one hand and threw it hard to Fred, who passed to George, who passed to me, who passed to Harry, who passed to Ron, who dropped it.

The Slytherins, led by Malfoy, roared and screamed with laughter.

"Seriously?" I muttered.

Ron, who had pelted toward the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to playing height, blushing. I saw Fred and George exchange looks, but uncharacteristically neither of them said anything. At least the two of them had some self-control, unlike the Slytherins.