Gaunt ~ Book 2

Fourteen~Gaunt

a/n: Same reminder as usual, I'm combining J.K. Rowling's work with my own. Hope you enjoy!

Marvolo was shaken awake by a grinning Malfoy.

"What do you want?" Marvolo asked groggily, squinting into the darkness in the Slytherin dormitories.

"Quidditch practice!" Malfoy said gleefully. "Flint's booked us the pitch!"

"Since when are you on the team?" asked Marvolo, pulling his quidditch robes from the top of his trunk.

"Since now! Flint's made me seeker!"

Malfoy shoved what looked like a broom into Marvolo's hand and hurried to go get his new quidditch robes. Marvolo pulled his robes on and waited for Malfoy to finish. They meet the Slytherin team on the castle steps. All of them had the same, black, clean brooms.

"You've been demoted to chaser," Flint said nastily to Marvolo. "Malfoy's the new seeker. Come on, let's go."

The Slytherin team began walking towards the Quidditch pitch and Marvolo examined his new broom. When Marvolo reached the end, he read something in gold writing. Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Wow. 

When they reached the pitch there were red dots in the sky, throwing the Quidditch balls back and forth. They noticed the Slytherin team and flew down to meet them. It was the Gryffindor team. Wood, Johnson, Spinnet, Bell, Fred, George, and Harry.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

"Plenty room for all of us, Wood," said Flint, smirking.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

"You've got a new seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

Malfoy pushed his way through the Slytherin team with a smirk on his face. 

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

The entire Slytherin team raised their brooms and Marvolo hastened to follow. The words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindor's noses in the sun. 

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust off the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives — "sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Ron gaped, open mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

"Good, aren't they?" Malfoy said smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team would be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You can raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy Mudblood," he spat.

There was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!", and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting in the stomach and sending him reeling backward into the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you alright?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth and onto his lap.

The Slytherin team was paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hangin on his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him. Harry and Hermione grabbed his arms and began pulling him away from the group.

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" a Gryffindor first year had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front.

"Ooh," said the first year, fascinated and raising his camera. "Can you hold him still, Harry?"

"Get out of the way, Colin!" said Harry angrily. He and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds towards the edge of the forest.

The Slytherin team stopped laughing. Barely.

"Come on, let's practice," Flint weezed, clutching at his side.

The team followed him, leaving Marvolo behind. Instantly Fred and George surged on him.

"We know you'll get beaten to a pulp by the team if you leave but you have to help Ron!" Fred said.

"Yeah, you can probably get him to stop barfing slugs!" George said.

"He's going to get beat up?" Oliver Wood said, walking over. "Professor McGonagall said he and Potter were amazing flyers. Even though he's a Slytherin, that talent shouldn't be wasted for the moment. And," he indicated Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the distance, "Hagrid knows more than he does. He'll get Ron up on his feet again."