THE WITCHING HOUR ➸ h. potter

10 - the match

As we entered November, the weather turned cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray, and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning, the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaver skin boots.

The Quidditch season had also begun. Which meant that on Saturdays, Harry and I would be playing in our first match after weeks of training. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, we would move up to second place in the house championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry or I play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, we should be kept, well, secret as well — but the news that we were playing as Chaser and Seeker had leaked out somehow.

It was really lucky that I now had Hermione as a friend. I didn't know how I'd have gotten through all my homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practices Wood was making us do. She had also lent me Quidditch Through the Ages, which actually turned out to be a very interesting read.

I learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul, and all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473. Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them — I had worried about that a lot, but Harry had told me not to, even though he had seemed pretty shaken up himself.

And that, although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

All in all? The research I had done was only making me feel worse about everything.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved us from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before our first Quidditch match, the four of us were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured us up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar.

We had been standing with our backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. I noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I moved closer together to block the fire from view since we were sure it wouldn't be allowed.

Unfortunately, something about our guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a good reason to tell us off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was Quidditch Through the Ages, which I had given him after reading it myself. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," Ron spit out bitterly.

I would have usually complained or glared at Ron for saying something like that, but I just nodded. Snape deserved it.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let us copy hers — "How will you learn?" — but by asking her to read it through, we got the right answers either way.

"Guys, I really want to finish that book," Harry suddenly said. "I'm going to ask Snape for it back."