𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗 - ʳᵉᵍᵘˡᵘˢ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ

Chapter 16: Victory Party

[ December 16th, 1977 ]

     EVERY MEMBER of the Hogwarts student body waited with baited breath. It started raining minutes ago, just as was planned. Up in the commentators tower, Theona cracked her neck, preparing for the performance of her lifetime: pretending not to know the upper hand her friends had in this match.

     Slytherin vs. Gryffindor games always elicited a large audience, this time however, the crowd was so large Theona couldn't help but wonder how all of them fit inside the castle. It was the last game before winter holidays, and the rematch that everyone had been waiting for.

     "Remember, Miss Bell, keep the energy up," McGonagall chimed in, staring at the Ravenclaw over the top of her glasses.

     "It won't be hard," Theona smiled, eyes flicking around the buzzing pitch.

     Introductions started shortly after, each team entering the field member by member. Madame Hooch reiterated the same speech about fair play that she always did, almost putting Theona to sleep. She didn't stay bored for long, as soon enough, the players were up in the air, waiting for the countdown.

     Theona cleared her throat, leaning forward, "On the count of three: one, two, two point five-"

     McGonagall gave her a stern look.

     "Three!"

     The game started in a flurry of red and green. Rather festive, Theona thought.

     "And we're off!" She announced, her eyes locking onto the quaffle, "Dolohov, number seventeen, starts the game in possession of the quaffle! He may not have speed on his side, but he sure is a force to be reckoned with. Rumour has it he's knocked more players off their broom with his own body than Barty Crouch has with a bludger!

     "He's zipping across the pitch. Or more like floating. Slow and steady wins the race, and also puts the audience to sleep. Finally, after a millennia he's taking his shot! Ooh, and Flunk blocks it with the grace of a ballerina. Quaffle's now turned over to Prewett, number twenty-one, and he's not quite as easy to follow as Dolohov. He passes to Potter, number one, who under hands it to McKinnon, his number two. Crouch seems to be trying to prove me wrong, sending a bludger straight at McKinnon. She dodged it with ease. Sorry, Crouch, you'll get her next time, sport."

     When her attention landed on Crouch, she was filled with immense satisfaction. Yes, he had missed, but not because of a lack of skill. Rather, he missed because he was too busy tapping his ear, wildly looking to Regulus. Theona's eyes followed his gaze, finding the captain with a look of frustrated confusion.

     "McKinnon scores, leading Gryffindor ten to zilch! Let's hear those cheers, Gryffindor!" She absentmindedly proclaimed, her focus solely on Regulus.

     His furrowed brows which were once a result of confusion, were now a side affect of anger. She couldn't help but grin at that.

     The game continued on until Gryffindor was up fifty to twenty, and no evidence of the snitch was seen, causing Regulus to call a timeout.

     Theona watched as the two teams gathered on either side of the the pitch. On one side, red and gold appeared to be thrilled, feeling optimistic about the outcome of the long awaited match. On the other, green and silver seemed enraged, Regulus red in the face as he yelled at his players.