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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄, this day, it's shaping up to be the most eventful one yet. The Quidditch pitch was alive with roaring cheers and ear-splitting screams, the energy crackling through the air as the highly anticipated finals unfolded before me.
"SLYTHERIN SCORES! GRYFFINDOR IS SO COOKED! IS THIS THE GREATEST COMEBACK OF ALL TIME? GRYFFINDOR MIGHT HAVE SCORED WELL AT THE START BUT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN FEAR NOT BUT SLYTHERIN IS BACK ON THE GAME!" the commentator's voice boomed.
Annoyed murmurs and protests erupted from the Gryffindor stands, while the Slytherins practically exploded with triumphant shouts, their voices merging into an overwhelming, deafening chant. Some students were already getting into heated arguments, fists clenched, tempers rising. Typical.
I slumped onto the bench, drowning my disappointment with a gulp of water as I watched the Slytherins skilfully pass around the Quaffle. My gaze flickered to the crowd—students draped in house colours, banners waving, chants shaking the air. And of course, not a single soul was actually sitting.
Everyone was standing hanging on the railings blocking my view cheering on by waving flags and wearing Gryffindor merch. I don't understand the point of having seating in the Quidditch stadium if no one uses it anyways, it's just a waste of maintenance and repairs.
It's annoying when you can't get the view and everyone is just standing, dancing and blocking. I let out a frustrated sigh, hoisting myself onto the bench and lifting my binoculars to find my girlfriend Lily who was probably on the pursuit for the golden snitch.
I caught a glimpse of her, red hair flowing in the current of the wind. She wasn't darting through the air in pursuit of the Snitch. She was hovering aimlessly, exhaustion written all over her face, boredom. She looked drained, like she was simply waiting for the Snitch to come to her. She looked gorgeous.
Even though I don't care about Gryffindor winning this match or not. I care about Lily and her passion toward the sport. I really hope she wins the match and brings back the trophy. She gave her blood, sweat and tears for this. I don't want the light in her eyes to dim. I want to see her smile. That bright, full, smug smile.
