The day for the Slytherin-Quidditch match dawned on a very bright, but very cold November day. Edmund was waiting in the Entrance Hall, bundled up in a large green-and-silver scarf, matching hat and a large coat. He watched everyone walk past him, buzzing about the match to come, placing bets, and once again, obsessing over Harry Potter. Harry Potter who, in their flying lesson with Madam Hooch, had flown after Malfoy- who had taken a fat Gryffindor's Remembrall- and been awarded with the Seeker position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The youngest in a century.
Suddenly spotting his sister in the throng, laughing with one of her Ravenclaw friends, he pulled his hat further down over his head, praying that she didn't see him.
"Hello, little brother."
His heart sank when he realised that it wasn't Susan, but someone even worse. Peter.
"Go away," he growled, while his brother pulled his hat off his head.
"What's the matter, am I ruining your Slytherin 'bad boy' image?"
"Give it back," Edmund protested, trying to snatch his hat back. "Just leave me alone."
"Who's this Edmund?" Draco Malfoy asked as he emerged from the crowd, Crabbe and Goyle lingering behind. Peter gave them a once-over and rolled his eyes.
"Well if it isn't Draco Malfoy. You sure know how to make good friends, Ed."
Malfoy frowned and looked to Edmund for an explanation.
"He's my brother," he spat with all the venom he could. "He's a stupid Gryffindor."
Malfoy nodded, then narrowed his eyes at Peter. "A blood traitor too, I reckon. Don't blame you for keeping him a secret."
Peter gave an exaggerated gasp, and clutched his hand to his chest. "Do you mean to tell me that you never told him about me, Ed? Or Susan? Wow, I am hurt."
A couple of Peter's Gryffindor friends appeared behind him and they all left for the pitch, laughing, with Peter still holding Edmund's hat.
Cheeks burning, Edmund turned to Malfoy. "Now you see why I kept him secret. I hate him. My sister, too. She's a third year Ravenclaw and they're both Muggle-lovers."
"Let's just forget about them," Malfoy said after a long silence, and Edmund breathed a sigh of relief. He was sure he'd just lost his only friend. "And focus on the match. Potter may be the youngest Seeker in a century, but that doesn't mean he's any good."
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Peter saw Susan on the way to the pitch and ran to catch up with her and her friend.
"Just seen Ed," he explained as his friends ran up behind him. "Give him this next time you see him will you?" He handed her the hat. "He's a right idiot."
Susan took the hat. "What did you say to him?"
"Nothing. Just said hello and made fun of his friends."
Susan glared at him. "You are such an idiot, Peter. He's a first-year, and his only friend now probably hates him because of you. You've got to think how he feels, not just think about yourself all the time."
Peter looked outraged, but before he could say anything, the Weasley twins ran up to them. One of them- he could never tell which- put his arm around Susan and said, "Ah, if it isn't the love of my life."
"Shut up, Fred," Susan growled. "Shouldn't you be at the pitch?"
He rolled his eyes. "Nothing can stand in the way of true love, Su dearest. Although, now you mention it, we should probably be off. It pains me that I must leave you, but it is for the best," he said, clutching his free hand to his heart. "Of course, if you agree to a date with me this Hogsmeade weekend, it will make the parting sweeter."
"No way," Susan said. "I'd rather take the Giant Squid."
Fred just laughed. "Well, have fun with him. I'm sure that you'll have a great time," he jeered and he left, his brother in tow.
Peter gave Susan a look, but she ignored him. "Don't you have a brother to bug?"
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There was a collective scream of, "FOUL!" from the Gryffindor stands and Susan winced.
Harry Potter had just been blocked- purposefully of course- by the burly Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint after seeing the snitch.
"I hate Quidditch," she murmured to herself for the hundredth time that match. She always went to matches, because the atmosphere was good, but she hated the game itself, especially when Slytherin played. There was always too much violence. And Harry Potter was too young to be playing Quidditch; there was a reason why first-years were banned.
"Just leave then," her friend, Holly, told her. Holly was actually a part of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and she loved the game, so she always got annoyed whenever Susan went on one of her rants. "Wait- what's happening? What's he doing? Is Potter an- someone's cursed his broom!"
Susan glanced up to see Harry rolling around on his broom and being jerked around. "Oh gosh," she said, suddenly feeling sick. "He's going to die!"
There was a horrible few moments when Harry was still jerking and rolling, then he suddenly righted himself. There was a large yelp from the teacher's stand and she turned to see Professor Snape stamping out the flames that had suddenly sprung up on his cloak. She gasped. Holly turned to her, confusion alight on her face.
"What?"
"Snape jinxed Potter."
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