Fred and George and the Toilers of Trouble (Year 1) ✔

Chapter 15:6

A roar of celebration rang through the stands as the students got to their feet.

"Hello — hello! This is Lee Jordan, and welcome to the second Quidditch match of the year!" he cried fervently. "Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor. And here — they — come!"

The cheering built as the Gryffindor team exited their gate in a blur of flying broomsticks. Led by Charlie Weasley, they surged forward and looped in formation around the oval pitch. Fred and George were at the tail end with Keeper, Oliver Wood, their Beater bats held high.

"Gryff-indor! Gryff-indor! Gryff-indor!" the team cheered. The ever-zealous crowd echoed back.

The only students not interested in rooting for the Gryffindor team were coincidentally dressed in the Slytherin colors of green and silver. Those students did cheer, however, when Lee announced the arrival of the Ravenclaw team. In fact, most of them celebrated by setting off crackers, spinning noisemakers, and blaring foghorns to make it quite clear whom they favored to win the match. It was obvious to onlookers that the members of Slytherin House were wholly uninterested in the success of the Ravenclaw team. They primarily wanted Gryffindor to lose.

"Madam Hooch takes to the field!" Lee trumpeted through the uproar. Anything he said after that was lost in a rising torrent of taunts and cheers, because Charlie Weasley had floated to the center of the field to shake hands with Beauchamp, the Ravenclaw Captain and Seeker.

"George," said Fred, as he glided over to his brother. "Look!"

Nearly imperceptible through the freshly falling snow, came a delicate, tawny owl. It was fluttering out from the castle, holding a parcel wrapped in brown paper. The twins watched inconspicuously, as the owl coasted to the arena with unhurried wings. It drifted over the students until it found Professor Quirrell scuttling past a group of fourth years toward an open seat beside Professor Snape. No one noticed how interested the twins were in the package that Quirrell was accepting moments later from the owl's talons, because all of them were engrossed with the release of the Golden Snitch. Their gaze wandered across the snowy sky as they followed its unpredictable flight from Hooch's palm. All the while, Fred and George kept their eyes steadily on Professor Quirrell, as he untied the thin rope that secured the package.

Reflecting on this moment hours later, the twins would realize how silly they had been for not paying attention to Madam Hooch as she unclipped the Bludgers from the crate. Even when one of the whirling balls careened toward them, threading the space between the twins and nearly unseating George from his broom, they were still too busy relishing the unfolding chaos to be concerned.

"Whoa, careful boys," Lee Jordan warned through the enchanted megaphone. "Seems that Bludger is out for blood."

Their friend couldn't have known how right he was. As Lee continued his commentary, Professor Quirrell unwrapped the brown paper to discover a spring-loaded card from the Toilers of Trouble resting atop a wooden box. The spring uncoiled with a thrum, and the envelope whapped his nose.

"Madam Hooch grips the Quaffle as she prepares to start the game, and...er..." Lee reached for his binoculars. "There's someone else down there."

All focus shifted to the field as their headmaster strode across the grass, his sweeping blue garments and long silver hair fluttering in the snow-speckled wind. By his steady, determined appearance, it was clear that something was awfully wrong. Madam Hooch pointed her wand to the clouds, and the Golden Snitch came to a dead stop over the Gryffindor goal posts. Its shiny wings flapped violently in protest, but she kept it steady. The rules stated that the balls were to remain visible until all were released, to avoid calling a draw for potential tampering.

With the Snitch suspended in flight, Hooch followed one of the Bludgers with her wand, preparing to stop it as well, when a wave of hysterical shrieks howled from the stands. A thick cloud had dissipated from the wooden box Professor Quirrell was holding, and the students were evacuating the seats in revulsion as it rained down a deluge of murky green goop. Standing boldly amid the downpour of slime, Snape tore the box from Quirrell's grip and heaved it over the parapet. Fred and George cackled with devious laughter as the cloud remained above the stands, discharging its awful muck upon them, unabated. Based on the queasy expressions of their professors, the odor that the Marauders had alluded to in the journal was perfectly repugnant.

"Lovely," Fred marveled, as the stands emptied.

"Inspired," said George.

Below their broomsticks, and the Bludgers that zigzagged across the field, Professor Dumbledore maintained his alert approach toward Madam Hooch. He then addressed the crowd with a wand at his throat, speaking louder than all the Slytherins combined.

"Please, do remain calm and in your seats."

Dumbledore's voice was so commanding that each of them, even the ones being doused with horrid slime, turned to face him. The players fixed their attention on the headmaster, which caused them to overlook the two impetuous Bludgers that continued to circle the sky overhead.

"I am suspending this match. I request that all students and professors join me immediately in the Great Hall. There has been an incident which —"

He stopped mid-sentence as the first of two thundering Bludgers collided with the Gryffindor Chaser, Shep Quarter. The ball slammed into his shoulder so mightily that it sent him off his broom. He cried out in pain and plummeted twenty feet to the ground, breaking his right arm upon impact. And when he stood, with a tenacious expression, hoping to reassure the team, the second Bludger crashed with full force into his chest, sending him sprawling back to the soft grass.

With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore's lightning reaction halted the Bludgers from doing any further harm to the teams. All of the players, even those from Ravenclaw House, rushed to the ground as Shep gulped for breath, moaning in pain. Madam Hooch dropped the Quaffle in her shock.

"We must get him to the infirmary!" she implored.

"This game is cancelled," Dumbledore announced, his frail, yet formidable voice reverberating through the stands.