Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban (#Wolfstar)

Chapter Nineteen- The Finale

Wordcount: 1476

Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, the tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere he went, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harry to get to classes on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd.

Given the circumstances, Remus was having a hard time trying to talk to Harry, since the boy was always preoccupied. It became worse and worse, so Remus just gave up and decided to wait until after the match. He really hoped they would win; once Gryffindor, always Gryffindor.

On the match day, Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall to enormous applause. They were all grinning broadly as they saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. When Harry looked up at the teachers' table, Remus smiled at him and clapped inconspicuously.

When the school spilt out of the castle onto grounds Remus was trailing behind with the rest of the teachers. They walked to the stands and got up on their usual one, Remus chose to sit up front again. It was an incredible view. Three-quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP' Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile. Minerva didn't sit with the Gryffindors, she took her place next to the commentator Lee Jordan.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, as the team walked onto the field. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years --" Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of "boos" from the Slytherin end.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's Made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill--" More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Remus, however, thought Lee had a point. Draco Malfoy was easily the smallest person on the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch. Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..." The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar of the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.

Gryffindor scored almost immediately, beginning the most glorious game of Quidditch in a long time.

And quite the match it was. It was quickly turning into the dirtiest game most of the students had ever witnessed at Hogwarts. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties regularly. The crowd was on the edge of their seat at all times. Remus prayed for Gryffindor more and more. It would be such a disappointment to Harry if he didn't win this, and Remus knew that.

When Marcus Flint scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him. Remus was anxiously jumping up and down in his seat. Then Katie Bell scored for Gryffindor and it was fifty to ten. They had to be in the lead by sixty before Harry could catch the snitch, otherwise, they wouldn't win.

Remus watched Harry circle above the pitch, waiting. Malfoy was keeping close to him at all times. 

"Gryffindor penalty!" roared Madam Hooch again. And Angelina Johnson scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle Out of his hands; Alicia Spinnet seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal -- seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse -- Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Hundreds of eyes were following Harry as he soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Malfoy speeding along behind him.

Suddenly, Harry put on a huge burst of speed. The crowd screamed as he stretched out his hand, but suddenly, the Firebolt was slowing down -- Horrified, he looked around. Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbed hold of the Firebolt's tail, and was pulling it back.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics." Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his broom.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B--"

Minerva didn't even bother to tell him off, she was actually shaking her finger in Malfoys direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously. Remus was enraged, but stayed in his seat and observed. He needed Gryffindor to win this. He hadn't felt emotion like this in ages. The air became more and more desperate. 

Then, every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina Johnson, including the Slytherin Keeper-- they were all going to block her -- the crowd held their breath as Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins.

"AAAAAAARRRGH!" They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina's Way was clear.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty Points to twenty!" 

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field. 

Just then Remus saw something to make his heart stand still. Malfoy was diving, a look of triumph on his face -- there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer; Harry was ages away, but then he noticed too and sped towards Malfoy.

He was gaining on Malfoy -- Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him -- he was at Malfoy's ankles -- he was level -- Harry threw himself forward, took both hands off his broom. He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and --

"YES!" He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in his ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers.

Then Wood was speeding toward him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Harry around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Harry must have had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on him. Then he, and the rest of the team were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. 

Remus smiled and had to wipe away one or two tears as well, as he looked up at Harry with pride. Grinning from ear to ear, he had one arm around Professor McGonagall's shoulders comfortingly, as was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Harry, were Ron and Hermione. Words failed them. They simply beamed as Harry was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.

If only there had been a dementor around... A sobbing Wood passed Harry the Cup and as he lifted it into the air, Remus had the feeling that Harry could have produced the world's best Patronus.