Dancing In The Storm •Fred Weasley•

Chapter 16

•This story takes scenes from the Harry Potter series. I want to make it clear that I don't own those scenes. That's owned by
J.K. Rowling. Thank you•

~Scarlett~

Time seemed to pass rather quickly after that night.

The third Hogsmeade trip came and went. The Easter holidays went by rather quickly. The Quidditch Final was taking place in just a few seconds, and the term was about to end.

But back to the Quidditch Final.

I was currently walking with Hermione to the stands. Ron was a little ahead of us, refusing to speak to me.

"Sorry again for sending Ron away," I smiled lightly.

Fred had threatened to tickle me if he saw me pouting during the game, so I was attempting to be in a good-ish mood.

"It's quite alright. Besides, Ron's been a real prat lately. Keeps going on about Crookshanks 'eating' Scabbers," Hermione sighed.
"Crookshanks ate Scabbers?" I questioned, holding back the urge to laugh.
"According to Ron," Hermione replied.

I nodded, continuing up the stairs to the stands.

"Here should be good," Hermione declared, placing her bag down before sitting beside it.
"Brilliant," I stated, sitting next to her.

I could see other Gryffindors brandishing banners above their heads. Some saying, "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and others saying, "LIONS FOR THE CUP!" Behind the Slytherin goalposts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very first row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.

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

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch. Flint and Wood shook hands rather violently.
"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three...two...one..."

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, the wonderful Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no – Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field –WHAM! – nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by – Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina –nice swerve around Montague – duck, Angelina, that's a bludger! – SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione and I stood, clapping and cheering ecstatically.

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field.
"OUCH!"
Marcus Flint suddenly crashed into her, almost sending her flying off her broom.
"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"