Loki Odinson and the Prisoner Of Azkaban

Chapter 13; Cheaters

(Told from Loki's Point of View)

Hermione was more pissed off than distraught. She kept saying how much she hated that old hag Trelawney, and she was happy that I left too.

That wasn't my only problem. The Easter holidays were not relaxing, and with all the Quidditch practices Wood was holding, my homework was piling up. I stayed up longer than Hermione each night, I often felt so tired that I fell asleep in random places, and I tried to persuade Oliver to let me skip quidditch practices for naps. None of that worked.

"But we need to win this upcoming match!" He had told me. "We have to crush Slytherin, I can't stand to see them win the cup again—"

"They won't win! It's just that I'm tired and I'm taking so many subjects and I..." I yawned.

"That's no excuse!" He retorted.

I had never seen an upcoming match with such a charged atmosphere. The Slytherins were constantly trying to trip Harry and I, and there was a nasty incident where a Slytherin shot a curse at me. I had deflected it, but it ricocheted off of the wall and into a Ravenclaw fourth year. She ended up in the Hospital with leeks sprouting from her ears.

Harry and I were getting the worst of it. Most Slytherins blamed me for winning the first match and Harry for winning the second, but I didn't give a damn. I just kept out of the way and very frequently disguised myself as a wandering Hufflepuff.

The day of the match had finally come. I wasn't particularly nervous, but something told me I ought to be. The Slytherins were making some violent gestures toward us as we left toward the locker rooms. All I thought was that there was a good chance we would be playing with a lot of cheaters today.

It was a fine day for Quidditch- clear skies, nonexistent wind... I was having high hopes, but it's never a good idea to count your chickens before they hatch.

We emerged onto the field and I immediately looked up at the audience. Waves of green and red filled the stands, but I had drowned out the voices. Lee Jordan was announcing the names while I saw the Slytherin team march out onto the field. They all looked so... big. Apparently the Slytherin Quidditch Captain decided that it would be better if they went for size rather than skill.

We kicked off from the ground. I wasn't expecting much from this game, but little did I know that it wasn't going to be friendly.

It didn't start off well. Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint decided to ram his broom straight into Angelina, and right after that Fred threw his beater's bat right at his face.

It didn't get much better. Even McGonagall and Madam Hooch were beside themselves when Malfoy decided to grab hold of Harry's broomstick as he faked a dive toward the Snitch.

I was hit nearly seven times by the Slytherins, and they were all unfair hits. We were up ninety—zero, but if Harry wasn't going to catch the Snitch soon...

I swerved around the Slytherin beaters to score another goal, but this only angered the Slytherins more. Gryffindor had already gotten about fifteen penalties awarded, but we were still holding up under severe pressure.

Apparently my brilliance was too much for the Slytherins, because when I scored another goal, and the Gryffindors were cheering, I wasn't paying attention. Something hard hit me at the speed of light, and I nearly blacked out. It was probably a beater's bat, but either way my head was throbbing and my vision was foggy.

I drifted off violently, carried by the little wind that there was, and I swerved off into the Slytherin section of the stands.

You might be able to guess what happened next.