Sophia Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 12

Snape looked me straight into my eyes and gave me a death stare Professor McGonagall would be proud of. "Oh, my gosh he knows it was me" is what I thought. I dropped my gaze, but couldn't help but smiling. An idea came to my mind that was hilarious and repulsive at the same time. Snape didn't wash the candy out of his hair, he decided to cut the greasy curtain that frames his face instead. Does he really hate showers that much, that he would rather have a bald spot on the middle of his forehead then take one, just one harmless, little shower. "I guess so" I thought. I couldn't resist laughing at the thought and finally I gave up on trying to hide my pleasure at his new appearance. Gazes shifted to me, but I could see that everyone else also had amusement written in their eyes, that is everyone except Snape. Snape looked at me with an evil smile plastered on his face.
My heart dropped. Snape had the power to make the rest of the year miserable for me and I'm sure that this same thought had just occurred to him as well.

The rest of the day went about as well as could be expected. I got homework from almost every class and Snape gave me twice the amount of homework because I was , and I repeat, "answering too many questions". There is no such thing as answering too many questions. He also called Hermione and me little brats. Harry also got extra homework because he stood up for us after that little incident.
After that, though, the last two classes of the day went by pretty smoothly.

The week went by pretty fast and Snape went on hating me, which isn't too bad considering that he hates almost everyone. That Saturday we had our first Quidditch game. Can you guess who it is against? Ding, ding, ding! If you said Slytherin then you are right. Out of all the other Houses, which are only two, it had to be Slytherin. If we win Gryffindor will get a couple weeks of being left alone and not being teased, but if we lose, that is a whole other story. I remember one year when I was staying with the Weasley, Fred and George wrote home saying that a bad call had caused Gryffindor to lose to Slytherin and that Slytherin wouldn't leave them alone. I think that they both got into a fight with the captain of the Slytherin team because he was taunting them about how they couldn't win, even if they tried their hardest.
I put this out of my mind and started to get ready for the game. My gear consisted of scarlet robes, protective goggles for my eyes, boots, and some armguards. I waited for Harry, Fred, and George to get ready until we walked down to the pitch. It took them awhile before we finally started off for the field. "Are you nervous?" I ask Harry.
"Course not," he says but it's not very convincing because he turned a little green in the face.
"You'll be fine," said George.
"He better be," replied Fred, "we are not losing to Slytherin again."
I gave Fred a warning look and nudged Harry reassuringly. His face suddenly changed to an expression that only I can read. Maybe it is twin telepathy or something. His look said, "I need to talk to you but not here, not now." I could tell that it was urgent so I gave him a nod.
We walked the rest of the way in silence, or as close as you can get to silent when you're with Fred and George. They kept joking about what they were going to do to Slytherin's seeker during the game.
We went into the locker rooms and Harry pulled me aside from the rest of our team. He whispered into my ear just slow enough to understand what he had said. "Last week I heard Snape talking to Filch. He was revealing a long gash on his leg and saying that he didn't know how to get past the three-headed dog. We have to find out what that dog is hiding." Then he was gone just as fast as he had came.
Gryffindor's captain, Oliver Wood took the stage ang gave us a short pep talk. The conversation included warnings of what practice would be like if we lost and how proud he will be if we win. Before I knew it we were mounting our broomsticks and flying around the field.
People cheered and hollered for whichever team they wanted to win. I kept a sturdy hold on the handle of my broom as we landed in formation, waiting for the game to begin. "Now I want a fair game," Madam Hooch said. "Now mount your brooms." A loud blow on her whistle indicated that the game had begun. Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle up into the air.
I, along with Chasers from both teams, dashed for the small, red ball. I collided with Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, and we both toppled to the ground. I could hear oh's and ah's from the crowd and there was a searing pain in my lower back but I ignored it as I climbed back up onto my broom.
I flew past the players just in time to see that Angelina had just scored. Slytherin had been given possession of the Quaffle. I hurried to guard Flint, who had the ball, but he was too fast. He sped up and was way ahead of me. Thankfully, Wood blocked his attempt at scoring. Wood threw the Quaffle towards me and this time I was ready. I caught the ball and zoomed past Slytherin after Slytherin. Nobody could stop me. "Not even you, little snakes," I thought. But maybe that can.
Harry was hanging from his stick high above ground while his broom kept trying to throw him off. He could die if he fell. I put the idea aside and thought, "This is a school for magic, surely the Professors can find a way to get him safely on the ground." I turned to see that everyone else was also looking up at Harry. This is my chance.
I flew past everyone and up to Slytherin's posts. Their goalkeeper did not even have any time to stop me. I scored and instead of hearing cheers, like I had thought, I heard gasps. I backed my broomstick up just in time to see my brother throw up.