Rowan Haywood

Book 1: Chapter 13 - The Match Against Slytherin

As we entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, I would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, we would move up into second place in the house championship.
　　
Hardly anyone had seen Harry and I play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry and I should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker and I was playing Chaser had leaked out somehow.

Thank Poseidon that I Hermlone was my friend. I didn't know how I'd have gotten through all of my homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making us do.

After they were back from walking the next morning, they complained about how Snape deducted 5 points from Gryffindor because Harry took a library book with him outside of school. Seriously, why? I really need to talk to Snape again once the match against Slytherins end.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window while I was enjoying myself, chilling and playing with Lasair(by the way, everyone adored Lasair, even Snape, although Filch and Mrs.Norris hated him.

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.
　　
"You've got to eat some breakfast."
"Don't want anything."
"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.
"Not hungry."
"Jeez, your acting like Harry." Hermione huffed.
　　
"Rowan, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team." he told Harry.

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages while I refused.
　　
By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.
　　
Meanwhile, in the locker room, the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).
Wood cleared his throat for silence.
　　
"Okay, men," he said.
"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.
"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."
"The big one," said Fred Weasley.
"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.
"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told me and Harry, "we were on the team last year."
"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."
　　
"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

I followed Fred and George out of the locker room and walked onto the field to loud cheers.
Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. I noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a sixth year. I thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.
　　
"Mount your brooms, please."
　　
I clambered onto my Nimbus Two Thousand.
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.
Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too --"
　　
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor."
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.