𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗭𝗞𝗔𝗕𝗔𝗡 [𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍]

Chapter Twenty Six: Hystrifors

‾‾‾‾‾‾‾ ･⋆✵⋆･ ‾‾‾‾‾‾‾

The weather started to get chilly as October ended and the Gryffindor Quidditch team's nightly practice sessions got more challenging, the cold air beating their cheeks raw and making their fingers too stiff to hold on to their brooms.

But McLaggen seemed to be the only one unaffected by the not so favorable conditions and kept working the team relentlessly, even after Patricia Rakepick told him to "shove the quaffle up where the sun doesn't shine" and left in the middle of practice to go find a fireplace and some tea.

When the day of the first Quidditch match of the year arrived, McLaggen tried to appear as stoic as he always did but was kind of a nervous wreck. And understandably so, because Ted Tonks' legacy is a bit too much to live up to.

"They're slipping up, they said." was how McLaggen's pep talk started back at the locker room a few minutes before the match. "Most of their players are two feet tall gnomes, they said."

"Is he taking about us?" asked Marlene.

"Afraid so." said Fabian and looked down at Sirius, James and Marlene while fingering his earring, as if making sure they really weren't two feet tall. He turned his attention back to McLaggen, apparently satisfied with their height.

". . . will go out there and show this warty snakes how real Quidditch is played." McLaggen was saying when Sirius diverted his attention back to the captain. McLaggen banged his fist against a locker door for motivation (or Sirius thought so, anyway) and pointed his thumb in what Sirius assumed was the general direction of McGonagall's office. "We're keeping that cup. Follow me, team."

"Aye, aye captain." said Fabian and Gideon and they followed McLaggen out on the field.

"We better win this one or McLaggen'll commit suicide." sighed Patricia Rakepick as she shouldered her Stardust 2000 and closed the locker room door behind her.

The team was greeted by deafening cheers from the crowd as they stepped onto the pitch.

Sirius swallowed a lump in his throat. The field appeared louder and bigger than ever before. The green of the grounds was unreasonably harsh against his eyes and the whistle of the wind came too high pitched to be natural. Sirius always knew the hoops were fifty feet tall but he never appreciated just how much that was until he was looking up at them from this level, today. This is the smallest he's ever felt in his life.

"I want a clean and fair game." barked Madam Hooch, her fingers twitching against the string of the whistle around her neck like she was trying not to strangle one of the players with it. "Captains shake hands."

McLaggen and Thorfinn Rowle (Slytherin's captain and keeper, who was only about an inch shorter than an adult bear) spent a good five seconds glaring into each other's eyes and trying to crush each other's hands.

Then Madam Hooch blew her whistle and fifteen brooms kicked off of the ground, hard.

And once Sirius was in the air, he felt great. He felt like he'd left all the nerves fifty feet below him.

"Don't let your house down." McLaggen called once to the newcomers before shooting off in the direction of the hoops.

It was a very crazy game. Sirius's guts twisted with excitement every time the quaffle fell into his hands. Time and space meant nothing while playing Quidditch. Only the feel of the air whooshing past and the thrill of knowing the slightest mistake could kill you. But that's what makes you so feel alive.

Sirius didn't want the game to end so soon and take the magic away with it but James screamed, "I got it. I caught the snitch. I caught the snitch. I can't wait to tell my dad."