Jami Evans and the Sorcerer's Stone - Year 1

Preparation for the First Match

Sirius had sent a reply back much to my surprise.

J.J,

You have no idea on how surprised I was to receive your letter. I nearly burst into tears. How are you doing? I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. As your godfather, it was my duty to James to watch over you. Do you think we can meet up sometimes? We have a lot to catch up on. -S. Black (aka your godfather)

I reread that letter so many times, imagining the look on Sirius's face when he saw my handwriting. Sure, it's been ten years since I saw him but I think writing to him is a good thing, especially because I knew he was innocent. Halloween had come and gone. Harry and Ron had managed to fight off a mountain troll--shame I wasn't there to see it.

As we entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. 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 my 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 me play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, I should be kept, well, secret. But the news that I was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and I didn't know which was worse -- people telling me I'd be brilliant or people telling I they'd be running around underneath me holding a mattress.

It was really lucky that I now had Hermione as a friend. I didn't know how I'd have gotten through all my homework without her, what with all the last-minute Quidditch practice Wood was making me do. She had also lent me Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read.

I learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before my first Quidditch match the four of us were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured us up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. We were standing with our backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. I noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; we were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about our guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell us off anyway. His face twisted into a familiar sneer when he saw me.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was Quidditch Through the Ages. I showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

I growled, "he's become insufferable. I'm telling you--he hates me more than you, Harry."

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly and I snickered.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking Harry and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway. I didn't have time for homework, I usually helped the Weasley twins--Fred and George, prepare for their pranks and often times I accompanied them.

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."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

I felt terrible. In an hour's time I'd be walking onto the field.

"James, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," I said, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

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 me, 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, me and the rest of the team were changing into our 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, "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."

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

I followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping my knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers. I looked up at the stadium bleachers and saw the sign--instantly, I flashed a peace sign to the Gryffindor supporters and they hooted even more. I swore I saw McGonagall shake her head.