𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥; 𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔶 𝔭𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯

viii. quidditch.

NOVEMBER rolled around, bringing a chill to the air and frost on the grounds.

 The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake was like chilled steel, as smooth as butter. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. The sky had turned gloomy, only small rays of sunshine periodically peeking through.

Hagrid ( the gamekeeper) 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 commenced. Harry would play in his first match after weeks of training on Saturday: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor emerged victorious, they would move up to second place in the house championship.

Even though Harry being Gryfindor's seeker was to be kept a secret, somehow, it seemed to have spread like wildfire amongst the students, all getting new gossip to talk about.

Nearly Headless Nick ( the Gryfindor ghost ) was waiting with eager anticipation. Although according to him, Quidditch had been invented way after his time, he held a great fondness for the sport ( although it was more or less for the fact that winning a match would also ensure more house points ). 

Lavender had formed a nice friendship with Nearly Headless Nick or as she would affectionately call him 'Nickkie' as he was quite a fun person - ghost - to talk to. Often he counted his adventures when he was alive and shared stories of his favourite students that could sometimes range from just ten years ago to even a century ago.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry, Emmlina and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. Her bossy tone and wordings had softened, a much more friendly tone lacing her words.

 The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during the break, and Hermione had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar.

 They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Immediately his eyes seemed to zero in on them. Harry, Ron, Emmalina and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed and even if it was allowed, Snape would tell them off anyway.

 Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over towards them, wincing ever so slightly like something pained him. Whatever it was, a strong urge overcame Emmalina to see Snape in even more pain, a bitter feeling overcoming her.

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

Harry showed him a slightly tattered and worn book titled Quidditch Through the Ages, which he got from the library. Harry had been reading up all about Quidditch in preparation for the next match, his interest growing in the sport.

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

Emmalina's brows creased, a divot appearing on her forehead. There existed no such ludicrous rule. The librarian - Madam Pince - often encouraged reading material for the students and urged them to borrow books from the library. Her lips curled in distaste, eyeing the Professor with a frown.

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

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

"I hope its hurting like a train ran over his leg," Emmalina added more, folding her arms over her chest in annoyance. She couldn't understand why Snape was deadset on mistreating students who weren't Slytherins or why he seemed to carry such immense hatred for herself, Harry and Neville.