Off the Pitch

Chapter 21: The Quidditch Cup

"Okay, team", Oliver started his pep talk: "We're up against Slytherin today– it's going to be a dirty game, I know it. Harry, remember: you may only catch the Snitch when we're in the lead by 60 points or more." 

"Now, even though Slytherin is most likely going to play dirty, McGonagall told me she wants us to play a clean game. In other words", he added briskly, "do whatever it takes for us to win." 

Fred and George cheered. Oliver gestured us to gather in front of the door. I stood next to him and he squeezed my hand gently; I flashed him an excited smile as we walked out to the pitch. I noticed the majority of the audience cheering for us – I guess they wanted to see Slytherin lose just as much as we did. 

We got up on our brooms and the game begun. Five minutes in, Angelina managed to score. A few seconds later a loud gasp escaped from the audience: Montague, one of Slytherin's Chasers, had nearly knocked Alicia off her broom. I heard Wood shouting something at Madam Hooch, and she blew the whistle. We got a penalty shot and I received a mean glare from Montague after scoring. 

The game turned real dirty in no time: the Slytherin team tried their best to knock us off our brooms and distract us. We got another penalty shot and Angelina scored again – we were already in the lead by thirty points. 

Then I saw something that made me flinch: Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin team, grabbed the Quaffle and, instead of throwing it through the hoop, flew straight towards Oliver. He had no chance to react in such short time – the force made him fall off his broom and thump onto the ground. 

I screamed and flew down to him as Madam Hooch blew the whistle yet again. 

"Oliver!" I shook his shoulders: "Are you okay?" 

He slowly sat up and rubbed his neck, pushing my hands away. 

"I'm fine", he said and clung himself up, grabbing his broom from the ground. 

Madam Hooch ran up to us, looking terrified. 

"Mr. Wood, are you hurt?" 

"No!" Oliver said quickly: "Let's continue the match." 

Madam Hooch hesitated, but Oliver jumped on his broom and returned to the air. I shook my head and followed his lead. I managed to score both the penalty shots and we were now in the lead by fifty points – well, soon sixty, as Alicia stole the Quaffle again and scored. 

But before Harry had time to catch the Snitch, Slytherin stroke yet again: Flint grabbed the bat from one of his Beaters and sent a Bludger straight towards Harry. Luckily he managed to dodge it, but from the look on his face I figured he had seen the Snitch right before the interruption. 

Fred and George weren't happy with Flint's interference: they approached him from each side and bumped into him, nearly causing them all to fall down. Flint tried to punch Fred off his broom and George managed to nudge him slightly so that he lost his balance and was now hanging onto his broom with one hand. Madam Hooch shouted at the boys and ordered a penalty shot for Slytherin – Montague scored. 

"One more goal!" Oliver shouted at me. 

Montague flew by me with the Quaffle in his hand. I turned my broom around and went after him, shoving him with the side of my body. He dropped the Quaffle and I quickly dived down to catch it. I glanced at Madam Hooch – luckily she hadn't noticed my illegal move. I straightened my broom and soared to the other side of the field. 

Miles Bletchley, Slytherin's Keeper, narrowed his eyes as I approached him. With a quick hoax, the ball was through the hoop. The crowd cheered and I glanced at Harry just in time to see him barge towards Draco Malfoy. He dived down, straightened his broom meters away from the ground and lifted his hand up. The crowd went crazy – he had caught the Snitch.