𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒; fred weasley x fem!reader

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN; gryffindor vs slytherin

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PART ONE
Gryffindor VS Slytherin

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" y/n's point of view "

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IT'S BEEN MONTHS since Christmas and Easter had just passed. Today was the last Quidditch game of the year. Slytherin vs Gryffindor. Slytherin was currently winning the cup, leading by 200 points, meaning we needed 210 points to win the cup for Oliver.

In January, Harry and I received Firebolts as a late Christmas gift. Hermione made us turn them in to be checked for jinxes. She suspected Sirius Black had given them to us, and I have a feeling she was right. They were jinx free, meaning for the last few games of the season, Harry and I had FIREBOLTS! THE FASTEST BROOM IN THE WORLD!

The boys —especially Lee— loved the brooms. George even took mine and rode it around the pitch during training one week.

Oliver was determined we would win the cup. 'I know we can do it!' He said to the team before the game, 'I just know!'

"You ready Love?" Fred asked as we waited for Lee to call the teams out for the match.

"Ready as I'll ever be." I replied. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek as we exited the change rooms and onto the pitch.

Almost half the school was cheering, signs reading "GO GRYFFINDOR!" and "LIONS FOR THE CUP!" were being waved around by the exited crowd.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" Yelled Lee, who was the commentator as usual. "Potter, Black, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best Hogwarts has seen in a few good years-"

Lee's commentary was drowned out by a mass amount of 'boos' from the Slytherin end. He then introduced the Slytherin side, making a snarky comment about the team being mainly size over talent.

The captains shook hands and we were off.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no- Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the pitch— WHAM! — nice bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Black, Gryffindor back in possession, come on Y/N — nice swerve round Montague — duck, Y/N, that's a bludger! — SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

I punch the air as I soared round the end of the pitch; the sea of scarlet below was screaming in delight.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my entire back, throwing me and my broom forwards.

"OUCH!"

I was nearly thrown off my broom as Marcus Flint came smashing into me.

"Sorry," said Flint. "sorry, didn't see her!"

Next moment, Fred had chucked his beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" Shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between the two boys. "Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred as he rode his broom towards me, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"You okay Love?" Fred asked me.