Beguiled

Quidditch

The day of the Quidditch match was a surprisingly sunny one, considering it was only the 5th of November. It was a Saturday, so Dahlia was surprised to see so many students in the Great Hall getting breakfast. 

"It's always like this on match days." said Pansy, through a mouthful of eggs on toast. "I told you it's a big deal!", she added, rather unnecessarily, thought Dahlia. 

"On another note, I'm quite excited to see Draco play!" she gushed. 

"He's gotten so much better over the years you know. Honestly everyone always gushes over that Potter, but see Draco, he's - "

"Pansy I get it." said Dahlia. Over the last week she had become positively exasperated with Pansy's ability to speak absolute nonsense endlessly. 

"Speak of the devil." she added, raising her eyebrows in direction of the door to the Great Hall. Draco was sauntering in, accompanied by his teammates. He was earing his Quidditch uniform, which Dahlia hated to say suited his muscular body well. She hadn't been able to tell how fit he was through his robes before.

Pansy stood and rushed to catch up to him. She tapped his arm and started babbling as soon as he faced her. Dahlia couldn't hear what she was saying but she had an idea that it was something about how "great he is at Quidditch" and how he'll "definitely catch the snitch and beat that slimy Potter". He smirked, clearly flattered by whatever words of appraisal she was shamelessly swinging his way. She came back looking flushed as he and his teammates took a seat at the end of the table, and being unnecessarily rowdy. 

The match started at 11:00, but the stands were already filled by 10:30, students of all years and all four Houses gathered, ready to cheer on the players. Everyone was making noise, roaring the House they were supporting. The Gryffindors and Slytherins cheered loudest, of course. 

The stands were organised by House. Dahlia, Pansy and the other Slytherins were in a tall, green stand, surrounded by green flags sporting the Slytherin emblem and students wrapped in green scarves, faces half hidden by green knitted hats. Dahlia looked out at the pitch ahead. It looked so much bigger than it had through the window in the library. 

"So who's on our team again?" she shouted into Pansy's ear in an effort to be heard over the commotion. 

"Draco, he's Seeker, James is Keeper, Millicent and Ansel are Beaters, Edwin, Alec and Luke are Chasers." Pansy shouted back. 

Dahlia was excited to see her first Quidditch match, as she'd only heard her mother speak of it when recounting stories of her father, but she herself had never seen a flying broomstick, let alone people mounting them and playing a game of Quidditch. 

She was also looking forward to seeing Harry. As guilty as she felt about that fact, it was true. She wouldn't be bothered by who won - on one hand, her House could win, on the other , Harry would. She thought better than to let it slip to Pansy however, who's probably pitch her off the stands whilst simultaneously preaching about House pride. She wouldn't take any chances, she thought, as she leaned over the railing of the stands, noting that they were several hundred metres above the ground. 

Quidditch pitches were typically in the shape of an oval, five-hundred feet long and one-hundred and eighty feet wide, with a small central circle of approximately two feet in diameter, from which all the balls were released at the start of the game. At each end there were three hooped goal posts of different heights, surrounded by a scoring area. 

"It's starting, look!" shrieked Pansy, grabbing Dahlia's arm with one hand and shaking it. With her other hand, she pointed towards the ground, to the side of the large pitch, where a curtain flapped airily. Within seconds, Dahlia noticed people beginning to emerge from the other side of the curtain, brooms in hand. On the other side of the pitch, the members of the other team were trickling out one by one in similar fashion. Dahlia gazed at the brooms. They were sleek, so lavish they seemed like something one would put on display in their home. Dahlia longed to hold one herself, to mount it, to try her hand at Quidditch. She needed to.