Gryffindor Versus Slytherin

                                    

                                          
Excitement was thick in the air during breakfast. It was the day of the first Quidditch match of the year. Gryffindor had only had two official training sessions but most of the team had played before and Dennis was a fast learner.
                          
Harry reached for the bowl of scrambled eggs and scooped some out onto his plate with his toast. He decided that it would probably be wise to eat something that morning.
                          
Ginny had told him that Snape had called off the Quidditch cup after only two matches last year without explanation, so the room was alight with anticipation for that day's match.
                          
Practically the whole school headed down to the Quidditch pitch, everyone wearing their jumpers and scarves of all house colours but there was an abundance of red and green to support the teams.
                          
Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors headed down to the locker rooms to change.
                          
"Everybody listen up!" Harry got the team's attention in the small room that connected the male and female locker rooms. "We're going to smash Slytherin out there today if it is the last thing we do. This, of course, will be my and some of your last year of school, so I want everyone here to play their best so we can keep our Gryffindor winning streak!"
                          
The team cheered and Harry realised at that moment that he had become exactly like his predecessor, Oliver Wood. He laughed to himself and jumped off the bench he was standing on.
                          
Madame Hooch came in to tell the team that they were needed on the pitch. They walked out to the cheers of the crowd, Harry in the lead with Ron closely behind him. Some Gryffindors in the stands begin to sing the revised version of 'Weasley is our King" much to Ron's amusement who was bowing and waving as he walked behind Harry.
                          
Harry stepped away from his team to shake hands with the Slytherin captain Elliot Vaisey: a sixth-year boy with dark brown hair and a toothy grin. They smiled at each other as they gripped each other's hands firmly.
                          
"You'll be happy to know that under me, Slytherin will be playing fairly this year, none of those dirty tactics that spoil it for everyone," said Vaisey. Harry couldn't have been happier with the new Captain.
                          
He returned to his mark and mounted his broom, waiting for Madame Hooch's signal.
                          
She released the bludgers and the golden snitch and picked up the quaffle with both hands. She blew the whistle hard and tossed the quaffle in the air.
                          
Harry kicked off the ground hard, determined to get a high vantage point to watch the game from. He sat on his Firebolt as the quaffle began racing across the field.
                          
"And Slytherin is in possession!" Parker Williams, a fifth-year Ravenclaw boy with a mouth so big that even Harry knew who he was, had taken over the commentator job. "Beckett passes to Vaisey who dodges that bludger from Coote brilliantly. He passes and, oh! Out of nowhere, Weasley takes possession for Gryffindor, turning the play around back to the other end of the pitch. She passes to Creevey, a new addition to the team who passes back to her and – 10 POINTS FOR GRYFFINDOR!"
                          
Harry smiled as Jessica Silver narrowly missed the Quaffle as it flew through the hoops she was protecting.
                          
     
                          
The score was 70 – 50 to Gryffindor and Harry still had not seen the snitch. He kept his eye on the Slytherin's seeker whose first name Harry did not know but the name 'PARK' was printed on the back of her Emerald quidditch robes.
                          
He was happy to observe that Park had not seen the snitch either. Sitting above the game as well, cheering for her team whenever they scored a goal.
                          
Harry felt it before he saw it. The tiny wings brushed his cheek as if taunting him when it flew past his face and toward the Slytherin goal posts.
                          
His seeker's reflexes kicked in and he raced after the golden snitch, dodging passed Demelza and Dennis and under one of the Slytherin beaters.