"I guess." Harry shrugged. He didn't think he was particularly noble. Harry was doing this for his own selfish reasons. It just so happened that those reasons benefited everyone else as a side effect and not just him.
"Alright, enough of this," Oliver said, fed up with all this talk that had nothing to do with the coming game. "This is the first game of the season and we're up against Slytherin. We need to win, we're going to win," he gave them all a stern glare, as if doing so would motivate them to do their best, "This is the best team we've had in years. I know we can win this."
"Don't you worry, Ollie," Fred said cheerfully.
"Yeah, we've got this in the bag," George added.
"How could we possibly lose. We've got new brooms."
"We've got a new kick arse Seeker."
"Our victory is at hand!"
Oliver stared at them, the maniacal gleam in his eyes shining like a beacon. It was almost terrifying.
"Right. Good luck everyone."
They all stood up and made their way onto the pitch. Harry walked behind Fred as the slightly cramped locker opened up into the wide Quidditch Pitch. The stadium was abuzz with noise, the stands packed with students sitting in them, squashed together like a can of sardines. It looked like the entirety of Hogwarts had come to see this game.
Harry's eyes zoomed in on one spot in particular. There, fluttering in the breeze was a large banner that said 'Potter for the Win!' and would flash colors, changing from red and gold to silver and blue to black and yellow then green and silver, every five seconds. Harry smiled when he realized his friends must have charmed that for him. It felt nice to know people were supporting him.
In the middle of the pitch was Madam Hooch wearing the black and white robes of a referee. The Slytherin team was already on the pitch, carrying their brand new Nimbus 2000s. Harry almost laughed when he saw several eyes travel to him, confusion warring on their faces. It was amusing to see their reactions, though he hoped it would further help breech the gap that divided Gryffindor and Slytherin.
Standing right next to Madam Hooch was the Slytherin Captain, an ugly looking sixth year by the name Marcus Flint. He was big and gangly and his body looked disproportion to his head. His facial features were distorted, with his mouth being bigger than everything else and his teeth being exceptionally large. The boy looked like someone had tried to crossbreed a human with a troll.
Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team made their way to the center of the field. With everyone now around her, Madam Hooch gave a nod.
"Now I want a nice, clean game, all of you," Madam Hooch looked at them all with a stern expression, made all the sharper by her Hawk-like eyes. Harry noticed that her gaze lingered on Flint's longer than anyone else. It merely served to confirm what everyone said about the Slytherin team cheating. "Now, mount your brooms."
Harry mounted his broom, smiling as he felt the familiar thrill of adrenaline that came whenever he was in competition.
Madam Hooch brought the whistle to her mouth and gave it a hard blow, the small silver device emitting a fierce noise that belied it's tiny size.
Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor."
Harry had to withhold a smile at Lee Jordan's commentary, as well as Professor McGonagall's outburst. If this was how he was for all of the games, these matches would prove to be very interesting.
Everyone had quickly gone to their positions. Adrian Pucey had the Quaffle and was being guarded on either side by Marcus Flint and Graham Montague. The three Chasers from his team, Alicia, Angelina, and Katie were all trying to find break through their play to get the Quaffle. Several meters away Fred and George were smacking the Bludgers toward the trio of Slytherin Chasers, but their efforts were stymied by Slytherin's own Beaters. High above them all, Terrence Higgs, Slytherin's Seeker, searched for the Snitch.
Harry ignored Terrence and drove towards Adrian, pushing to his top speed within a few seconds.
For a moment, Harry reveled in the feeling of being in the air, the wind as it whipped about his face, the way the broom seemed to respond to his slightest touch, as if it knew exactly what he wanted it to do before he did it. This feeling, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The joy he felt flying on those school brooms paled comparison to what he felt now.
Then the moment was over. Adrian threw the Quaffle towards Marcus, and Harry twitched his broom in this new direction.
Before Flint even had a clue on what was happening, Harry was there, diving right by him. With a sharp twist, the broom under his legs flipped end over end. His left leg extended outwards as his body and broom corkscrewed through the hair. A grin crossed his face as his foot connected with the Quaffle, not only launching it out of Marcus' path, but into Katie's.
"UNBELIEVABLE!" Came the shout from Lee Jordan. "Harry Potter pulls of a miraculous stunt worthy of the professional leagues and breaks up the Slytherin's play! It looks like Wood made a great move when he placed Potter on the team!"
Flint glared at Harry with a look of absolute loathing. He tried to knock the boy off his broom, but by that time Harry was already moving away.
"Katie has the Quaffle. Passes it to Angeline who passes it to Alicia. Marcus is closing in, boy does he look mad. And once again he's blocked by Potter! Alicia's going in for the shot—no! She passes it back to Katie who tosses it in and scores! A fabulous play by Potter and the Flying Foxes!"
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