As the Quidditch match approached, the pressure on Harry to win the upcoming game put him in a miserable mood, so that not even Hermione and Ron wanted to be around him.
At the last practise he had yelled at Peakes and Coote so much that they left in a surlier temper than there captain.
Ginny had refused to speak to him all night, and Dean and Seamus glared at him and whispered behind his back mutinously whenever Harry passed.
Indeed, he was rapidly loosing his fans in the Gryffindor house. Everywhere he went he was jeered at.
“What’s the matter, Potter? You can defeat the Dark Lord but you can’t get a team together? What? Do you think Quidditch is beneath you or something?”
Ginny, Ron, and Hermione offered him no sympathy.
“It’s just a Quidditch match, mate,” said Ron. Only the day before, Harry had told Ron off after missing a Quaffle.
“You wouldn’t understand, Ron. You’re not the Chosen One. They don’t expect anything from you. But if I loose this Quidditch match, I’m going to be the enemy, not the hero.”
“You’ve dealt with worse, Harry,” said
Hermione. “Remember Umbridge? She did horrible things to you. And after all you’ve been through, getting through a match shouldn’t be a problem.”
Harry groaned. He had been getting this same lecture every time that he complained to one of them. “Yes, but when Umbridge was here, I didn’t have to worry about Quidditch. I wasn’t allowed to play. Remember?”
Ginny sighed. “It’s hopeless, you two. I’ve tried to make him see that he’s wrong, and it just doesn’t work like that. You know how Harry is, if something doesn’t go his way, it’s his fault.”
“I can hear you,” said Harry, glaring.
Ron ignored him and said, “Well, when we win the match he’ll see that there was nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah, when we win. Which a seriously doubt. I’m going to bed,” muttered Harry, heading up to his dormitory looking thoroughly dejected.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sighed before turning to their unfinished Charms essays.
*~*
“And Harry Potter is back, returning from his year’s absence. Everyone is quite excited to see the team he’s put together this year, which consists almost entirely of his classmates, with the exception of Peakes and Coote. AND THERE OFF!”
As Madame Hooch tossed the quaffle up, Harry saw Ginny dart forwards, grab the quaffle, and raced off. He would have grinned, if he hadn’t been feeling so nervous about the match.
“And Ginny Weasley has the quaffle. She’s developed into quite a player. And look at that form! I’m not just talking about Quidditch here, people!
Harry turned to glare at Zacharias Smith, who was announcing the match. If he wasn’t on this broom right now he’d… but luckily McGonagall got there first.
“Quite uncalled for, Smith! You’re to be commentating on the match. Period.”
Harry turned and focused his attention back on the game, just as Ginny scored the first goal of the game, putting Gryffindor up ten nothing.
The sea of red and gold in the stand cheered and clapped, waving around banners, and chanting, “Weasley is our queen!
Harry smiled, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Ron leading in the chant from the Gryffindor goal posts.
As he circled above, Ginny made two more goals before Hufflepuff finally scored, giving the yellow and black fans something to cheer about.
“Weasley passes to Finnigan. Finnigan back to Weasley. Weasley to Thomas. Thomas to Finnigan. Finnigan…SCORE!”
Seamus whooped up and down, and almost fell off his broom before giving a victory lap to the cheering Gryffindors.
“SEAMUS! GET YOUR BUTT DOWN THE PITCH AND PLAY THE GAME!” Yelled Harry, though he couldn’t help but to
laugh.
Half an hour later the score was Gryffindor: 150. Hufflepuff: 130. The tension mounting, Harry searched desperately around for a glimpse of gold.
Then he saw it. It was fluttering right beside the Hufflepuff seeker”the idiot.
Harry darted towards him, and as he did so, the seeker turned and saw the snitch.
“AND POTTER’S SEEN THE SNITCH! NOW HE AND TAYLOR ARE CHASING IT!” Screamed Smith from the stands. “GO HUFFLEPUFF!”
“Smith! This is not meant to be a one-sided commentary,” said Professor McGonagall, but nobody was paying attention to what Smith said anyways.
As Harry turned around a post, gaining on Taylor, the crowed gasped. THUD!
Everything was spinning. He felt as if he had collided with the brick walls of Hogwarts. Disoriented, and his head throbbing, Harry lowered himself to the ground, stumbling off his broom.
He looked up, and there was Taylor, grinning widely, with the snitch fluttering helplessly in his hands.
Harry looked down, dismayed. If only Taylor hadn’t turned. If only he had accelerated sooner. And bloody hell…what in Merlin’s pants had just hit him.
The Hufflepuffs were cheering so loudly that Harry felt like his ears were hurting more than his head. The Gryffindor team was making their way to the ground, looking dejected. But…wait…
Madam Hooch was blowing her whistle and flying to the ground, demanding to speak with the captains. As Harry stumbled towards her, he couldn’t understand what was going on. Hufflepuff had won…hadn’t they?
After talking with the captains, Madam Hooch took over the microphone from an ecstatic Smith.
“Harry, what’s going on?” asked Ginny, as Harry came over, grinning ear to ear.
“Just listen,” was all he said. He was still having trouble walking straight.
“Hufflepuff has forfeited this match, after their Beater made a deliberate attempt to injure the Gryffindor captain!” began Madam Hooch, to the many cheers of the Gryffindors, and boos from the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins.
“While this usually results in a penalty shot; because the Seeker was in the act of catching the snitch, the opposing team must forfeit the game at the discretion of the official. Unsportsmanlike conduct, coupled with the unofficial broom that I have just received notice one of the Hufflepuff players is riding, gives this match to GRYFFINDOR!”
~*~
Late that night, after the celebration party had finally ended, (Percy had stormed into the Common Room, and threatened that the entire house would be put into detention if they didn’t calm down,) Harry made his way up to the dormitory.
When he arrived he noticed a large parcel sitting on his bed.
Knowing who it was from, he shut the curtains, and excitedly tore off the wrapping to reveal his Pensieve. He pulled out the box of memories, which he had carefully packed in his trunk and pulled out one of the vials from the end of the box. It read:
September 2nd,1971
~*~
Harry Potter: The Following Year by ginnygirl16
Chapter Notes: Sorry for the delay! Hopefully you will like it. Thanks again to MJ_Padfoot and Afifa for beta-ing. --ginnygirl16
Chapter Endnotes: Please leave a review! --ginnygirl16