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𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 of the most important quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. Marina knew that Gryffindor was going to win. Ron, not so much. But her fangirls, Pavarti and Lavender, who were all dressed in red and yellow, were much more positive than Ron.
"I'm so excited! Even an house elf has agreed to make a huge celebration cake for the Gryffindor party!" Pavarti told them.
"Do you need to relate everything to food?" chuckled Lavender.
Pavarti nodded seriously. "Of course I do. I love food more than I love you guys."
"Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!" said Percy heartily from nearby on the breakfast table, as Penelope Clearwater examined the Harry's Firebolt closely. "Penelope and I have got a bet on," he told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!"
Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harry, and went back to her table.
"Marina— make sure you win," said Percy, in an urgent whisper. "I haven't got ten Galleons. Yes, I'm coming, Penny!" And he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.
"Don't worry Perce, I've got this in the bag." winked Marina.
"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.
Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.
"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.
"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute — in case you get too near a Dementor."
"Shame you have to get your father to execute a living thing for you. It's killed meh! The bloody chicken! Wait till my father hears about this!" Marina mimicked.
Making the table laugh. Even Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.
"Shut up," Malfoy mumbled angrily to Crabbe and Goyle.
"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."
The Gryffindor team laughed even louder. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed, and he stalked away.
They watched him rejoin the rest of the Slytherin team, who put their heads together, no doubt asking Malfoy whether Harry's broom really was a Firebolt.
At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, sunny day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and Marina, though confident, was starting to feel the nerves only a Quidditch match could bring. The team could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond.
