𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗰𝗸, harry potter

˗ˋ 91

CHAPTER NINETY ONE
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-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH THE
SNITCH IS CAUGHT

. . .

"What are they doing?" Harry had appeared next to Aviana in no time at all, despite the fact that she was obviously trying to concentrate on on getting the Quaffle from Katie Bell as she soared over the pitch, Lee Jordan's commentary growing louder and louder in an attempt to drown out the constant chanting.

"I think, and I just think, you don't have to take my word for it, but they're singing." Aviana replied, not even looking at him as she dived down below Crabbe and dodged the Bludger he was chasing. "I'm not sure though, any thoughts."

"Why are they singing?"

"I didn't ask them to, if that's what you're implying." Aviana drawled. She was quickly gaining on Katie, who had come into a bit of trouble with a Bludger. "They're showing house pride, I can't control what they do."

"I know you can't, it's just-"

"Harry, what are you doing?" Angelina yelled, and Harry jumped out of his skin. "Go and find the bloody Snitch and stop flirting with your girlfriend. We're in the middle of a Quidditch match, for fuck's sake."

"Glad to shake you off, finally." Aviana said. "Hey - Johnson, fancy a race?" She offered, not sparing another word to Harry as she flew off. Angelina followed her hastily as she caught up with the other chaser. "Tell Potter that next time I'm against him that he should keep doing his job." She called back to her.

"Rosier - what are you doing?" Pucey appeared as though from nowhere.

"Little friendly fire, Adrien, you used to appreciate my wit." Aviana rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what was about to happen as she saw Goyle, a short distance away, raise his bat. "There we go. Thanks Katie!" She said, pushing herself upwards to catch to Quaffle, instantly pulling her broom up to soar above the others and watching as Angelina and Katie collided below her, diverting her attention back

"Looks like it's back to Rosier again, who passes to Pucey to avoid the Bludger Weasley - that's George, I swear - sent her way. Pucey's bypassed the collision, passed to Montague, whose passed back to Pucey and- nice Bludger from Fred Weasley, I mean, George Weasley, oh who cares, one of them anyway and Pucey dropped the Quaffle and Katie Bell - er - drops it too and here comes Rosier, again from beneath with the Quaffle." Lee shouted, his voice booming across the pitch. "Montague and Pucey are on her tail, making sure she gets up to the hoops again... seems to be a tactic of their's this go-around. Rosier bears the brunt of the game."

"Dickhead." Pucey said, just loud enough to let Aviana know he was right behind her. "Middle hoop Aviana."

"I know what I'm doing." Aviana replied. "Montague-" and she passed the Quaffle who passed it back to Pucey, and back it went to Graham and so-on, until they were nearing the hoops.

"Looks like there's the usual diversion tactics..." Lee said. "All three of Slytherin's chasers are playing a game of catch here, people, and they're coming close to the end of the pitch - come on now, Gryffindor, block him! They've dodged Alicia again, they're heading straight for a goal, stop it, Ron!"

And at the very last moment, as Ron's bewildered, hastened glances passed between all three of them, Pucey threw the ball and Aviana sent it soaring through the middle hoop as the Gryffindor Keeper reacted a moment too late and threw himself into the vicinity of the goal only to miss, and Aviana dived down to collect it before it hit the ground.

A groan rose from the Gryffindor end, joined with screams and cheers from Slytherin, a momentary pause because their chanting came again. Thirty-nil. Thirty-nil. All Draco had to do was make sure Harry didn't get the Snitch and they just had to keep scoring goals. They came easily enough, Ron being too unnerved to properly react in time to stop them, and the chanting behind him grew steadily louder.

That was the thing - they could keep scoring goals, ten apiece for as long as they wanted, until they racked up enough points for the catching of the Snitch to be absolutely meaningless. Draco was a good seeker, that was obvious, but it would be fatal to state that he was any better than Harry. Besides, knowing him, Aviana believed he would be more interested in underhand tactics to prolong the game further than actually catching the Snitch. If he did, it would be something new from the team.

And whilst Draco went about his business, lounging above the pitch without the tension and harshness of needing to endure Bludger hits - one had grazed Aviana's arm and she knew there was already a bruise forming - the rest of his team spent their time endlessly working, trailing up and down the pitch at speed.

Once more, she was following behind Katie Bell, hoping that there would be another Bludger hit in the works should Crabbe and Goyle be able to do the only job given to them in years that actually meant anything, urging her broom forward as she watched Katie pass to Angelina and Montague fail in intercepting and soon enough, she was watching Angelina score Gryffindor's first goal of the game, and her attention turned to diving down to the sand beneath the three hoops to pick up the Quaffle.

"And here's Rosier again, dangerously close to the ground there as she gets the Quaffle, bypassing one of the Weasley twin's Bludgers... passed to Pucey, Pucey throws to Montague, Montague to Rosier, back to Pucey - Johnson intervenes, takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good - I mean bad - Bell's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and Rosier's in possession again, heading straight for the goals once more - will Gryffindor be able to stop her this time? I think so - come on Gryffindor!"

Aviana swerved past Spinnet again, the Quaffle held close to her chest as she ducked below, barrel-rolling past an attempt at a chance for interception from a Bludger - "Do your fucking job, Crabbe, all you have to do is control the fucking Bludgers." - she yelled behind her, rising once more.

"Looks like there's more of that Rosier charm, you heard her Crabbe. Rosier's heading towards the goal - oh, what's this, looks like the Seekers have spotted the Snitch down by the Slytherin posts - Malfoy is in the lead but Potter is quickly catching up, could this match be over people?" Lee shouted, voice overpoweing amongst the loud chants of Slytherin approached.

"Shit." Aviana muttered under her breath as she made it to the goal, forcing her attention not on the speck of gold she saw in the corner of her eye but scoring once again, throwing the Quaffle defiantly through the left hoop this time.

"And that's sixty-ten to Slytherin - nevermind, Potter's gaining on Malfoy, a foot from the ground, they're both reaching out - this is it people - and Potter gets the snitch! Gryffindor wins, one-hundred-and-sixty points to Slytherin's sixty!"

A deafening boom came from the other side of the stadium as the victory was announced, and Aviana drew her broom up into a halt, drifting slowly down to where Harry and Draco had been struggling. "You were right there Malfoy - fucking dickhead... oh Merlin-" And her disapproval of Draco's utter lack of ability to catch the Snitch thus far was replaced as she watched a carefully directed Bludger hit Harry in the small of his back and he flew forward off of his broom, landed flat on his back on the frost-covered pitch. She sunk lower to float alongside Draco, who was grinning despite their loss as he watched Madam Hooch and the Gryffindor players hurried over to him.

Hooch's shrill whistle sounded as an uproar in the stands, angry yells and jeering, interrupted it.

Aviana reached over and shoved Draco's shoulder, so hard he was almost thrown off himself, and she pushed onwards to join her fellow Chasers, whose faces had set in hard glares.

As always, no matter how well the Chasers had been doing, their downfall came from the loss of the snitch.

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