February came, bringing sleet and cold, the kind of weather where you'd like to stay curled up in front of a fireplace all day. Instead, James and I trudged out into it for Quidditch practice.
There was a game against Ravenclaw in less than a week, and I was more than a little worried. The Ravenclaw team was amazing this year. Luna's brothers apparently rivaled the infamous Weasley twins as Beaters, and Clarissa Rogers had caught the Snitch in every game she's been in (which wasn't too many, since she had only joined the team this year, but still). Their Keeper and Chasers were also amazing. I think even Ryan was worried.
The day of the match dawned wet, cold, and gray, which didn't help our mood in the slightest. Ryan have an overly enthusiastic pep talk beforehand.
"All right, listen up!" he called, even though no one was really talking. "We have match against Ravenclaw today."
I was tempted to say No duh, but decided that might be a bit rude.
"Sure, Ravenclaw has won the Quidditch Cup for the past six years, but I believe we can change that! This is our year!"
Jaycee muttered something about how that's exactly what he said last year.
"Ravenclaw doesn't stand a chance! We have the best Chasers we've ever had this year, and our Keeper is the son of the great Oliver Wood! Our Beaters are the kids of Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Angelina Johnson, and George Weasley! All greats who took this team to victory! And finally, we have a Seeker to rival Harry Potter himself, with one of the fastest brooms available! We can do this!"
I hadn't expected Ryan's pep talk to work, but it did. Instead of the gloomy looks we'd walked in with, the team left looking confident and hopeful. We could do this! My hope had been inflated to a point that I didn't see how we couldn't succeed.
Clarissa and I soared high above the game once the whistle had been blown. We circled the pitch, straining our eyes through the rain, searching for a flash of gold.
Patrick Shaw was commentating once again. I'd heard people call him the new Lee Jordan.
"Bell takes the Quaffle immediately!" he bellowed into the microphone. I briefly glanced over to see Jaycee Bell streaking through the air on her broom, carrying the Quaffle.
"She swerves past a Bludger, sent her way by Lorcan...or Lysandor, no one can ever tell, you'd think that their parents would have named them something easier, at least."
One of the professors yelled, "Shaw! Back to Quidditch!"
"Right, sorry professor! Bell ducks past Tara Steele-She throws it-Ryleigh Hammock tries to stop it-and suc-NO! BELL HAS SCORED! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!"
The stands erupted into cheers. Gryffindor and most of Hufflepuff was cheering, of course. Our Houses had been close ever since we joined tables. The strange thing was, I think I also saw some Slytherins cheering. I suppose that everyone wanted Ravenclaw to give up the Quidditch Cup.
"Grant McBride from Ravenclaw takes the Quaffle-he passes it to Steele-Steele dodges a Bludgers, sent by Fred Weasley-passes the Quaffle to Ferguson-oh no-BLOCK IT, WOOD-no, no! Ravenclaw scores..."
Eventually, I tuned Patrick out. Every so often, I glanced at the scoreboard.
Ravenclaw 50, Gryffindor 30.
YOU ARE READING
Star of Gryffindor - Book 1
FanfictionAstra Lewis is not normal. In fact, some would go as far as to say she's a freak. Strange things happen around her, things that no one can explain. But maybe she's not a freak. Maybe she's just different. When a woman with flaming red hair arrives...
