The hidden side of the Wizarding World

Chapter 41: Quidditch match, for the drama, and gossip

7 November 1992

The morning of the match, the Slytherin common room buzzed with a mix of anticipation and sharp-edged tension. It wasn't just that today marked the season's first Quidditch match — Slytherin versus Gryffindor, the most explosive rivalry at Hogwarts — it was that this would be Harrison's first official match as Slytherin Seeker.

"Got butterflies?" Theo asked as they made their way up to breakfast. He elbowed Harrison lightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Or a full flock of Hippogriffs flapping about in there?"

"Just a couple, maybe," Harrison said, though his hand was clenched tightly around the edge of his robes. He tried to ignore the low murmurs and side glances from students they passed. Even now, a week after the attack on Mrs. Norris, the whispering hadn't stopped.

Draco, walking on Harrison's other side, leaned in and muttered, "Ignore them. They'll all be too busy losing today to gossip."

At breakfast, the Gryffindor table was a wall of red and gold. Their voices were louder than usual — boisterous, determined — and none too subtle when their eyes flicked toward the Slytherin table. Ron Weasley's scowl was practically carved into his face, and several older Gryffindors seemed to be sharing pointed words, barely concealed behind tankards of pumpkin juice.

Fred and George, however, both gave Harrison a nod and a wink. Apparently they still hadn't changed their minds about not minding Harrison being on the Slytherin team now. It made him feel warm inside, at least not everyone from the Gryffindor team loathed him.

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The change rooms were cool and dim, the air electric with tension. Flint, the Slytherin captain, clapped Harrison hard on the shoulder.

"Today's the day, Potter," he grinned, sharp and excited. "You're faster than any of their lot. Find the Snitch, and we'll handle the rest."

Harrison gave a quiet "Right," and grabbed his broom with slightly sweaty hands.

Draco and Theo hovered nearby the door of the changing room.

"You've got this," Theo said, slinging an arm over Harrison's shoulder briefly before letting go.

"Don't let those Gryffindor brutes shake you," Draco added. "They'll come after you — hard. Especially now."

Harrison gave a short nod. He was already trying to shut out the roar of the crowd overhead.

When they rose into the sky, a storm of sound greeted them — red and gold banners waved from one side of the stands, green and silver from the other. But even within the Slytherin section, Harrison could feel the watchfulness.

Lee Jordan's commentary kicked in with enthusiasm.

"And there they are! Slytherin enters the pitch — oh, and look at that, their new Seeker, second-year Harrison Potter — yes, Potter — interesting switch from Gryffindor last year..."

The tension thickened.

The match began.

From the first whistle, Harrison could tell it was going to be rough. Not dirty — not quite — but personal. Every time he dived or looped, a Gryffindor Chaser veered too close. Bludgers flew a little nearer than they needed to. Ron, in the stands, shouted something Harrison couldn't quite make out, but the glare was obvious enough.

Fred and George played clean, to their credit — Fred even deflected a Bludger that had been arcing dangerously close to Harrison's ribs.

Still, it wasn't until he caught the faint glint of gold near the Ravenclaw stands that the game truly turned.