Patrick Stump and the Flying Car Brigade

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After a long day of walking to find the Portkey, I finally found it. It was a pile of Polaroids in the crates of a record shop just outside of Montrose. Joe was already there when I arrived, and he was more than ready to go. "Come on, Patrick!" Joe exclaimed. "I heard that Andy and Pete are already there!"

"Okay," I said as I grabbed onto one of the old photographs. Joe did the same, and the two of us stood there for a few seconds, waiting.

Suddenly, we jerked forward, and the Polaroid started spinning through the air. I held on as tightly as I could as my feet left the ground and I saw Joe and the Portkey disappear into a whirl of color.

My feet slammed into the ground, and I looked around. There was already a long queue to get into the stadium, but thankfully, Joe had our tickets. We just had to find Pete and Andy. My stomach churned as we searched for them, partially from the Portkey and partially from the idea that this might be the last summer that I would spend with Andy, Joe, and Pete.

Finally, we found them. Pete and Andy were talking about the game under the cork tree. "I'm so excited for the match," Andy said. "I hope Puddlemere wins the League Cup again this year."

"Me too," Pete said. He then turned around. "Hey Patrick! Hey Joe! What's up?"

I noticed something different about Pete. He had changed his hair colour to blond, and he had styled it differently too. In fact, it looked exactly like my hair. "You stole my hairstyle," I said.

"Do you like it?" Pete asked, smiling.

"No, I think it looked a little bit better on me." I laughed and said, "I'm just kidding. You look great as usual, Pete."

"Thanks, Trick," Pete said.

"If you want, I can do a Colour-Change Charm on your hair so you're not matching Pete exactly," Joe said to me.

"Yes, let's do that," I said.

Joe took out his wand and pointed it at my head. "What color do you want your hair to be?" he asked me.

"Light brown," I answered.

"Colovaria," Joe said, and my hair changed back to its natural colour.

"Thanks Joe," I said.

"You're welcome," he replied. "So what's this about Puddlemere winning? That's totally not going to happen."

"Are you kidding?" Andy replied. "Puddlemere has a way stronger team this year. At the very least, we have a better Seeker, and that's all you need."

"No, Montrose's Seeker is better," Joe argued. The two of them started bickering, so I reminded them that we needed to get in the queue if we wanted to get into the stadium before the match began. Joe took out the tickets again, and the four of us waited in the queue.

It took a while, but we eventually got to our seats. Once we got there, Pete asked us what we wanted to eat. "I'll have a pumpkin pasty and a Butterbeer," I told him, handing him a couple of Sickles.

"Do they have sandwiches?" Joe asked.

"I think so," Pete said.

"Get one for me then, and I'll also have a Butterbeer," Joe said.

"I'll take anything that's vegan," Andy said.

"Great, and I'll get a pizza for myself," Pete said as he ran off to purchase our food. He returned a few minutes later with our food. I took my pumpkin pasty and started eating while all of us waited for the game to begin.

All of a sudden, we heard a voice booming throughout the stadium. "This one's for all you rock n' rollers - all you crash queens and motor babies. Listen up! Welcome to the British and Irish Quidditch League Cup!"

Everyone cheered, while Andy leaned over and whispered, "Is that Dr. Death Defying?"

"I think so," I said.

"Let's welcome the Montrose Magpies!" Dr. Death shouted, and seven players in black and white robes flew onto the pitch. Joe cheered, while Pete and Andy groaned. I usually cheered for the Kenmare Kestrels (I did grow up in Ireland, after all), but they sadly hadn't made it to the League finals. "Now, please welcome Puddlemere United!" Seven more players flew onto the pitch, and they were wearing navy blue robes with two crossed golden bulrushes. This time, Andy and Pete cheered, while Joe simply rolled his eyes. The referee then went onto the pitch and opened up a large crate. She blew the whistle, and the Quaffle, the Bludgers, and the Snitch all flew out.

The entire crowd erupted into cheers and hysteria as the Chasers pursued the Quaffle. I had been to many Quidditch matches at Hogwarts, but none had been quite as fast paced or exciting as this game. After several minutes of tossing the Quaffle back and forth, the Magpies finally scored. The scoreboard changed to say "Montrose: 10, Puddlemere: 0."

Puddlemere quickly followed that up by hitting the Montrose Keeper with a Bludger and then scoring. Joe started yelling something about that being a foul, but there were seven hundred Quidditch fouls. Did anyone really bother to memorise all of them?

The goal turned out not to be a foul, and the match continued. The score was tied with both teams at seventy points when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw a girl who was a few years younger than me, presumably a fellow Hogwarts student. "I was right!" she shouted. "Fall Out Boy is here!"

I smiled and said, "Yes, all of us are here." Most of the time, it still amazed me that we had fans, but we were semi-famous among Hogwarts students.

"Can I take a picture?" the girl asked as she took out her camera.

"Sure," I said. I told Pete, Andy, and Joe to turn around so the girl could take the picture.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed as she ran off, still fangirling a little. We went back to watching the game. Montrose scored a few more times, but we were all watching the Seekers. It appeared that the Puddlemere Seeker had spotted the Snitch. He was hurtling towards the ground, with the Montrose Seeker not too far behind.

"Please don't tell me that Ferguson is going to fall for that Wronski Feint," Joe grumbled, but the Puddlemere Seeker flew upwards at the last minute, while the Montrose Seeker crashed to the ground. The game kept going, but our eyes were glued to the Puddlemere Seeker, who seemed so close to catching the Snitch. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the Seeker had caught the Snitch. The game was over, and Puddlemere United had won the League Cup.

"If it wasn't for the Wronski Feint, Montrose would have won!" Joe exclaimed. "Well, northern downpour sends its love."

Pete and Andy, meanwhile, were celebrating, complete with Pete attempting to sing the Puddlemere team anthem. "Maybe you should leave the singing to Patrick," Andy commented.

"You're right," Pete said. "Besides, I don't like the team anthem's title. Beat Back Those Bludgers, Boys, and Chuck That Quaffle Here?! That's definitely too short."

All of us laughed as we exited the stadium. It felt amazing to be with my friends again, if only for a little while.