HIS CHOSEN GIRL [MAJOR EDITING/REWRITING]

first year ➤quidditich

HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter eleven-quidditch
[Harry's P.O.V]
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The more I poke around at my food, the less appealing it seems. Today is my first Quidditch match. It's been the only thing on my mind from the moment I woke up and I'm so nervous that I don't even know if I'll be able to keep this breakfast down.

"C'mon mate take a bit of toast," Ron offers, motioning to an untouched piece on my full plate.

"Ron's right Harry," Hermione agrees. "You're gonna need your strength today."

"I'm not hungry," I announce for probably the sixth time today.

"Suit yourself," (y/n) shrugs as she loads some of my plate onto hers. Ron eyes me to see my reaction before following her lead and taking the rest.

I chuckle, thankful for my friends who can effortlessly brighten my mood with their antics. "Pigs."

"Good luck today, Potter."

I hear the voice before I see the person. Not that I really need to see the person to know who it is. Professor Snape has got a voice unlike any other that's for sure.

"Then again now that you've proven yourself against a troll, a game of Quidditch should be easy for you," I do my best to smile politely, not knowing what else to do in this situation. The professor smirks. "Even if it is against Slytherin."

He eyes us each, one by one, before turning to leave, limping out of the great hall. (y/n) nudges me with her elbow while taking a bite out of my toast and gestures to Snape.

"That explains the blood," she mumbles, mouth full.

"Blood?" Hermione questions unknowingly.

(y/n) nods. "Yesterday, in the girl's lavatory after we fought the troll, Harry noticed that Snape's leg was completely covered in blood. He got a pretty nasty scratch."

Hermione nods slowly. "But what would he have done that would get his leg all bloodied up?"

I look around to make sure no one was listening before gesturing for my three friends to come closer. "Listen, I bet Snape let in that troll as a diversion, so he could get past that three headed dog, but I'm guessing he got bitten and that's why he's limping," I propose.

"Wow," (y/n) nods in approval. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"It's hard to sleep when all you can think about is your whole house counting on you to win your first ever match against Slytherin," I rant.

"But why would anyone go near that dog?" Hermione ponders.

The singular flaw to my theory, the question I'd also been asking myself.

"I don't know."

"Wait a minute," (y/n) muses. "Harry, remember that day we first met?"

"Yeah," of course "What's that have to do with anything?"