The Family Who Lived

The Horrid Match

     The next day, Harry met the rest of the team at breakfast in the Great Hall. Oliver's miserable air was beginning to wear off on the other players as the weather increasingly got worse. Harry looked out the window and watched as the rain poured down, and he realized he could no longer see the grounds outside. How in the world were they supposed to play properly when nature wasn't even on their side? He slouched back towards the table, worry taking over his appetite. He peered over at the Hufflepuff table and spotted Cedric Diggory laughing carelessly with his teammates.

     "Alright mates, this is it," said Oliver. Harry noticed he was also watching Cedric, though with a much different nature than Harry was; Oliver looked like he was about to be sick on anxiety.

     Harry stood up, looking down at his half-eaten plate of food. Glancing around at the rest of his team's plates, he didn't feel out of the ordinary; Fred and George, the life of the team, had barely touched their food, and Oliver's plate didn't have as much as a smudge on it. He grabbed his broom and stretched, looking up the hall at the teacher's table. McGonagall was staring aimlessly at the doors while Professor Sprout was inattentively rambling to her.

     Harry followed his team out to the pitch, their robes soaked within two seconds of stepping outside. Oliver was absentmindedly blurting out weak words of encouragement every now and then. Harry looked behind him and could barely see the yellow of the Hufflepuffs' robes coming down the path, which was mostly mud now. As his boots squelched in and out of the muddy ground, he ran all the tactics that Oliver had advised him to use over in his mind. The wind was picking up the hems of their robes and whipping them all over the place, and Harry's glasses were so covered in rain that he couldn't distinguish the features of the people passing him.

     "Ha–rry!– Harr–" someone was yelling through the roar of the wind. Harry turned around quickly, but before he could pinpoint who it was, his shoes lost traction in the mud and he fell backwards onto the soupy ground.

     "Ooooohh– Did you see a dementor, Potter?" A shrill voice came. Harry looked up and saw a group of Slytherin's passing him, their arms aloft and imitating the dementors. In the lead was Malfoy, of course. He sighed.

     "Harry! Harry, are you alright?" said James. He must've been the one calling his name. James reached down and grabbed Harry's arm, lifting him out of the mud. He looked quickly at Malfoy, giving him a dirty glare that only Harry caught. Harry held his arms out to his sides, looking at the sleeves of his robe disgustingly. "Here–" said James, and he waved his wand, causing hot air to flow out of the end and temporarily dry out Harry's clothes.

     "Thanks," said Harry. He looked out at the Quidditch pitch dismally.

     "Good luck out there today, Harry. I'm sure you'll be fine. From what I've heard, there's no way you'll lose this match," said James, trying to cheer him up. A woman walked up behind him with long strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. She linked her arm in his. James smiled down at her. "This is–"

     "HARRY! C'MON!" Oliver yelled from the bottom of the path. Harry looked miserably at the pair before taking a couple steps back.

     "I'll see you after the game, James!" he yelled before running as fast as he dared on the slippery ground.

❾¾

     The rain persistently got worse, and Harry began to wonder if he'd ever catch the snitch. His head turned at every movement, not wanting to miss the rare chance that he'd actually seen it. His range of vision was so limited that he couldn't tell if he was going to fly into somebody until they were two feet apart. He'd almost flown into Cedric Diggory four times already, who said something along the lines of "Keep safe there, Harry!" each time.

     Two hours had passed. The crowd was growing weary and cold and they slowly stopped cheering. It's not like they could actually see what was happening, anyway.

     Harry was beginning to think that Oliver was right. Cedric really had whipped the Hufflepuffs into shape; every now and then, he'd hear the bell chime to signal a goal, and he was sure that it wasn't on the Gryffindor side.

     Harry could've sworn he'd flown up and down the field at least a thousand times. His eyes were getting tired from constantly looking back and forth. Oliver would often fly by, screaming words of encouragement over the pounding of rain and slashing of thunder. Harry adjusted his grip on his broom and his fingers cracked from the cold. He wiped his glasses off, but his already soaking sleeves didn't prove to be any good at drying. He sighed. His excitement for the beginning of the Quidditch season had worn off, and he was losing motivation by the second. He flew along the side of the Quidditch pitch, looking down at the shivering crowd. He squinted. He could barely make out the face of James. He seemed to be the only one who wasn't completely frozen from head to toe, as he was jumping up and down on his seat. The girl he was with just before the game started was next to him, and she pointed up at Harry as he passed. Harry thought that was odd, as they'd never properly met before. James followed her gaze and smiled, waving wildly at Harry. Harry smiled back, even though it was unlikely they would be able to see his face. There was something about that guy that just put a smile on Harry's face no matter what. It was a feeling Harry had never felt before. There was something so relatable about James, and Harry couldn't get enough of it.

     A split second later, Harry saw a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turned around, searching for contrast against the dark grey sky. About ten feet away he could see the golden sphere reflecting flashes of lightning. He leaned forward on his broom, speeding up to chase after the snitch. Evidently, Cedric had seen it too, as Harry could hear his robes rippling in the wind not far behind him. He leaned as far forward as he could, following the snitch in an almost completely vertical path. He looked down and saw that Cedric really wasn't far behind him at all. A bolt of lightning struck in the sky not far from them, causing Cedric to jolt backwards just a little too far, and his broom to whip around in the opposite direction. Harry turned his attention back to the snitch, which was so close to being right in his reach. He stretched his arm out, squinting against the rain and focusing all of his attention on the little ball. He was just fractions of an inch from it.

     It all happened so quick; The clouds in front of him formed the shape of a giant animal. The sky around him progressively turned darker and darker until Harry noticed something wasn't quite right. He shifted his gaze to the distant dark clouds, his eyes widening in shock. Tall, slim figures in ripped black cloaks swarmed around him, reaching out their gnarled hands through an opening in the front of their robes. Their skin was wrinkly and transparent, and their nails were long and pale. His consciousness seemed to slip out from under him as a faint memory from a night long, long ago replayed in his head. The sad sound of a woman yelling for help and begging for mercy echoed in his mind. Just before his sight went black, the familiar figure of a dark, shaggy dog stood out in the sky against a flash of bright white lightning.

Thank you everyone for being so patient with me, I'm sorry I couldn't update sooner. I'm hoping from now on I can manage my time better and write on the weekends or at least post more than every few months. Once summer is here I will definitely be posting though! As usual, please leave feedback and ideas if you'd like to, and please enjoy!