Delicate - eng version

Victory and Defeat

Tension. Fear. Hunger. Dread. Anxiety.

These are all the emotions I can see on my little brother's face, and I'm sure he's feeling a lot more on the inside. I have never seen him look more nervous in my whole life. He looks smaller than usual in his oversized Quidditch gear and I don't think James is helping to calm Hugo's nerves one little bit.

"We have to win this one," he keeps repeating as he scoffs down his breakfast, "This is my last chance to take home the cup. We have to win this one!"

Hugo goes very white at James's words and I doubt he even knows that there is food on the plate in front of him. He's staring into the distance and his mind is about a million miles away from the Great Hall. Luckily he hasn't put on any eyeliner today, nor has he gelled his hair down onto his face so it covers his eyes. It's in its normal wild state today and he looks like his old self, save for the fact that his hair is still black and not its natural brown.

When James has eaten six sausages and three eggs, and Merlin knows what else, he gets up from the table and visits each team member individually to go over the plan once more. He starts with Fiona Jordan, a fifth year chaser who is sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table and I see her roll her eyes as she spots him coming towards her.

"Lads, let's get out of here," Seán Finnegan whispers to Fred, Dom, Hugo and Simon Longbottom, "He's going to start on us next."

Dom, Fred and Simon jump up and rush out of the hall after Seán, but Hugo stays put. I don't think he's heard a word Seán said.

"Hugh, you'll be fine," I try to reassure him, "It's really not that scary once you're out there."

"I'm going to drop the Quaffle," Hugo whispers so that only I can hear him, "I'm not going to save anything. I'm going to make the team lose and James'll kill me."

"He won't kill you," I lie, "Hugo, you're a great keeper."

"No I'm not," he says, "I inherited Mum's Quidditch skill, you got Dad's. It's not fair, you got all the good genes – the Weasley Quidditch skill, the Granger brains –"

"The Malfoy child?" I add, "The red bushy hair? The innate disability to keep my thoughts to myself? Hugo Harry Weasley, stop putting yourself down. It's not a Quidditch problem you have, it's a confidence one." I'm starting to sound just like my mother. Kill me now. "And it'll be Al's goals you'll be trying to block. You've played him hundreds of times at The Burrow. Just imagine you're at Nana and Grandad's, with just the family watching."

"Except it won't be the family," says Hugo miserably, "It'll be the entire school."

"Well...half this school is our bloody family anyway."

"Good luck today, Hugo!" Professor Longbottom grins at him on the way past the table, "You'll make us all proud!"

And thanks to dear old Neville, all of my hard work has gone down the toilet – Hugo is back to being as pale as Nearly Headless Nick and staring into the distance.

James drags Hugo down to the stadium at a quarter to eleven, and the atmosphere is building already all around the school. It seems everybody has divided between red and green. It's difficult to tell who is a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff because they've changed into the colours of the house they'll be supporting. I spot Jenny and Robert in the crowd, Jenny wearing a green scarf and looking very sour beside Robert, who appears to be supporting Gryffindor. They aren't holding hands – they're not even acknowledging each other.

"You're supporting Slytherin?" I gasp with mock disgust when I reach her, "I thought you had better taste, Miss Winters!"

"So did I," I hear Robert mumble and he walks on ahead of us. Jenny glares after him angrily.