Harry Potter's Twin Sister

Quidditch, Quirrell, and the Quirofaux

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows, defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch pitch, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit-fur gloves and enormous beaver skin boots. 

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the House Championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should remain, well, a secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn't know which was worse — people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him, holding a mattress. 

It was really lucky that Harry now has Hermione as a friend. He didn't know how he'd have got through all his homework without her, what with all the last-minute quidditch practice Wood was making them do. She also lent him Quidditch through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read. 

Harry learnt that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them happened during a World Cup in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

The morning of the big game dawned bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match. 

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Come on, just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.

"I'm not hungry."

Harry felt terrible. In an hour's time he'd be walking on to the pitch.

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan, "Seekers are always the ones to get nobbled by the other team."

'Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

"He's right, you know," said Hazel, plopping down next to Harry and helping herself to a breakfast muffin.

"Who knows how long you'll be up there," she said through a mouthful of crumbs, "You might have to miss lunch."

——

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus and Dean the West Ham Fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President  and Dean, who was rather good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours. They were soon joined by Hazel, who eagerly showed them a parcel that she had received that morning in the post.

"It's called a Quirofaux."

"What does it do?" 

"It's a lighter," she said, holding it up for them all to see as she flicked open the top and ignited it.

They watched with amusement as the flames took on different shapes and colours, which danced as they transformed from one animal to the next, and even took the form of a face.