harry potter, rise from dust

chapter 7

dont own a thing 

Chapter 7.

6 Jun 1992.

There was a large cheer from the Quidditch field and a faint groan of discontent. The end of a turbulent game was being conducted in the field. All of the students and staff members had come by to watch, as the match would decide who was worthy of winning the Quidditch cup for the season.

"Harry Potter scores again, making it his twentieth goal..." The commentary position was filled in by Lee Jordan, as usual. However, his generally uncontainable spirit appeared slightly diminished. "Ravenclaw leads 220 to 140... The Gryffindors out there are getting crushed, people. Harry Potter looks unbeatable right now. He just scored six times in a row, stealing every chance for the Gryffindors to score - bloody troublesome, that guy."

"Jordan!"

"Professor, do you see our team is being flattened out there, all because of that stupid-"

"I'm warning you, Jordan!"

"Alright, alright... But, uh... Professor?"

"Jordan, are you having a conversation or performing your duty?"

"Yes, Professor, but, uh... why is your flag blue with the emblem 'HP'? Aren't Gryffindors red? Shouldn't it be a 'G' instead of 'HP'? Hey, doesn't 'HP' stand for Harry-"

"Jordan! Get back on commentary!" McGonagall interrupted in embarrassment, her face was a nice shade of red. True enough, McGonagall was waving a small blue flag in her right hand.

"Yes, well! We're back on the game!" His eyes bugged out at the score. "Bloody hell! 250 to 150, what are you Gryffindors doing out there! Oy, Weasleys! Are you two slacking off? Knock Potter out!" McGonagall was thunderstruck at the tone, and for once, didn't bother to reproach Jordan. "If you can't defeat him, get the bloody snitch! Don't be so incompetent!"

Mounting his broom back to the defensive position, Harry smirked at the scores. Jeffery Barkain, the captain of Ravenclaw, nodded his head in acceptance of Harry's performance. Harry signaled him across the distance, indicating he could go for the snitch. Corroborating the signal, Jeffery nodded his head again in agreement and whooshed off to locate the snitch.

The Ravenclaws' style had been consistently simple in each game. Barkain's job was to distract the opposing team's seeker as long as he could, allowing Harry to launch his relentless assaults until the opposing team didn't stand a chance of catching up to the score. Harry's specialty was stealing and fast attacks. The match had only been going on for roughly thirty minutes, yet the Gryffindors were already squashed. Sheila's face was flushed in anger as she glared at Harry furiously. Seeing the glare Sheila dispatched to him, Harry's smirk expanded. Teasingly, he blew a kiss to the girl, furthering her anger. With steam coming out of her ears and her nostrils, she let out a loud, aggravated shout and darted by Wood to snatch the Quaffle.

"Alright, this time around, distract Johnson and Spinet while I handle Sheila. Let them get near our keeper and draw them in, that's when we strike them. If this works, we'll steal the ball and score again," Harry commanded.

Shannon Aiden, a Ravenclaw chaser, bobbed her head.

"Why should we listen to you, Potter? You're not our captain." Unfortunately, that year, the honor of the last chaser went to Roger.

"Shut up, Davies! You're so annoying. I don't know why we put up with your whining all the time," Shannon defended Harry vehemently. "Harry has more experience than both of us. You're lucky you're decent enough to be a chaser. Do as he says or you'll be hearing from our captain later on. You can save your complaint for Professor Flitwick later."