Victoir
After dinner I went straight to bed, trying to get a good night’s sleep before the game, but I barely slept at all. Tomorrow was the first Quidditch match of the year and we were playing Hufflepuff, “At least I won’t have to worry about the other seeker tomorrow,” I said to Cynthia when she came into the dormitory, making her jump, “He’ll be too busy looking at you to pay any attention to the snitch.”
Cynthia rolled her eyes, “I thought you went to bed ages ago,” she sighed as she flopped onto her four poster bed. Cynthia and I were both on the Quidditch team and we couldn’t help but notice Charles Zabini’s obvious affection for Cynthia.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I complained, “I kept thinking about how romantic it will be when he finally racks up the courage to ask you out.”
“Stop it,” she threw a pillow at my face, “I don’t even like him that much. Sure, he’s a nice guy, and he looks decent, I guess. And, yeah, he’s a good quidditch player, but—”
“I’m sure you know all about that.” I threw the pillow back to her, “Have you ever missed one of the Hufflepuff practices?”
“I watch all the teams play so I can learn how they play. It’s pretty normal for the captains to do that.”
“If you say so.” I sighed. After a moment I asked, “Are you nervous at all?”
“Not any more than usual.” Cynthia rolled over onto her back, “We’re going to do great.” Even though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than me, I believed her.
The next day was Saturday, the day of the game, and Cynthia and I were the first ones up. We had to wait in the common room for about half an hour before the rest of the team joined us. My cousin Robin was the Keeper; Benjamin Wolfe, Amanda Cook, and Julie Peterson were the chasers; Anthony Cliffe and Cynthia were the Beaters; and I was the Seeker.
We all sat for another thirty minutes discussing different strategies, when more students came into the common room, “Breakfast time,” Cynthia stood up, “Everybody eat something healthy.”
“Yes, mum,” we all said in unison. But not in a sarcastic way, we all just thought of her as such.
When we got to the Great Hall, the first thing Cynthia did was look up, “Great,” she muttered, “A storm. Just what we need.” She groaned and sat down.
I looked over at the Hufflepuff table. They, too, seemed disappointed. I heard thunder and saw a streak of lightning on the enchanted ceiling. Today’s game was certainly going to be interesting.