Hermione Lights a Teacher on Fire
Quidditch began on a frosty Saturday in november. Holly and Tracey climbed up the steep stairs to the Slytherin stand with the rest of their house shortly before eleven, but almost as soon as they were up they saw Hermione and Neville holding up a great poster that read “Potter for President”.
“I don’t know who to root for.” Tracey whispered, excitedly.
Holly sighed. “I don’t like sports.” she muttered. The last time she had watched Harry play football at recess at their old school, she’d been hit in the face with the ball. Still, Ron had been sure to impress upon her the gravity of Harry being made seeker in his first year. Apparently that had not happened in the hundred years. She was very proud of Harry for this, if not still a bit miffed over how it came to be.
Most of the school cheered for Gryffindor when they stepped onto the field. Holly didn’t make a sound. She rather wanted to keep her bed free of worms that night. But, she watched her brother intently. When her own house’s team stepped out of the locker room, she found that their stand was the only one cheering. She couldn’t quite bring herself not to cheer along with them, though she felt sort of bad for it, seeing Harry down there, looking like he was going to be sick… it just seemed like her house needed more enthusiasm.
Madam Hooch gathered the two teams together, said something, blew her whistle, and sent them off.
“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angela Jonson of Gryffindor - what an excellent chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-” the announcement was interrupted by Professor McGonagall snapping,
“JORDAN!” at his inappropriate comment.
“Sorry Professor…”
“Wasn’t he the one with the tarantula on the train?” Tracey wondered, mildly.
“Jordan? Yeah. I heard it was really big, too!” Theodore Nott agreed from a few seats over, just passed Daphne and Blaise.
“A tarantula?” Holly asked, feeling suddenly a bit faint. “It’s not… in the school, is it?” but she was never answered because that was when the commentary picked up again.
“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve - back to Jonson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he’s going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindor’s take the Quaffle - thats Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a bludger - Quaffle taken by Slythrins - that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goal posts, but he’s blocked by a second bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor beater, anyway, and Jonson is back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she’s really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - goalposts ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Blethchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!”
Holly’s stand erupted in moans and growls, and a few profanities from the older students. It was almost loud enough to drown out the rest of the school’s cheering on of Gryffindor’s team.
Holly watched her brother, floating on his nimbus two-thousand a little apart from the action. He was squinting and scanning the air in all directions, but he so far, had not moved. Now he was doing loop-the-loops, as if to cheer on his team.
The match went on, and soon, Harry seemed to have spotted something. He darted after it, but he wasn’t alone. The Slytherin seeker was on his tail, but slower than he was. And Flint…
WHAM!
Marcus Flint had blocked Harry, throwing him off course. Holly watched with bated breath - ignoring all other commentary or comments from her housemates - as Harry struggled to regain control of his broom, only to lose it again mere moments after. In fact, now it was jerking around dangerously. He didn’t seem to have control of it at all.
Holly grabbed Tracey’s arm and began to tear through the stands towards the teachers section, hoping to get one of them to stop this madness. No game was worth Harry’s life!
“Look!” Tracey panted, pointing across the way to where Hermione seemed to be doing the same thing. Only… her wand was drawn and ready. Had she seen something Holly hadn’t? What was happening to Harry? Why hadn’t anyone intervened yet?
Holly ran faster, losing Tracey somewhere in the crowd but keeping pace with Hermione across the way. Holly was about to run into the teachers stand when Hermione caught her eye from the other side of the teachers section and shook her head, a finger pressed to her lips. She pointed down and Holly nodded in understanding.
Hermione crouched low, so Holly did the same, creeping along until they met each other on the back side of the stand, just under the steps. “It’s Snape!” Hermione hissed. “He’s cursed Harry’s broom!”
Holly did not like her head of house much at all, and he did seem to really hate her brother for no reason at all, but would he really try to kill him? “Are you sure?” she hissed back. Hermione squinted at her, tilting her head in confusion. Holly figured she hadn't heard and said very lowly, “are you sure?”
“Yes!” Hermione insisted. She turned towards the gap in the steps and pointed her wand at Professor Snape’s recognisable black cloak. She muttered what Holly recognised as the bluebell flames spell, and Snape’s cloak erupted in flames. Chaos ensued in the teacher’s section as the all tried to put out the fire. Chaos that Holly and Hermione used to slip away.
Tracey was just passed the section, waiting for one or both of them to emerge - which, they did just as Harry managed to climb onto his broom. Only, he immediately began to dive for the ground. Actually, Holly thought he looked like he was about to be sick…
Harry fell to the ground on all fours and coughed. Out came the Golden Snitch. “I’ve got the snitch!” he cried, dancing around on the ground, waving it around above his head.
Holly sagged with relief.
“So what happened?” Tracey asked, leaning over the railing to watch Harry dance around with his prize.
“Hermione lit a teacher on fire.” Holly said, not worried about being overheard. Everyone was screaming around them.
Tracey whipped around to look at them, incredulous. “She WHAT?”
Hermione had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. “He was cursing Harry’s broom! I’m sure of it!”
Tracey looked very impressed. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, Hermione.”