The Scamander ✧ Harry Potter Year 1

Chapter 12

The air had begun its seasonal teething, as it nipped and pricked any exposed skin. This provided an excellent opportunity for the students to dust off their house-coloured scarfs and hats. All proudly displaying their allegiance in their segregated stands, awaiting the beginning of the match to kick off the year. Like the rest, I had also decided to adorn my yellow and black house colours as a woollen scarf but stood as a lonesome beaver in the stand of lions. Ron and Hermione were at my side, as well as Hagrid, us all impatiently chatting until the commecment of the game.  Hagrid had gotten a lot less flustered when I was around now, after explaining to me that he was a very big fan of Newt Scamander and I got both him and Charlie an autography (which Ron was also pleased with - however the twins were not, said it was unfair to try and become Charlie's favourite by using dirty tactics - Ron didn't care). The Gryffindor team halted our chatter with their presence on the pitch. Our screams of encouragement began, cheering on not only the success of Gryffindor but hoping to spark life in the friends that were playing, Fred, George and Harry most of all. Fred and George had a more arrogant persona, provided by their experience in the game, and their larger statures than Harry possessed.  Lee Jordon's commentary blared into life in our ears. 

Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the season! Today's game Slytherin versus Gryffindor! The players take their positions as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field to begin the game. 

The cheers of myself and the crowd alike halted as Madam Hooch stepped into her position. The students calmly waited until the next time they could erupt in their gleeful applause...

The bludgers are up...followed by the Golden Snitch. 

Remember, the snitch is worth 150 points. The seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game. The Quaffle is released...and the game begins!

Madam Hooch began the match and released the silence that had overtaken the crowd. The commentary followed the action closely, Lee Jordon's zealous voice permeating through the grounds. My heart hammered in my chest, as I came to a small realisation of the terror I had inflicted upon my poor grandpa throughout my childhood. At this time, I still had no real concept of my grandpa's infallibility or weakness. To me, he was a man who could face dragons and Grandma Tina's wrath alike. I didn't understand the panic in his face or the shouts of danger as he cautioned me against the plethora of idiotic adventures of children. But as I watched Harry, with white knuckles clutching his broom, boys twice his size staring bullet holes through him like prey - a feeling similar to Grandpa's overcame me. 

"Woo, go Harry!" I shouted a rambled mess of encouragements to Harry from my seat, my ears filled with the same from Hermione and Ron. Trying my darnedest to cover my panic with enthusiasm. I had never seen a game of Quidditch before, beyond a magazine or two that managed to find its way to our doorstep. As a child, I didn't pester Grandpa to go to games, My childhood was consumed with creatures, and I didn't have much zest to exchange a single hour of that for a wooden broom, and small to-catch and easy-to-get hit-by balls. But watching the intense game, and partaking in the joyful atmosphere of the crowd, I began to see how witches and wizards alike found enjoyment and craving for such spectacles. 

Angelina Johnson scores! 10 points for Gryffindor! 

Cheers erupted once more, and my cold hands lightly stung as I frivolously clapped them together. A chime commemorates the achievement, along with the plaque tallying 10 points next to Gryffindor on the scoreboard. 

Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle. Bletchley passes to Captain Marcus Flint. 

Another 10 points to Gryffindor!

My cheers stopped, and a wave of nausea hit me as I watched Oliver hurdle towards the ground on his broom after taking a strong hit from Slytherin, the team that seemed to be resigned to playing nice as the points rolled in for Gryffindor. I winced at the impact Oliver made with the ground, the sand that softened his blow puffing into the air. I only drew my eyes away from the collapsed boy at the strangled gasp from Hermione at my side.  I looked up, and the hairs on my arm stood up, as I saw Harry flailing in circles on his broom. 

"Harry!" I panicked at the scene. 

"What's going on with Harry's broomstick?" Hagrid gruffily asked.  I wait anxiously on Hermione, utilising her binoculars. Harry's swinging only becomes more and more violent as I wait.  

"It's Snape! He's jinxing the broom!" Hermione whispered to Ron and I. I looked over to the teacher's stand for Snape, my eyes barely making out the details of his face, and seeing the slight movement at his lips. Dread filled me at the thought of the Hogwarts teachers endangering the students as such. Sure, Professor Snape was a harsh teacher with little respect for the jumbled animal parts he utilises in his potions every day, but to endanger a student, under the nose of everyone, the thought was dark enough. 

"Jinxing the broom?" Ron's voice cracked. 

"Leave it to me," Hermione bravely hands her binoculars to Ron, rushing past us. My eyes divert back to Harry as he is knocked and thrown around, dangling by one arm from the broom. My hand clasped Ron's forearm, he let me squeeze him tightly without complaint. 

"Merlin." My eyes clasped shut, hardly able to look at the scene any longer, imagining the dread Harry feels,  dangling over unending nights in the hospital wing. 

"Come on, Hermione!" Ron encourages. "Yes!" At Ron's joyful exclamation, I peeked my eyes open once again, relieved at the sight that greets me of Harry safely on top of his broom once again. 

"WOOO, YESS!" I yelled, shaking Ron's arm violently in happiness. 

Perhaps I would've enjoyed going to Quidditch with my Grandpa when I was young, making him teach me the rules and going shopping for my first broom. Perhaps I missed some memories, but I gained more all the same. I am proud that my first Quidditch game was also what would become my dearest friend', I'm glad I got to cheer him on as he spluttered and coughed the golden prize, and I'm glad I didn't miss any single hour with my creatures when I had such time with them, but I'm glad I sacrificed that time to gain something different. I love my creatures, but time allows us both to wait patiently for each other. I love my friends, and the determination, courage and most of all the loyalty they show to those closest to them. I'm glad I left some memories to be made. Because memories like these were destined for them. 

"Looks like he's gonna be sick!" Hagrid calls, Harry lurches and the Snitch pops out of his mouth. It lands in his hands. My mouth opened wide in shock.

He's got the Snitch! Harry Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!

A wild applause vibrates through the crowd, Gryffindor and one singular Hufflepuff being the loudest. "Go go Gryffindor! Go go Gryffindor! Go go Gryffindor! Go go Gryffindor!..."