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HP Chapter 31: Quidditch
🕑 Added 2025-08-10 15:00:12 +0000 UTCEver since that conversation in the library, Anne noticed that Fanny had been spending more and more time outside the common room. Most nights, when Anne returned from the greenhouses, Fanny wasn’t back yet, quite the change from her usual habit of reading in the common room. Her once-neat robes often came back with damp hems.
One night, just before bed, curiosity got the better of Anne. “Fanny, what have you been up to lately?”
“Nothing much. We still go to class, eat, and hang out together…” came Fanny’s muffled reply from under the covers.
“Well, yes, that’s true. But when I go to the greenhouses, where do you go? And how come you’ve been getting back even later than me the past few nights?”
“You told me to find something I’m interested in, remember? I thought that was a good idea, so I did! As for what it is… I’m not telling. It’s a secret…” Fanny’s voice was still muffled from under her blanket.
That piqued Anne’s interest. “A secret? Then, ”
Fanny interrupted quickly, her voice flustered. “Don’t ask, Anne! You have your secrets too, right? So of course I can have mine. That’s it! I’m going to sleep!”
“Alright then, sleep well. Good night…” Anne thought to herself before drifting off, maybe she should have a proper talk with Fanny when they had time. But then again, it was perfectly normal for girls their age to have little secrets. Best to leave it alone for now.
Her mind slowly slipped into sleep…
After that, Fanny’s odd behavior disappeared. When Anne returned to the dorms at night, Fanny was usually back in the common room reading again. Sometimes she even tutored the two other girls in their dorm, and Anne occasionally joined in. After all, not every child in the wizarding world was a prodigy.
On Saturday morning, Fanny yanked Anne out of bed. The first match of the Quidditch House Cup this year was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. And the Slytherin team had a new player: Draco Malfoy.
“Come on, Anne, get up! Pansy and the others already left, and I brought you breakfast too.” Fanny whipped open the heavy curtains surrounding Anne’s four-poster bed.
“Ugh…” Anne groaned and pulled the blanket over her head to block the light.
Fanny’s voice was full of excitement. “You saw how Malfoy was bragging last night about his new broomstick, and said his dad bought it for him. Let’s go see if he’s really as amazing as he claims!”
Rubbing her eyes, Anne sat up and started getting dressed. “If you already think he’s full of hot air, then what’s there to see?”
“But the whole Slytherin team got new brooms this year! I want to see how Gryffindor plans to handle it. Pansy told me ages ago that it was Malfoy’s dad who bought all those brooms, probably the only reason Malfoy made the team.”
Still half-asleep, Anne pulled a jumper over her head. “So you think Slytherin will win easily?”
“Not necessarily. Gryffindor’s been training really hard lately.”
Anne paused mid-brush in the bathroom. “How would you know that?”
“Of course I know. I’ve seen them, ” Fanny stopped herself halfway through the sentence, her expression suddenly sheepish. She quickly added, “I mean, when we go back to the dorm after dinner, I’ve seen the Gryffindor team just arriving for theirs.”
“Is that so?” Anne wiped her face with a towel, then hung it up and stepped out of the bathroom. She smirked and teased, “You haven’t secretly taken a liking to one of the Gryffindor boys, have you? Is that why you’ve been sneaking out?”
Fanny’s face turned crimson as she hastily denied it. “Anne! What are you even saying?! I was just, just…”
“Don’t worry, no need to explain,” Anne laughed, wrapping a scarf around her neck.
“Hmph…” Fanny gave her an exaggerated glare and stomped off.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, Fanny…” Anne quickly grabbed her breakfast from the nightstand and chased after her. Note to self, she thought, girls this age are sensitive, don’t push too far with teasing.
At the Quidditch pitch, Anne and Fanny stood right at the front of the Slytherin stands, thanks to Fanny, who insisted on dragging her there as penance for Anne’s teasing.
Anne wasn’t thrilled. The yelling from the stands came from every direction, surrounding her like a living wall of noise. Worst of all, she couldn’t leave.
Fanny, however, was clearly delighted. “It’s great watching Quidditch from up close, isn’t it, Anne?” she shouted into her ear.
Anne had no choice but to nod. Fanny was too happy to mind. She turned toward the field as the players entered, and Madam Hooch instructed Flint and Wood to shake hands.
Anne, seeing Fanny’s attention shift, glanced up at the sky, thick clouds were rolling in, and distant thunder rumbled. She silently hoped it wouldn’t rain.
“On my whistle,” Madam Hooch’s voice rang out across the field.
“Three… two… one!”
The stadium erupted as fourteen players shot into the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than anyone else, eyes narrowed, scanning for the Golden Snitch.
Malfoy sped after him, circling him closely, clearly trying to show off the speed of his new broomstick.
Suddenly, a heavy black Bludger zoomed straight at Harry. He dodged it by a hair’s breadth, feeling the wind from it ruffle his hair.
“That was close, Harry!” George shouted as he streaked past, bat in hand, aiming to send the Bludger at a Slytherin player. Anne saw George take a hard swing toward Malfoy, but the Bludger abruptly changed direction and headed right back for Harry.
“Hahaha!” Malfoy rose a little higher and hovered. “Looks like that Bludger’s got it in for you, Scarhead!”
Harry didn’t respond. He dived instead, narrowly avoiding another hit. George intercepted and sent it flying again, but the Bludger curved back like a boomerang and homed in on Harry’s head.
Harry shot off toward the far end of the field, the Bludger howling behind him. Fred appeared ahead and slammed it off-course, but even then, it doubled back toward Harry again.
In the stands, Fanny tugged on Anne’s sleeve. “Anne, look! The Bludger keeps going after Harry!”
“Where?” Anne adjusted her binoculars, tracking from the goalposts to midair. She saw Harry weaving frantically, the black ball trailing closely behind him.
“Could someone have cursed it?” Fanny asked, worried.
“Madam Hooch checks all the balls before every match,” Anne replied. “It’s probably just targeting Harry, Bludgers are meant to knock players off their brooms.”
“But they don’t usually fixate on one player like this!” Fanny insisted.
Anne didn’t respond. A moment later, she muttered under her breath, “Just my luck, it’s actually starting to rain.”
She raised one hand to shield her head and tugged Fanny’s sleeve with the other. “Fanny! It’s raining! Let’s go back?”
“What?” Fanny shouted.
Anne pointed up. “It’s raining!”
“That’s even better! It’s rare to watch a match in the rain, it makes it more exciting!” Fanny shouted back, eyes already on the pitch again.
As if on cue, the crowd roared once more.
Anne glanced around the Slytherin stands. Hardly anyone had brought an umbrella, and no one seemed to care about the rain. Instead, the excitement only intensified.
The first drops were large, cool splashes on her robe. Then the rain thickened into a steady downpour. Anne gave up trying to shield herself, dropped her hand, and sighed inwardly. Fine. Let’s call this youthful impulsiveness, just this once.
As the rain poured harder, the score gap widened. “Slytherin scores again! That brings it to seventy-ten!” someone shouted, and the Slytherin stand erupted in cheers.
But just then, Gryffindor called for a timeout.
The stands buzzed with speculation. “What’s going on?” “Are they changing tactics?”
Fanny zoomed her binoculars. “Anne, what do you think? Why are they pausing?”
Anne scanned the field. “Not sure… Maybe they’re talking about the Bludger? It has been chasing their two best players nonstop.”
Just as she finished speaking, a whistle blew, the game resumed.
Fanny immediately followed the Gryffindor players with her binoculars. Anne shifted her focus to the teachers’ stand, curious to see Professor Snape’s reaction. But he wasn’t there, only Lockhart, under a large umbrella. That’s odd, she thought. Why is he the only one there? Where are the others?
“Merlin’s beard!”
Fanny’s sudden exclamation jerked Anne’s attention back to the field. She looked just in time to see Harry fall from his broom and crash hard into the ground, his arm twisted at an unnatural angle. That must hurt, Anne thought.
Gasps echoed across the pitch. Lockhart rushed down from the stands. Students from the Gryffindor section, Hermione and Ron in the lead, ran down to the field too.
Fanny grabbed Anne’s arm, panic in her voice. “That was awful, Anne! I saw it! The Bludger smashed into Harry’s arm, then he just charged at Malfoy and fell off his broom!”
Suddenly, the commentator’s voice boomed, “Merlin’s beard, Harry’s holding the Golden Snitch! Gryffindor wins! 160 to 70!”
The crowd froze in stunned silence. Then the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw stands erupted with cheers: “Harry Potter! Harry Potter!”
Fanny clapped a hand over her mouth. “That was amazing!” Then she grabbed Anne’s hand. “We’ve got to go check on him!”
But by the time they reached the pitch, they were told Harry had already been taken to the hospital wing by Hermione and Ron.
“Oh well,” Anne said, tugging on Fanny’s arm. “They’re gone, let’s head back and dry off. You’ll see them again soon anyway.”
She led a disappointed Fanny back toward the castle.
