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ACT2CH29 - Gryffindor Versus Slytherin
🕑 Added 2023-05-28 16:34:24 +0000 UTCHarry peered through the trap door leading to the changing room. The crowd outside was cheering and roaring with expectation. It was the first match of the season and Gryffindor was facing Slytherin. The weather was fine, with no storm clouds and dementors around, which promised an awesome game.
And he’d be facing Daphne who’d be chasing for the other team.
Speaking of Daphne, the girl had been true to her word and made him suffer through the entirety of her howler collections. It was less traumatic than one would expect, because she had straddled him the entire time, busying his lips in a tight snog while their hands explored each other over their clothes. The louder the shrieks and curses became, the more aggressive she became. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that the howlers turned her on.
Who knew the straight-laced girl had such a kinky side?
“Look sharp, Potter!”
He blinked, putting away his thoughts of his steamy encounter and focussed back to the present. Angelina was looming over him, and seemed hell-bent on sharing her stress with every single person on the team. It was her first performance as Captain, with Quidditch being cancelled last year for the tournament, and she wanted to start it all with a bang.
“Okay, everyone,” said Angelina seriously, “Slytherin may have some new faces, but we don’t want any surprises. Derrick and Uruqhart are gone, so Slytherin’s offence will be weak. And Potter, don’t expect me to go easy on Greengrass just because she’s your girlfriend.”
She winked.
Harry grinned at her, ignoring the tinge of embarrassment. “Cor, Angie, if anything you’ll hit her twice as hard.”
Angelina made a kissy face. “You know me so well. Now listen up. Bulstrode is new, but she’s got talent. Both teams know that Malfoy is pants at catching the snitch, so she’ll be aiming for our lover-boy here —”
“Get off my case, Angie!”
“ —Ginny is new, so they’ll underestimate her. Me and Katie will take the offence and Ginny will sneak up and score. Can you do that?”
Ginny nodded fiercely, clutching the Firebolt in her arms.
Harry knew that the littlest Weasley was a die-hard Quidditch fanatic. She had told him how she had, at eight-years of age, persuaded her brother Charlie to teach her how to ride a broom every night after everyone else went to sleep. She had practised with Charlie’s old Cleansweep over the years, and would have to play with that, or use one of the school brooms, but Harry’s surprise offer had changed everything for her.
To say that she had been exhilarated was an understatement. Ever since Harry had offered to let her use his Firebolt, Ginny had been practically attached to it. A part of him pointed out that unlike Ron, Ginny had no qualms about working her arse off day and night to perfect her performance. He knew that because he had often seen her, from his room window, as she flew circles on his broom into the night.
That girl had the potential to become a professional Chaser. Even Angelina thought so.
Unlike Ron. Or Mclaggen. Especially Mclaggen.
He still remembered the moment when he had offered her the Firebolt. He wasn’t giving it away by any means, only loaning it for her to use until she got her hands on a better broom. Besides, he had the Thunderbolt V, and it was better that his trusty Firebolt see some action instead of gathering dust back home.
But nothing, not the pragmatism, not the desire to help, nothing matched the feeling that infused him at seeing the expression in her eyes. There was a fierce joy in them, like a starving man holding his first piece of bread after days, like a forlorn traveller finding an oasis in the middle of the desert. That utter gratification in her brown orbs reminded him of that moment back in Third year, when he and Sirius stood outside the Shrieking Shack, looking at Hogwarts bathing in the full moon’s glow. When his godfather had offered him a place to stay.
A place to call home.
Stop daydreaming, Harry, He chastised himself. You’ve got a match to win.
“And that brings us to our last issue. Our keeper,” Angelina glared at Mclaggen. “Keep your mouth shut and let the others do their jobs. Remember, Warrington is fast and cunning, so get your head in the game. Your brand new Nimbus 2001 won’t save the quaffle.” She ignored Mclaggen’s scowl and turned to Harry. “We Chasers will keep on the offence, but I don’t want to try my luck on Mclaggen’s ego. Get onto the snitch the moment we’re fifty points ahead. Okay?”
“And don’t go cheering for your girlfriend,” Katie winked.
Harry chuckled.
“So listen up, all of you buggering idiots,” said Angelina. “This is it. This is our time, our moment, our life and our future, all of it depends on it. This game, every inch of it, our life is at stake here. I live to win, not to lose and the same goes for you. If we beat Slytherin today, then we’re on our way to win this Quidditch Cup—”
“And Angelina stops getting jittery,” Katie quipped.
Angelina gave her a dirty look, before she continued, “So yeah, we aim to win, not to lose. Play your best out there and thrash those sissies. Go out there and show them what you are made of. Hear the crowds roar for you, hear their screams and support and show them why Gryffindor is the winning team. Alright, on three…” She roared, placing her right hand in front of the group. Every single player joined her.
“One, two, three…”
“GRYFFINDOR!”
The whole team stood up and walked out of the trap door towards the pitch, only to be greeted by the cheering crowd on the other side. He noticed how Ginny was standing ramrod stiff and clamped on her shoulder, smiling at her.
“Nervous?”
“You think?” Ginny looked absolutely jittery. “Seriously Harry, how did you manage this as a firstie? My hands and legs are freezing already.”
His eyes glinted in hilarity. “Don’t worry. The first time is panicky for everyone, but after this, you’ll be fine.”
“Fine? Fine? There’s like, a half a thousand eyes looking at me flying. What if I screw up? What if I am terrible? What if I end up making the team lose—”
“Then you try harder for next time,” said Harry. “And remember what Angie said? Let everyone do their jobs. If I see you falter, I’ll get the snitch. Trust me.”
She met his eyes, swallowed and then nodded.
Harry smiled. Honestly, he felt nervous as hell. Not for his own performance. Malfoy was a known quantity, and he was all talk and no action. The blond ferret had some tricks of his own, but almost always chose to quit if things became too rash for him. No, his real tension was regarding Daphne. He knew Joshua’s fears about her playing Quidditch, and Gryffindor versus Slytherin matches tended to go on the rash side. He only hoped that everything would turn out fine.
…
…
It was not turning out fine.
Half the crowd was cheering while the others were groaning in discontent. The turbulent game was on, and just as expected, it was becoming one of the most rash games he had ever seen.
Trouble was, he wasn’t sure if he should be cheering or sulking because of it.
“Warrington isn’t wasting time at all. He snatches the Quaffle from Katie. He passes it to Flint. Flint to — yes! Fred’s got him. Katie shoots down, ooof! That was a near miss. Katie has the quaffle, and she passes it to Angelina, back to Katie and once back, oh! Damn it! Greengrass steals it right under her! WHAT ARE YOU DOING ANGELINA?”
Lee Jordan, the twin’s friend, ran the commentary, while sitting next to Professor McGonagall, “Daphne Greengrass scores again, making it her sixth goal. Slytherins 60, Gryffindor 40. Merlin’s sake, this girl is good. Where was she hiding all this time? Seriously Angelina, crush her. Don’t give her the prolite treatment because she’s Potters’ —”
“JORDAN!” McGonagall warned.
“Bletchley throws the quaffle, off to Warrington, Warrington to Greengrass, Greengrass to Montague, Montague to, Missed! Katie steals the quaffle, Katie throws it, Angelina dives and tosses it and GOYLE YOU ARSEHOLE, YOU COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY —”
“JORDAN!”
“Professor, you saw what that son of a pygmy puff -”
“Jordan I’m warning you —”
But Jordan wasn’t quelled. “It looks like the Gryffindor team is seriously missing their chaser and captain. Ginny Weasley has some really big shoes to step in, and Oh stop chattering, Mclaggen. Angelina, fuckin’ ignore him, focus on the — Oh to your right! And Daphne Greengrass scores again!”
The Slytherins were leading by thirty points, and the Snitch was still nowhere to be seen. And by Merlin, Daphne hadn’t been kidding. Sure she had a Nimbus 2002, but a good broom could only make up so far. Anyone with eyes could see that she had talent in spades and the Gryffindor team was only discovering it right now.
He watched, utterly amazed as Daphne effortlessly intercepted the quaffle from Katie, and took off at rush speed, pushing her broom to its maximum limit. He knew that she had always hated being considered frail, and this was her way of proving herself. If anything, knowing that her life could end in just two short years had given the girl the zeal to live as much of it as possible.
He saw both Weasleys stare at her flabbergasted as she plunged straight into their defences. He heard Montague call out for Bulstrode to support her, but it was obvious that Daphne didn’t care. Her sight was on the goal post. George sent the first bludger to disrupt her flight, and then Fred sent the second one. Daphne scowled and budged her broom, missing the first one by inches and then reclaimed her trajectory, missing the second bludger by at least a feet and rushed past them at tremendous speed.
“STOP HER!” Angelina screamed.
Harry saw Mclaggen focus on Daphne, an arrogant smirk on his face as he came to guard the hoops. Daphne faked a convincing throw at him and the sucker took it. She twisted her body and then threw it at the last goal post, scoring again.
And then she turned and faced Harry, smirking.
Harry knew why. Daphne had just performed Alicia’s signature move.
There was the familiar high-pitched sound of a whistle.
“And the Gryffindor team captain declares a timeout, for a meeting,” said Jordan sullenly. “Hopefully Gryffindor has something up their sleeve to match Slytherin’s deadly offence. Slytherin 80, Gryffindor 40.”
…
…
“It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!” Angelina groaned, as Katie applied the ice packet on her shoulder.
Harry winced. He had seen how the furious bludger had assaulted her, hitting her right at the shoulder girdle, bringing back fresh memories of a similar bludger that had put him through hell and back. At least Snape had enchanted it to be slower, or else it’d have squashed his head apart. Even then, he had gotten hit at least eleven times before Snape had called it a day.
Problem was, Angelina didn’t have that advantage.
“Angie, you’re in no place to continue,” said Katie, “your shoulder is dislocated. You can hardly throw it and —”
“I have to,” claimed Angelina. “This is our first match and I—”
“I can take your place,” Ginny offered.
“No way,” Angelina scoffed. “You’re good, but not that good. You couldn’t sneak your way through when we were attracting the beaters. What makes you think you can take the lead?”
Ginny turned red, but didn’t say anything.
“Angie,” Harry spoke up, surprising everyone, “I think you should give Ginny a chance. I was watching. You were playing almost like you were substituting for yourself and Alicia. And that’s what weakened your offence. Get it through, Alicia isn’t in the team anymore, and you need to believe that Ginny is your third member.”
Ginny stared at him, like looking at him for the first time.
Angelina stood up, her eyes blazing. “Potter, if you think you can lecture me on—”
“I’m not lecturing,” Harry snapped. “My father was a Chaser and he played for Puddlemere United, alright? I saw his games from a memory that Daphne gave me for my birthday. And I’ve been watching you all play for the last four years. I have eyes, Angie, and I know what you’re doing. I get it, Ginny is young and inexperienced, but you need to give her the opportunity. She’s lean, she’s quick and she’s got a firebolt. And you’ve got a shoulder injury. If anyone that has a chance to match Daphne right now, it’s got to be Ginny.”
“And me?” Katie demanded, looking sour.
“You have a tougher job. You’re already defending against the beaters and staving off Montague and Warrington. Let Ginny deal with Daphne and Daphne alone. Both of them are quick at stealing, and Ginny has the advantage of having studied Daphne’s moves. She can be unpredictable and get us some scores.”
That shut Katie up.
“Wow, Harrikins,” said Fred, looking impressed. “You offer our little sister your firebolt and then pitch her against your girlfriend. Somebody’s got balls.”
“You know what they say,” Harry grinned ferally. “All is fair in love, war and Quidditch.”
…
…
“And there is a change in Gryffindor strategy. Angelina has taken a backstep, no doubt because of her injury, and Katie and, oh wow, Ginny Weasley, the newest Gryffindor chaser has taken the primary offensive against Greengrass. Wait, is that a firebolt?”
Harry winced.
“The match continues to get even more interesting by the second, ladies and gentle wizards. Ginny Weasley, on Harry Potter’s firebolt, and Daphne Greengrass on a Nimbus 2002. Madam Hooch launches the quaffle, and Ginny catches it, throws it to Katie, Katie to Angelina, Angelina dives, throws, and oh, is that a— Wow, Ginny Weasley catches the throw midway and feints and SCORES!”
Harry threw a fist into the air.
“Gryffindor 50, Slytherin 80. Yes, Ladies and gentle-wizards, this is becoming an exciting match. Can’t believe it is the first match of the season. The two new chasers from each team are stealing the show!”
Harry could hear the groans from the Slytherin crowd as Katie intercepted a throw from Montague and swept it back to Angelina who faked a throw at her, and instead shot it to Ginny. The Slytherin beaters, Goyle and Bulstrode, struggled their best to strike her down. Harry’s eyes tracked Ginny’s movements, and knew that she’d figure out how to pass through them right in the nick of time and—
“GOAL! Gryffindor 60. Slytherin 80.”
Harry grinned. He was enjoying the fuck out of this match. He noticed Daphne steal the quaffle as the Weasley twins used their infamous Doppelganger defence, and shot repeated bludgers without holding back their strength, aiming for Daphne’s broom and her elbow, but she casually swerved downward on her broom, missing them with ease, leaving their mouths open and —
“Goal! Slytherin 90. Gryffindor 60. Has Slytherin found a new rising star in Daphne Greengrass? Angelina should’ve really used Ginny in the beginning. Mclaggen throws the quaffle, Angelina has it, passes it to Ginny, passes to Katie, Katie dodges Warrington, Katie— oh, that’s a narrow miss, is that even legal? Katie passes it to Ginny, and Ginny outflies the three chasers, Warrington, on her trail, and yes, she’s got it! So slippery! Avoiding Montague’s sudden attack and Warrington all at once, it’s like she’s covered in slick oil and now, Ginny’s rushing to the goal posts, nothing can stop her now. She’s getting closer and hang on! That’s a feint! Ginny switches and throws and Bletchley falls for it and, GOAL!”
And then he saw it.
The flutter of gold in the air.
Malfoy had not yet seen it, but it looked like he had decided to play defensive, and block his moves at every turn. That would keep Harry from getting close to the snitch while giving Malfoy a larger room to manoeuvre around.
A dirty trick, but within the rules.
And so it begins.
He leaned on his broom and dived towards the Snitch and Malfoy followed. The Thunderbolt obeyed his thoughts, a slight glint of gold to his right as his broom cut a wide arc through the air, while Daphne fooled Mclaggen once more and scored yet another goal. He didn’t need to look behind to know that Malfoy was behind him. The gold shimmered again, and Harry plunged after it, dodging two bludgers on the way.
“Looks like Potter has spotted the Snitch! Get on with it, Harry! Draco Malfoy has brought in a brand new Firebolt, but our Harry has a Thunderbolt V. The makers of the Thunderbolt V say that it beats the Firebolt by a considerable degree, as is proof by the Thunderbolt V being the League’s favourite of the year —”
“Jordan, focus on the match!”
“Right, erm, Professor. And the quaffle passes to Ginny, and Ginny steals through Goyle’s defences and passes and she throws and damn! Bletchley blocks it. Montague has the quaffle, passes to Greengrass, passes back to Montague, he dives towards, yes! Get him Fred! Montague loses the Quaffle, Warrington has it, passes to Greengrass and drops — what the! Angelina steals the quaffle from Greengrass’s unfortunate miss and dives closer, passes to Katie, Oh, that’s clever, Katie passes it to Ginny, back to Katie, and Katie SCORES!”
The sudden news took him by surprise and he momentarily lost focus on the snitch. Harry frowned, and ducked a bludger that Goyle sent his way and looked at Daphne and found her frozen in mid-air, her hands clenching her broom tightly as she—
Damn it. She was shaking. She was shaking! It couldn’t fucking be—
Damn it. Damn it. Of all the times, why now? Why in the middle of the match? Every inch of him wanted to stop the match right away and get to her and get her down safely. Up there in the air, she was a sitting duck for beaters and bludgers. He needed to —
His fists clenched. He needed to finish the match. Right now.
He turned around, looking for the Snitch, and there it was, passing right by Malfoy’s shoulder. Malfoy followed his gaze and took after it. Harry dived across the pitch, his mind bifurcated into ending the match and fearing for Daphne's safety. He pushed his broom to maximum limit and soon matched his trajectory with the Snitch’s course. The next moment, he was shoulder to shoulder with Malfoy as they dove downwards into a Spiral Dive.
Faster! He pushed the Thunderbolt into a speeding dive, quickly approaching maximum speed. He only hoped the braking charm was as good as it claimed. He saw Bulstrode launch a bludger at him, and performed a quick Sloth-grip roll, evading it as it went for Malfoy. The snitch kept making wild turns to escape the two seekers. He saw the Snitch make a weird right turn. His instincts tingled and he took a hard turn on the left.
“Potter deflects from the course! Malfoy stays! Wait, Malfoy snatches a bat from Goyle and hits the bludger—”
Harry swerved to the left and braked himself again, just in time to evade the bludger, which shot right past his ear.
“MISSED!” He threw back.
Draco had a vindictive grin on his face. “Did I? Look behind you!”
Harry squinted his eyes and prepared to shoot after the snitch again, when the hairs on the back of his neck rose up, and an icy feeling began to settle against his chest. He spun backwards and was welcomed by the sight of a spasming Daphne, high up in the air, who was doing her best to hold onto her broom and not drop to the ground. His shoulders gave a little twitch, his eyes widening in growing horror as he witnessed the bludger hurling through the air at her, and frantically looked back at Draco, who smirked at him and sped off after the snitch. Time slowed down, and he froze in place for a terrible heartbeat, his face twisting in nausea and utter conflict. He looked around for someone, anyone that could help, for some way to keep the bludger from hitting her. Fred and George were near the goalposts, and too far away for any timely aid. Even Millicent Bulstrode, who Daphne claimed to be a friend, was far too distant to arrive within time.
“HA-HA!” barked Draco Malfoy as he threw the bat back at Goyle and sped off after the snitch.
The reality of his dire situation set in. There was no time to think. So he acted on instinct.
Swerving the Thunderbolt V towards Daphne, Harry shot upwards like a missile. The desperation and panic had almost slowed down his perception of time, so much that it felt like it would take an eternity to travel between where he was, and where the bludger was. The Thunderbolt could accelerate to two hundred miles an hour in ten seconds, and the bludger would reach Daphne in the next four. Even if he could outspeed the bludger, he couldn’t possibly push her out of the way to evade the hit.
Three seconds.
Even pulling out his wand and casting the summoning spell at the bludger would take at least five seconds — one second more than he could afford. Even trying to cast pure Death to destroy the bludger wouldn’t work. Apart from the uncertainty that his wandless casting would hit it in time, it would do nothing to alter its momentum that alone would hurt Daphne a lot. Not to mention if it exploded, it could severely injure her. All he could do was push the broom to move faster and faster —
Two seconds.
He was right at its trail. Daphne was just a little further, and the bludger was inches away from him. Harry extended his left hand which was closest to the mad thing—
One second.
He outpaced it, and suddenly, the world was an agonising blur, as he brought the broom to a sudden stop. A part of him idly remembered that the Thunderbolt V needed at least two and a half seconds to get to zero safely, and that stopping it midway like that would be bad, horribly bad for him. He felt the bludger shatter the bones in his left arm, as the broom halted in mid-air, throwing him off it. He briefly remembered falling over Daphne’s shaking form, as the two of them fell off, dropping down towards the ground that looked at least several hundred feet away. He grabbed Daphne with his broken arm, the movement sending waves of agony down his spine, but he gritted his teeth, and twisted his right wrist, his wand spinning into his palm. With a well-practised flick of his wrist, he yelled to the high heavens.
“ACCIO THUNDERBOLT!”
In less than a second, the broom was right next to him. Harry sent his wand spinning back into the holster and grabbed the broom, holding it against Daphne’s back so that he could put both hands on the shaft. The impact got them spinning and after two rotations, he was able to sit on it, with Daphne sitting before him, still spasming and unconscious. Oh, and they were barely ten feet from crashing.
With supreme effort, he pulled the broom upwards, the Thunderbolt making a last-minute turn as it changed its trajectory barely two feet above the ground, and shot straight towards the stands, slowing down with every second. Harry barely managed to hold on, as the Thunderbolt redistributed its gravity and came down to a slow halt.
And then the sound of a high-pitched whistle tore through the air.
“DRACO MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!” roared Lee Jordan. “SLYTHERIN WINS BY 140 POINTS!”
Half the stadium stood up from their seats and cheered at this, going wild at the unexpected end. The Gryffindors on the other hand, looked utterly depressed and slowly flew to the ground, as the Slytherin quidditch team rushed towards Draco, lifting him up on their shoulders and treating him like a king. Harry ignored the looks he was getting and instead focussed on the girl in his arms, who had now grown calmer and lost consciousness. He almost sighed in elation when Madam Hooch and Madam Pomfrey took Daphne off his arms and he slowly pushed himself off his broom, which stood locked in air, merrily disobeying gravity. He could see a minor quarrel between Ginny and Mclaggen with the latter glaring daggers at him and Ginny telling him to go cool off. He didn’t need to look at the twins to know that they were displeased with him, and hoped they’d understand why he did it.
And truth be told, he did fail them. Draco Malfoy knew his weakness and had targeted it at a prime moment. Malfoy knew that he’d go after Daphne, and dropped the ball in his court, letting him deal with the distraction that was the bludger and caught the snitch in that moment. Harry gritted his teeth, and cradled his injured arm, and took out his wand again, placing it on his wounded left wrist.
There were no vanished bones this time around, so the bone-mending charm would do fine, so long as he used it on himself. Not for the first time, he mentally thanked Andi for teaching him the full list of medical spells he’d need to survive an entire year at Hogwarts.
“Brackium Emendo,” He murmured, pressing the wand against the broken wrist, and silently waiting for the spell to take effect. He let out a hiss as the bones jerked suddenly and twisted, fitting back into their places with a soft clicking sound. It’d take him several hours before the pain would be gone, so he cast a quick bandaging charm around it for good measure.
“Potter?”
Harry looked up and met Madam Hooch’s eyes.
“If I might say, that looks like a serious wrist injury. I doubt merely bandaging it will be enough.”
“I mended it earlier, professor,” he said, restraining himself from shaking in anger at being outplayed like that by Malfoy of all people. He knew this was the bastard’s way of getting at him for getting him suspended for two weeks. And honestly, Harry could get behind that reasoning. He didn’t have to like it, but he’d have understood. But Draco Malfoy hadn’t come for him, he had hurt Daphne to get to him. In his pointless war against Harry, Draco had raised the stakes. Did the ferret really not understand how much he was… escalating things?
“You mended it yourself?” asked Hooch, giving him a sceptical look.
Harry cast away his inner rage and composed his features again. “My aunt is a healer at St. Mungo’s. Andromeda Tonks. She made me practise it enough times during the summer.”
“I see,” said the Quidditch professor. “Still, you should get Poppy, have a look at it. Just in case. Wrist injuries can be quite nasty if left untreated.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, professor.”
“See that you do,” she said as he proceeded to walk past her. “Oh, and Potter?”
Harry paused, mid-step. He heard Hooch take a step close to him from behind.
“Yes, professor?”
“That was a brave thing you did,” she said. “Poppy told me that Miss Greengrass suffers from a certain malady. I did notice she was behaving oddly during the match, but it was their Captain’s call to take a time-out and bench her for the rest of the match. I understand that if that bludger would have hit her, the consequences would have been disastrous.”
Harry clenched his hands. His injured wrist sent a flare of agony up his arm, but he bore it. Compared to what was burning within his heart, it was a nice distraction.
“In hindsight, it is clear that Draco Malfoy chose to hurt Miss Greengrass just to divert you from catching the Snitch. However, he didn’t break any rules, so he remains the winner.”
Harry nodded but still said nothing.
“What you did there, Potter, takes a special kind of bravery. To lose the snitch, to be the reason for the team’s loss against Slytherin, all for saving a member of the opponent’s side, that takes guts. I’ve no doubt you’ll suffer a lot of flak for this, but you are a credit to your House.”
Harry chuckled, and turned to face Hooch. Her expression faltered when she saw that the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“I hope that Gryffindor House thinks that too. Though I doubt it. Good day, professor.”
With that, he began to walk away towards his room. There would be a time for facing the rest of the team, and he knew he’d have to take a lot of flak for his choice.
But that was fine.
He had never feared punishment. Especially when he deserved it. For now, he needed a shower. He needed to clean himself, and reflect on his own emotions. It would not do to continue stewing on the rage festering within his heart. After all the nasty spells he had been practising, and with the amount of Death energy he kept casting in the workshop, it would be a nightmare if he lost control.
No. He had priorities. He needed to get calm, to think, to plan. He needed to ensure that Daphne was alright, and focus on the bigger things. And after that… everything would be fair game.
Comments
Kevin Thunder
Yeah, but I'm not sure of the legality of it. That didn't happen in the book. Aren't there 700 rules in Quidditch? Bound to be one of them.
The BlackStaff and NightMarE
The Pomona thing was put in by mistake. Edited. As for Malfoy hitting the bludger with a bat, something similar happened in the COS film, where Flint (chaser) snatched the bat from a fellow beater and hit the bludger at Wood. As for Ginny, having a firebolt is better than using the school cleansweeps.
