James Potter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alotofgood) wrote2011-01-30 04:32 pm
alotofgood) wrote2011-01-30 04:32 pm
014. may 1976. quidditch match.
May 30, 1976 — 11:05 hours.
Hogwarts, Scotland
Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch
Quentin March has spent nearly all of breakfast gathering the team for a last-minute pep-talk. Aurelius Lomax insisted that they were going to be fine and that some of them had to eat before the big game, but it was Arlet Jayaraman who stood up and demanded that March take a moment to breathe before did something ridiculous like faint from hyperventilation. And, James had added, he ought to have a piece of toast, because it was particularly excellent that morning.
Minutes later, after washing down his piece of toast with orange juice, March disappears.
Arlet sighs. "I'd better go check up on him," she says, rolling her eyes. She disappears too.
After seeing his mates off, James and Cliona walk towards the pitch together, following their fellow teammates who all seem to be experiencing a mixture of nerves and excitement.
Today is a big day.
Today is the day Gryffindor is going to beat Slytherin for the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup.
"Team," March says, looking anxious but serious, as they file into the changing room, "we are going to give them everything we've got today. We've been practicing hard. All of the strategies — we've been over everything countless times, I reckon we can do it all with our eyes closed. We'll — what is it, Potter?"
James gets to his feet, his scarlet Gryffindor robes only half pulled on. "We're going to be brilliant," he reassures him. "And you've already given this exact pep-talk only half an hour ago."
Cliona and Clayworth snort quietly.
March turns his sharp gaze from one girl to the other. Raquel Clayworth quickly turns back to her gauntlets.
"Yes. Well." March looks flustered. "It doesn't hurt to remind you all of the importance of this match. This is my last year here, as you know. I enjoy every game that Gryffindor beats Slytherin, but this ... this one's a bit different. So, excuse me, Potter, for wanting to get our team a little excited."
James raises his hands, but he grins. "You're the Captain."
"Right. So, where was I? Oh, yes. With this — what now, Shacklebolt?"
"Sorry to interrupt, but —" He taps his watch. "It's time, March."
---
The Gryffindor team walk out onto the pitch, greeted immediately by the torrent of excited, cheering students packed into the stands. There are banners of red on one side, and banners of green on the other. Students are waving their arms and yelling cheers of 'GO GO GRYFFINDOR!' while others cheer for Slytherin's team.
James spots Sirius, Remus and Peter somewhere amongst them, near the front. His eyes go to Lily Evans not far from them, accompanied by Pennifold, Macdonald and Cadwallader.
To the right, the commentator stand is occupied by professors and Thomas Levy, who now shouts, "And here they come! The Gryffindor team: Potter, Byrne, Shacklebolt, Lomax, Jayaraman and Clayworth, led by their captain, March!"
The cheers, if possible, get louder.
James grins, resisting the urge to wave like a celebrity.
"And now — the Slytherins! Led by their captain, Vanity: Black, Pucey, Bole, Witte, Talkalot and Rukin. This is guaranteed to be a very intense match!"
There's another series of cheers alongside just as many 'boos'. James' heart practically swells at that.
"And I, Thomas Levy, will be your commentator for the duration of this game! So — as the teams start to get ready —"
As the players stand across from each other, James catches Regulus Black's eye. He smiles serenely. Regulus scowls. To James' dismay, his nose looks — more or less — completely back to normal.
"Captains," says Madam Hooch, "shake hands."
March and Vanity do.
"Mount your brooms!" she says, holding the Quaffle under one arm. "Three ... two ... one ... !"
At the sound of her whistle, the balls and the players are off in a whoosh of air.
"And it's Slytherin with the Quaffle! Blimey, that Talkalot is fast," Levy is saying, as James zips through the air towards her.
Jayaraman bats a Bludger forward. James shifts his broom out of the way, watching it dive straight for Lucinda Talkalot. She narrowly misses it, but that split second is all he needs before he intercepts the Quaffle and makes for the hoops.
"And Potter's got the Quaffle! Brilliant teamwork demonstrated there by Jayaraman and Potter. And it's Potter going for the — oh. Bole slams into Potter but Potter manages to pass off the Quaffle to Byrne. Byrne saves the Quaffle!" Levy continues. "And it's Byrne heading straight for the hoops — she scores! Ten points to Gryffindor!"
The crowd goes wild as Gryffindor takes the first goal.
"And the Quaffle's in Witte's possession, off he goes flying to March — whoa, wait! What's going on at the other end of the pitch?"
James flies forward, seeing it for himself.
"Vanity's sending a revenge Bludger towards Byrne! There's Lomax of Gryffindor trying to get in on it and — blimey! Pucey's just blatched Byrne!"
The whistle sounds and Madam Hooch swoops up between them.
"Enough!" she shouts. "Penalty to Gryffindor for a deliberate attack on their Chaser!"
It's Shacklebolt who takes it, sending the Quaffle past Rukin.
"Twenty to zero for Gryffindor!" shouts Levy.
James flies towards Cliona.
"You all right?" he asks.
"Yeah," she says, shortly. "Fine."
"The Quaffle's back in Slytherin's possession; off Witte goes towards March. Oh! Nicely intercepted by Potter. There goes Potter, flying back across the pitch. Dodges that Bludger from Vanity! Pucey's got another one coming at him — and he loses it to Talkalot who seems to have appeared out of no where!"
James swears, swerving around again.
"And Shacklebolt's got the Quaffle again! Passes it to Byrne — intercepted by Bole who's just swerved right in front of her. Jayaraman's sent off a Bludger — oh, that's got to hurt!"
Bigust Bole gets a Bludger straight in the back of the head, which nearly knocks him off his broomstick. He drops the Quaffle, allowing James to dive straight for it, but just as he's about to head towards Wynter Rukin, Slytherin's Keeper, the whistle sounds again.
He whirls around, watching as Madam Hooch gives another penalty to Gryffindor for Regulus Black blurting Raquel Clayworth. Raquel shouts at him from her broom, and Regulus is shouting back.
James takes the penalty for her, scoring Gryffindor another 10 points as the Quaffle soars through the hoops before Rukin can intercept it.
"It's thirty to zero for Gryffindor!" Thomas Levy shouts cheerfully. "And Gryffindor's quickly in possession again!"
Witte's determined to take it off Shacklebolt, elbowing him in the face before flying off for the hoops, leaving him stunned and bloody.
"Oy, you — !"
It's the usually even-tempered Arlet Jayaraman who zips forward and pelts Witte with her beater's bat, before she starts to yell at him.
Madam Hooch blows her whistle loudly.
"What was that, Witte?" she shouts, exasperated. "Penalty to Gryffindor for cobbing! And penalty to Slytherin for an attack on their Chaser! There is no beating other players with your bat, Miss Jayaraman."
Shacklebolt wipes his nose with his sleeve, and flies to take the penalty. Distracted, with blood slowly dribbling down his chin, Rukin saves the Quaffle.
And Quentin March, equally distracted by Witte's dirty play, dives forward to save the hoops just a little too late, allowing Bole to score their first goal for Slytherin.
The game continues, with Gryffindor leading 90 points to Slytherin who has managed to come up with 40.
Still, it's difficult to feel discouraged, with adrenaline pumping through James' entire body, surging him forward. They're still leading by 50 points, and if they get the Snitch, the game is theirs. He spares a glance towards Clayworth, who has her dark eyes trained across the pitch, scouting it out for a glint of gold.
Close by, James briefly notes that Regulus Black is doing the same thing.
"And it's Slytherin with the Quaffle!"
James picks up the speed on his broom and heads back for the Quaffle, which has just passed him, handled by Witte who is red-faced and desperate for another goal.
James swoops up just as Cliona joins him, both trailing the Quaffle until Pucey shoots up and pulls at James' broomstick, keeping him back.
"Let go, you idiot!" James shouts.
Cliona still chases Witte across the pitch while James directs his broom upwards, hoping to lose Pucey's grip. Pucey hits him with his bat, forcing him to stop.
"It's over, Potter!" he says.
"You're not still sore over your Seeker's nose, are you?" James returns.
The whistle blows again.
"Penalty to Gryffindor for blagging! Pucey, what are you doing?" Hooch shrieks.
Gryffindor still leads 90 points to 40; in a fit of rage, James had sent the Quaffle soaring over the hoops.
The game goes on.
Five more penalties later, and no further points given to either team, Madam Hooch is practically beside herself with anger. It's been a little over two hours, and the crowds of students are still as enthusiastic as ever. But the teams are feeling the tensions rise as one tries to beat the other to goals.
"Pucey sends a Bludger after Potter! Potter's flying towards Rukin with the Quaffle. Lomax's there just in time to deflect that Bludger! Brilliant save, Lomax!" Levy continues. "And Potter goes in for the goal —"
James and Rukin meet eyes. Then he sends the Quaffle through the left-side hoop before Rukin can properly save it.
"And Potter scores!" cries Levy. The Gryffindors in the stands jump up and down, the scarlet banners waving just as enthusiastically.
James punches the air and grins, making a quick loop around the end of the pitch.
"The score is a hundred points to forty for Gryffindor! But where is the Snitch?"
As soon as Thomas Levy asks the question, Clayworth looks as though she's spotted it. She dives low, followed immediately by Regulus Black who seems to have cottoned on to the whereabouts as well.
"Vanity, Talkalot and Bole appear to be going after the Seeker," Levy says. "Vanity bats a Bludger in Clayworth's direction, but she's a nimble Seeker, that one. Narrowly misses it! Brilliant! And she's still going —"
James only vaguely hears Levy describing the chase between Clayworth and Regulus, his eyes trained on Witte as he attempts to intervene Shacklebolt's attempt to score. Pucey looks like he's about to throw his bat at Shacklebolt.
"Potter!" Shacklebolt calls out. The two of them make the exchange quickly, with one Chaser moving into the scoring area just as the other swoops out before either Slytherin can follow. James aims the Quaffle forward and is deflected by Rukin who catches it deftly.
Witte eases back, a smug expression on his face.
James lets out a curse.
"— and Regulus Black's got the Snitch!" There is a sudden shout of cheers from the green side of the stands. It's met equally with a loud chorus of 'boos' from the other side. "No, I have no idea how that happened, but there we have it. A hundred and fifty points for Slytherin, giving them a final score of a hundred and ninety points to a hundred for Gryffindor. Slytherin wins the Quidditch Cup!"
What?
James freezes on his broom, Levy's words echoing in his head.
'Regulus Black's got the Snitch!'
No. That can't be right.
They'd been in the lead. By 60 points, they were in the lead.
James turns his broom around, exchanging a shocked glance with Lomax.
Lomax shakes his head.
As the Slytherin players swoop in to congratulate their Seeker on winning them the Quidditch Cup, every last one of them making smug faces and jeering in bad taste at the Gryffindor team as they pass, the Gryffindor team gathers at the other end of the pitch.
They land, every last one of them looking solemn.
"Good game, team," says March with very little feeling.
"I can't believe it," says James, throwing his broom down. His eyes go to the Slytherin team, still in the air doing loop-de-loops and spinning circles, Regulus caught up in the centre. His arm is still raised and the golden Snitch shimmers in the sunlight. "I can't believe we lost."
James thinks he's going to be sick.
But really, he just wants to hit something.
And the more time passes, the angrier he feels.
"I'm sorry." Raquel Clayworth has tears in her eyes. "I was too slow and they were all trying to intercept me and I couldn't handle it, and —"
"It's not your fault, Raquel," says Cliona. She puts her arm around the other girl. "We all did our very best."
"Yeah, but it wasn't enough, was it?" Lomax sighs loudly. He kicks at the grass and swears.
Arlet sighs, too. "No, it wasn't."
"They're going to be the smuggest set of bastards this school's seen," Lomax continues. "From now until the end of the year."
Some of the students have come down to see the Gryffindor team. James doesn't look up to see whether the Marauders are amongst them.
James honestly doesn't feel like seeing anyone.
He knows it's not Raquel's fault either, but right now he wants to be angry at someone. Before he can snap at her, he storms off towards the changing rooms, leaving the rest of his teammates behind.
___
e n d n o t e s
fouls
blagging - seizing a part of an opponent's broom to slow or hinder the player
blatching - flying with the intent to collide into another player
blurting - locking opponent's broom handle with intent to steer opponent off course
cobbing - when a player uses their elbows against their opponents
players
Gryffindor Keeper: Quentin March (Captain)
Gryffindor Chasers: James Potter, Cliona Byrne, Eugene Shacklebolt
Gryffindor Beaters: Aurelius Lomax, Arlet Jayaraman
Gryffindor Seeker: Raquel Clayworth
Slytherin Keeper: Wynter Rukin
Slytherin Chasers: Bigust Bole, Soren Witte, Lucinda Talkalot
Slytherin Beaters: Emma Vanity (Captain), Gulliver Pucey
Slytherin Seeker: Regulus Black
score
→ initials of player; (G) = Gryffindor ; (S) = Slytherin
Gryffindor : Slytherin
10 : 0 - CB (G)
20 : 0 - ES (G) - penalty
30 : 0 - JP (G) - penalty
30 : 10 - BB (S) - penalty
[...]
90 : 40
100 : 40 - JP (G)
100 : 190 (150+40) - RB (S)
Hogwarts, Scotland
Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch
Quentin March has spent nearly all of breakfast gathering the team for a last-minute pep-talk. Aurelius Lomax insisted that they were going to be fine and that some of them had to eat before the big game, but it was Arlet Jayaraman who stood up and demanded that March take a moment to breathe before did something ridiculous like faint from hyperventilation. And, James had added, he ought to have a piece of toast, because it was particularly excellent that morning.
Minutes later, after washing down his piece of toast with orange juice, March disappears.
Arlet sighs. "I'd better go check up on him," she says, rolling her eyes. She disappears too.
After seeing his mates off, James and Cliona walk towards the pitch together, following their fellow teammates who all seem to be experiencing a mixture of nerves and excitement.
Today is a big day.
Today is the day Gryffindor is going to beat Slytherin for the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup.
"Team," March says, looking anxious but serious, as they file into the changing room, "we are going to give them everything we've got today. We've been practicing hard. All of the strategies — we've been over everything countless times, I reckon we can do it all with our eyes closed. We'll — what is it, Potter?"
James gets to his feet, his scarlet Gryffindor robes only half pulled on. "We're going to be brilliant," he reassures him. "And you've already given this exact pep-talk only half an hour ago."
Cliona and Clayworth snort quietly.
March turns his sharp gaze from one girl to the other. Raquel Clayworth quickly turns back to her gauntlets.
"Yes. Well." March looks flustered. "It doesn't hurt to remind you all of the importance of this match. This is my last year here, as you know. I enjoy every game that Gryffindor beats Slytherin, but this ... this one's a bit different. So, excuse me, Potter, for wanting to get our team a little excited."
James raises his hands, but he grins. "You're the Captain."
"Right. So, where was I? Oh, yes. With this — what now, Shacklebolt?"
"Sorry to interrupt, but —" He taps his watch. "It's time, March."
---
The Gryffindor team walk out onto the pitch, greeted immediately by the torrent of excited, cheering students packed into the stands. There are banners of red on one side, and banners of green on the other. Students are waving their arms and yelling cheers of 'GO GO GRYFFINDOR!' while others cheer for Slytherin's team.
James spots Sirius, Remus and Peter somewhere amongst them, near the front. His eyes go to Lily Evans not far from them, accompanied by Pennifold, Macdonald and Cadwallader.
To the right, the commentator stand is occupied by professors and Thomas Levy, who now shouts, "And here they come! The Gryffindor team: Potter, Byrne, Shacklebolt, Lomax, Jayaraman and Clayworth, led by their captain, March!"
The cheers, if possible, get louder.
James grins, resisting the urge to wave like a celebrity.
"And now — the Slytherins! Led by their captain, Vanity: Black, Pucey, Bole, Witte, Talkalot and Rukin. This is guaranteed to be a very intense match!"
There's another series of cheers alongside just as many 'boos'. James' heart practically swells at that.
"And I, Thomas Levy, will be your commentator for the duration of this game! So — as the teams start to get ready —"
As the players stand across from each other, James catches Regulus Black's eye. He smiles serenely. Regulus scowls. To James' dismay, his nose looks — more or less — completely back to normal.
"Captains," says Madam Hooch, "shake hands."
March and Vanity do.
"Mount your brooms!" she says, holding the Quaffle under one arm. "Three ... two ... one ... !"
At the sound of her whistle, the balls and the players are off in a whoosh of air.
"And it's Slytherin with the Quaffle! Blimey, that Talkalot is fast," Levy is saying, as James zips through the air towards her.
Jayaraman bats a Bludger forward. James shifts his broom out of the way, watching it dive straight for Lucinda Talkalot. She narrowly misses it, but that split second is all he needs before he intercepts the Quaffle and makes for the hoops.
"And Potter's got the Quaffle! Brilliant teamwork demonstrated there by Jayaraman and Potter. And it's Potter going for the — oh. Bole slams into Potter but Potter manages to pass off the Quaffle to Byrne. Byrne saves the Quaffle!" Levy continues. "And it's Byrne heading straight for the hoops — she scores! Ten points to Gryffindor!"
The crowd goes wild as Gryffindor takes the first goal.
"And the Quaffle's in Witte's possession, off he goes flying to March — whoa, wait! What's going on at the other end of the pitch?"
James flies forward, seeing it for himself.
"Vanity's sending a revenge Bludger towards Byrne! There's Lomax of Gryffindor trying to get in on it and — blimey! Pucey's just blatched Byrne!"
The whistle sounds and Madam Hooch swoops up between them.
"Enough!" she shouts. "Penalty to Gryffindor for a deliberate attack on their Chaser!"
It's Shacklebolt who takes it, sending the Quaffle past Rukin.
"Twenty to zero for Gryffindor!" shouts Levy.
James flies towards Cliona.
"You all right?" he asks.
"Yeah," she says, shortly. "Fine."
"The Quaffle's back in Slytherin's possession; off Witte goes towards March. Oh! Nicely intercepted by Potter. There goes Potter, flying back across the pitch. Dodges that Bludger from Vanity! Pucey's got another one coming at him — and he loses it to Talkalot who seems to have appeared out of no where!"
James swears, swerving around again.
"And Shacklebolt's got the Quaffle again! Passes it to Byrne — intercepted by Bole who's just swerved right in front of her. Jayaraman's sent off a Bludger — oh, that's got to hurt!"
Bigust Bole gets a Bludger straight in the back of the head, which nearly knocks him off his broomstick. He drops the Quaffle, allowing James to dive straight for it, but just as he's about to head towards Wynter Rukin, Slytherin's Keeper, the whistle sounds again.
He whirls around, watching as Madam Hooch gives another penalty to Gryffindor for Regulus Black blurting Raquel Clayworth. Raquel shouts at him from her broom, and Regulus is shouting back.
James takes the penalty for her, scoring Gryffindor another 10 points as the Quaffle soars through the hoops before Rukin can intercept it.
"It's thirty to zero for Gryffindor!" Thomas Levy shouts cheerfully. "And Gryffindor's quickly in possession again!"
Witte's determined to take it off Shacklebolt, elbowing him in the face before flying off for the hoops, leaving him stunned and bloody.
"Oy, you — !"
It's the usually even-tempered Arlet Jayaraman who zips forward and pelts Witte with her beater's bat, before she starts to yell at him.
Madam Hooch blows her whistle loudly.
"What was that, Witte?" she shouts, exasperated. "Penalty to Gryffindor for cobbing! And penalty to Slytherin for an attack on their Chaser! There is no beating other players with your bat, Miss Jayaraman."
Shacklebolt wipes his nose with his sleeve, and flies to take the penalty. Distracted, with blood slowly dribbling down his chin, Rukin saves the Quaffle.
And Quentin March, equally distracted by Witte's dirty play, dives forward to save the hoops just a little too late, allowing Bole to score their first goal for Slytherin.
The game continues, with Gryffindor leading 90 points to Slytherin who has managed to come up with 40.
Still, it's difficult to feel discouraged, with adrenaline pumping through James' entire body, surging him forward. They're still leading by 50 points, and if they get the Snitch, the game is theirs. He spares a glance towards Clayworth, who has her dark eyes trained across the pitch, scouting it out for a glint of gold.
Close by, James briefly notes that Regulus Black is doing the same thing.
"And it's Slytherin with the Quaffle!"
James picks up the speed on his broom and heads back for the Quaffle, which has just passed him, handled by Witte who is red-faced and desperate for another goal.
James swoops up just as Cliona joins him, both trailing the Quaffle until Pucey shoots up and pulls at James' broomstick, keeping him back.
"Let go, you idiot!" James shouts.
Cliona still chases Witte across the pitch while James directs his broom upwards, hoping to lose Pucey's grip. Pucey hits him with his bat, forcing him to stop.
"It's over, Potter!" he says.
"You're not still sore over your Seeker's nose, are you?" James returns.
The whistle blows again.
"Penalty to Gryffindor for blagging! Pucey, what are you doing?" Hooch shrieks.
Gryffindor still leads 90 points to 40; in a fit of rage, James had sent the Quaffle soaring over the hoops.
The game goes on.
Five more penalties later, and no further points given to either team, Madam Hooch is practically beside herself with anger. It's been a little over two hours, and the crowds of students are still as enthusiastic as ever. But the teams are feeling the tensions rise as one tries to beat the other to goals.
"Pucey sends a Bludger after Potter! Potter's flying towards Rukin with the Quaffle. Lomax's there just in time to deflect that Bludger! Brilliant save, Lomax!" Levy continues. "And Potter goes in for the goal —"
James and Rukin meet eyes. Then he sends the Quaffle through the left-side hoop before Rukin can properly save it.
"And Potter scores!" cries Levy. The Gryffindors in the stands jump up and down, the scarlet banners waving just as enthusiastically.
James punches the air and grins, making a quick loop around the end of the pitch.
"The score is a hundred points to forty for Gryffindor! But where is the Snitch?"
As soon as Thomas Levy asks the question, Clayworth looks as though she's spotted it. She dives low, followed immediately by Regulus Black who seems to have cottoned on to the whereabouts as well.
"Vanity, Talkalot and Bole appear to be going after the Seeker," Levy says. "Vanity bats a Bludger in Clayworth's direction, but she's a nimble Seeker, that one. Narrowly misses it! Brilliant! And she's still going —"
James only vaguely hears Levy describing the chase between Clayworth and Regulus, his eyes trained on Witte as he attempts to intervene Shacklebolt's attempt to score. Pucey looks like he's about to throw his bat at Shacklebolt.
"Potter!" Shacklebolt calls out. The two of them make the exchange quickly, with one Chaser moving into the scoring area just as the other swoops out before either Slytherin can follow. James aims the Quaffle forward and is deflected by Rukin who catches it deftly.
Witte eases back, a smug expression on his face.
James lets out a curse.
"— and Regulus Black's got the Snitch!" There is a sudden shout of cheers from the green side of the stands. It's met equally with a loud chorus of 'boos' from the other side. "No, I have no idea how that happened, but there we have it. A hundred and fifty points for Slytherin, giving them a final score of a hundred and ninety points to a hundred for Gryffindor. Slytherin wins the Quidditch Cup!"
What?
James freezes on his broom, Levy's words echoing in his head.
'Regulus Black's got the Snitch!'
No. That can't be right.
They'd been in the lead. By 60 points, they were in the lead.
James turns his broom around, exchanging a shocked glance with Lomax.
Lomax shakes his head.
As the Slytherin players swoop in to congratulate their Seeker on winning them the Quidditch Cup, every last one of them making smug faces and jeering in bad taste at the Gryffindor team as they pass, the Gryffindor team gathers at the other end of the pitch.
They land, every last one of them looking solemn.
"Good game, team," says March with very little feeling.
"I can't believe it," says James, throwing his broom down. His eyes go to the Slytherin team, still in the air doing loop-de-loops and spinning circles, Regulus caught up in the centre. His arm is still raised and the golden Snitch shimmers in the sunlight. "I can't believe we lost."
James thinks he's going to be sick.
But really, he just wants to hit something.
And the more time passes, the angrier he feels.
"I'm sorry." Raquel Clayworth has tears in her eyes. "I was too slow and they were all trying to intercept me and I couldn't handle it, and —"
"It's not your fault, Raquel," says Cliona. She puts her arm around the other girl. "We all did our very best."
"Yeah, but it wasn't enough, was it?" Lomax sighs loudly. He kicks at the grass and swears.
Arlet sighs, too. "No, it wasn't."
"They're going to be the smuggest set of bastards this school's seen," Lomax continues. "From now until the end of the year."
Some of the students have come down to see the Gryffindor team. James doesn't look up to see whether the Marauders are amongst them.
James honestly doesn't feel like seeing anyone.
He knows it's not Raquel's fault either, but right now he wants to be angry at someone. Before he can snap at her, he storms off towards the changing rooms, leaving the rest of his teammates behind.
___
e n d n o t e s
fouls
blagging - seizing a part of an opponent's broom to slow or hinder the player
blatching - flying with the intent to collide into another player
blurting - locking opponent's broom handle with intent to steer opponent off course
cobbing - when a player uses their elbows against their opponents
players
Gryffindor Keeper: Quentin March (Captain)
Gryffindor Chasers: James Potter, Cliona Byrne, Eugene Shacklebolt
Gryffindor Beaters: Aurelius Lomax, Arlet Jayaraman
Gryffindor Seeker: Raquel Clayworth
Slytherin Keeper: Wynter Rukin
Slytherin Chasers: Bigust Bole, Soren Witte, Lucinda Talkalot
Slytherin Beaters: Emma Vanity (Captain), Gulliver Pucey
Slytherin Seeker: Regulus Black
score
→ initials of player; (G) = Gryffindor ; (S) = Slytherin
Gryffindor : Slytherin
10 : 0 - CB (G)
20 : 0 - ES (G) - penalty
30 : 0 - JP (G) - penalty
30 : 10 - BB (S) - penalty
[...]
90 : 40
100 : 40 - JP (G)
100 : 190 (150+40) - RB (S)