(no subject)
Title: The Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad
Author: ficliously
Rating: R for some brief language, but the content is more like P-13
Summary: In an attempt to promote Inter-house unity, Dumbledore forms the Hogwarts Inter-house Cheerleading Squad. Mayhem ensues.
Warnings: Purple spandex, pompoms, some poor attempts at innuendo
Notes: This was my entry for hp_funnyfest back in August. I'm not sure how happy I am with the ending, but I tried to keep it funny throughout...
Harry woke with a start on the first Saturday morning of October and wondered why there was a pack of butterflies fluttering around in the pit of his stomach. He was interrupted in his musings by a pillow slung straight at his face.
"Oy! Harry! Up and at 'em!"
"Ow," He rubbed his nose and lobbed the pillow back at Seamus. "Bloody prat."
"Top o' the Morning to you!" Seamus cried cheerily, laying his already thick accent on to the point of inarticulation. He paused for second, a maniacal grin plastered all over his face. Harry gazed up at him blearily and felt his insides freeze. Three seconds later he forgot about metaphors as some literal, icy cold assaulted his body. This cold had no time for soft shit like figurative language. This cold was not fucking around. The early-morning chill prodded, abused, molested, and otherwise had its way with Harry's poor frame as Seamus stripped first Harry's then Ron's blankets from their beds. "Come on lazy pricks, need you awake so you can pound Slytherin into the ground for us." Harry lay there shivering, still too tired to move, and cursed the new autumn crispness in the air, Slytherin, Quidditch, and mostly Seamus and his great fat face.
"Why you so 'wake?" Ron mumbled, pawing at his eyes as he stumbled towards the bathroom.
"Because, lads," Seamus said, rubbing his hands together excitedly, "Today is the first time you will ever witness the wondrous feats of the newly-established Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad!"
"What?" Harry squawked, and nearly fell out of bed. "What?" He scrambled for his glasses on the bedside table and shoved them on to discover Seamus standing in the center of the dormitory, feet planted, hands on his hips, chest stuck out like Superman. "What in bloody fuck are you wearing?"
"Our uniform." Seamus' tone dripped pride, and made Harry kind of want to vomit.
"It's rather tight, isn't it?" Neville commented, peering anxiously at the purple spandex that looked like it was probably painted onto Seamus' body. There were no visible seams.
"Quite," Dean agreed heartily. Harry wasn't sure his tone was quite correct for the subject matter. Seamus glowed.
Ron padded back into the room and screamed. "What the FUCK are you WEARING?!"
"My uniform," Seamus informed him haughtily. "Now-ah get up, Ron-" Ron was huddled on the floor with his arms around his head. Seamus sniffed and continued, "I'm hungry."
"Me too," Dean murmured.
"We really should get down to breakfast. You lads need food in your stomachs, or you’ll crash and burn today-literally!" He took a moment to appreciate his own wit, and then made for the door. "See you down there!" He performed a little parting shimmy that utilized far too many rippling muscles beneath the spandex, and was gone.
"Wait for me!" Dean yelled, scrambling out of bed and clattering down towards the common room.
The dormitory was left in silence.
Neville, in a heroic effort not to ponder the color purple, thought resolutely of his grandmother. Surely she didn't even know what spandex was, had never had any reason to know. She had certainly never engaged in any activities that might have called for it. ...But then, how had Neville come to be? His grandmother, at some point in her life, must have had-
Harry turned at a high-pitched squeak from the corner. "Neville?" Neville was now no more than a shaking pile of blankets on his bed. Harry sighed and turned back to Ron. "He's gone. You can look now."
"What the fuck was he wearing?!" Ron inquired as he unwound his arms from about his head.
"His uniform," Harry replied grimly. "He's right about the food thing though- we really need some breakfast or we'll do crap in the game today."
"I think I've lost my appetite after that. Forever."
"Well, tough. We're going against Slytherin and I need you in top form." Harry raised his voice a bit and said kindly, "We're going down to the Great Hall now, Neville."
Neville murmured, "my brain is melting", which Harry took to mean he'd join them in a minute.
"Right." Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was sure to be an ordeal of a match. "Let's go."
**
Ron had recovered sufficiently on the walk down to breakfast to nick Hermione's toast as he slid onto the bench next to her. He arranged his robes meticulously, careful to make sure they're bodies were completely not touching at all points. Hermione didn't notice. She was gazing, slack-jawed, down the table.
"Uh, hi," Harry offered from his seat opposite.
"Oy, 'Mione," Ron said through a mouthful of toast, and waved a hand in front of her face. "What's she looking at?" His eyes narrowed and a flush pinked his ears as he followed her line of sight. "Bloody Seamus," he muttered, and stared at the Pumpkin Juice as if he could incinerate it by force of will.
"Hermione?" Harry asked. No response. Harry thought for a second. "Hermione, the library is burning down."
"What?" Hermione's head snapped to. "Oh, good morning Harry." Her face flushed and she busied herself buttering a new piece of toast. "Interesting fashions going around lately," she said to the book propped up against her goblet.
"No, that's the new Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad's uniform," Ginny informed her, leaning in from Harry's left. "See the big H on his chest?" Hermione nodded emphatically and Ron glowered. "Causing quite a stir, too..." Ginny nodded at the other House tables. Harry suddenly noticed the hush of whispering around him. He took a proper look at the rest of the school's populace for the first time that morning. There were numerous Hermione-esque glazed eyes and packs of giggling girls-and boys, he realized. Harry searched the Hall and found several other purple-spandexed students at each table. It seemed the Squad was coed as well as school-wide.
"Hey," Ron said suddenly. "Lav and Parvati don't even like Quidditch!"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Have you not met Lavendar and Parvati? It's not about the Quidditch, it's about the pompoms."
"Yeah," Ron said vaguely, "those are some pompoms..." Hermione snapped her book shut with a vengeance.
"Oh look," she said, pointing towards the Slytherin table. Ron's gaze followed her finger. "Millicent Bulstrode is on the team as well."
"Hermione!" Ron moaned, and buried his head in his arms for the second time that morning. "Why did you make me look?! Now I've got the image of Millicent Bulstrode in spandex burned into my brain forever!" Hermione smiled cooly.
"I think it's nice. She's taking an interest in school spirit."
"I'm all for school spirit, it's the post-traumatic stress disorder I'm worried about," Ron mumbled from the protection of his arms.
"Why purple?" Harry wondered aloud.
"Neutral color," Ginny explained, reaching for the eggs. "You know, the whole inter-house unity thing."
"Right," Harry murmured, watching in fascination as Pansy Parkinson flounced into the room, flaunting her new uniform and smiling smugly. It took a few seconds for Harry to realize that scrap of fabric about her waist must be her skirt. "I wonder how that's working out."
"Hey, Finnegan," Pansy called, and Gryffindor table held its collective breath as she approached and raised a hand. "Looking good," she said, and Seamus reached up for a high-five.
Harry blinked quietly as Pansy made her way to her own house table. "Wow."
"Yup," Ginny said, busy spreading marmalade on her bagel. "They've even got a mascot." She waved her knife toward the Ravenclaw table.
"Oh, Luna," Hermione said sadly. Luna's giant lion hat was making a comeback, but this time it was not alone. In order to honor all of the houses Luna had tacked on a snake's tail, as well as two scaly bird's feet that hung down around her ears like the flaps on a winter hat. She had somehow transfigured the lion's nose into a badger snout, and the whole thing radiated a soft glow, each house's color tinting the air around it for a few seconds, one after another. Luna saw them looking and waved dreamily, wandering over.
"Isn't it lovely?" she said absently. "I've improved it." She performed a little flick of her wand and the hat hissed at them. "It still roars, and caws, as well. I wasn't sure what sound a badger makes, but I'm sure the Hufflepuffs will understand." She favored the Hufflepuff table with a soft smile and several of them choked in terror.
"That's really... nice, Luna," Harry said, and Luna beamed before drifting away.
"Bonkers, that one," Ron remarked, considerably cheered. "Completely mad."
"Sh!" Hermione hissed, and hit Ron harder than was necessary on the arm.
"Ow! Hermione! What-?" Hermione only pointed towards the professor's table.
Harry turned to see Dumbledore smiling faintly. All around him the whispers were dying down as the hall came to attention.
"Good morning," Dumbledore began, and twinkled at them. "Today marks a greatly-anticipated occasion: the first Quidditch game of the school year!" There were a few low cheers, and Harry could see Pansy shaking her pompoms out of the corner of his eye. Malfoy, seated between her and a large purple blob, looked faintly miffed. What, wait? Harry looked again. It was Crabbe. Crabbe was the large purple blob. And there were TWO OF THEM.
"OHMYGOD." Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he gaped. Apparently he'd noticed as well.
"SH!" Hermione hit Ron again. He was too busy being mortified to care.
"...versus Slytherin. The game with take place on the Quidditch pitch directly after breakfast." Dumbledore paused, and peered around at his audience. He seemed entirely too amused. "Now. I'm sure you are all curious about the several uniquely-attired students amongst us."
Ernie MacMillan gave a loud "HUZZAH!" from the Hufflepuff table, and Harry sighed in resignation.
"Ernie, too?"
"I'm afraid so, Harry," Hermione said, and patted his hand.
Dumbledore was talking again. Harry shook his head and tried to pay attention. "It is with great satisfaction that I announce the formation of the first ever Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad!" Applause broke out around the hall. Several students were clapping very enthusiastically, and Harry noticed Hannah Abbott blushing and trying to shrink into her purple-clad self. At the Ravenclaw table Michael Corner stood up and performed a shimmying dance to laughs and more applause. Next to Harry Ginny gave a loud wolf-whistle.
"Ginny!" Ron stared at her, aghast.
Ginny shrugged. "Someone needed to, seeing as how the twins have left and all." Ron blinked. "Hermione, make him shut his mouth." Hermione thumped him. Ron didn't even bother to complain this time.
"Where am I?" he murmured. "This can't be Hogwarts..."
Hermione hid a smile with her hand. "Listen, he's not done."
"The purpose of this wonderful new addition to Hogwarts' Quidditch tradition is, of course, to add fun to the games! It will also hopefully draw students together that perhaps would not normally interact, as it contains representatives from all houses. I believe this is essential, especially in light of recent events." Dumbledore's face grew solemn and Harry felt the silence around him shift. More than a few students had felt the impact of the war; everyone knew at least one person dead or missing, and some parents hadn't allowed their children back to Hogwarts at all. Tensions seemed to mount everyday within the school. Allegiances were being made, half of them secret, and it was growing harder to know who to trust anymore.
Harry glanced back up at Dumbledore, who was staring intensely at them all, and thought that maybe he knew what he was doing after all; a little silliness would come as a relief right now.
As he watched, Dumbledore's eyes crinkled up in a smile again. "As you can see, their are four members from each house, two girls and two boys. Sixteen members in all. Perhaps, depending on how the squad feels, more members shall be added. In that case tryouts would, of course, be school-wide. More information will be available if and when they become necessary. In the meantime, I have taken up far too much of your morning. Please, finish your meal. And to both teams-" here he nodded respectfully to both the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables-- "good luck."
Conversation resumed as Dumbledore took his seat.
"You know, you really should eat," Ginny said, taking Harry's plate and piling on some bacon.
"I know, I'm just nervous. I'm not sure my stomach will cooperate." He took his plate back and stared at it sadly.
"Relax, mate," Ron said. "You've never lost to Slytherin before. This game is in the bag."
"I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Weasel."
Ron's ears went bright red. "Why don't you just sod off, Malfoy?"
Malfoy sneered. "Too nervous to eat, Pothead? Aw, look at the little Weaselette, quivering for a scrap of Scarhead's attention. I bet you're going to take whatever he doesn't eat and put it in your shrine, aren't you? So you and all the rest of Potter's Fan Club can adore his famous ugly face even more."
"Shove OFF!" Harry found himself on his feet with a hand twisted in the front of Malfoy's robes. He was breathing hard and it was taking all of his strength to not smash Malfoy's pointy nose right through the back of his head.
Hermione glanced to the head of the hall, where Snape appeared to be watching the proceedings with interest. "Careful Harry," she cautioned. "He's not worth it."
"Yes, careful Harry," Malfoy mocked, his lip curling. "Wouldn't want to get in trouble before the first game of the year, would we?"
Harry blinked, and dropped his handful. Malfoy brushed himself down haughtily and sniffed. "Good luck at the game, Potter. You'll need it." Harry didn't trust himself to respond.
Ginny did it for him. "How does it feel to have poufs for best friends?" she asked, grinning up at him. "Does it hurt that they chose spandex over you?"
Malfoy looked startled, but recovered quickly. "Oh, so it speaks! I thought you hadn't learned yet."
"Shut up about my sister, you prick!" Ron was had gained his feet as well. Hermione looked worried.
"Look, it's getting kind of late. You'd better get down to the pitch." Harry looked around and realized she was right; the hall was nearly half empty now, as students trickled out towards the grounds.
"See you later, Boy who Blinked. And Weasel." Malfoy sneered one last time for good measure and disappeared into the crowd, headed for the two purple monoliths standing by the door.
"I really hate the git," Ron muttered.
“I would have thought Zabini would join the squad before Crabbe and Goyle,” Hermione remarked thoughtfully, watching Malfoy go.
“Excuse me? What did you just say, you filthy mudblood?!” Blaise Zabini looked absolutely scandalized, stopped dead in his tracks on his way to the exit. “I would never, not EVER, join that group of dancers-gone-retarded! DO YOU HEAR ME?! NOT EVER!” He glowered down at Hermione, who didn’t manage much more than a dazed silence.
“He helped train us though,” Millicent Bulstrode chipped in as she lumbered past. “Knows all about this stuff. Spirit fingers, you know. We Slytherins have got the best on the team.” She glowed (as much as Millicent Bulstrode really could glow-it was more of a dull sheen) and Zabini looked like an animal trapped.
“I-uh-” he stuttered, as the Gryffindor table continued to be quietly perplexed. “Of course I didn’t- I’d never-”
“He’s surprisingly flexible, too, eh, Blaisy?” Millicent grinned toothily and elbowed Zabini rather hard in the ribs. He looked as if he might faint.
There was a beat as Blaise was scandalized, the Gryffindors astonished, and Millicent pleased with herself. Eventually, Pansy sauntered up and threw an arm about Millicent’s shoulders. “Come along, cherubs. Can’t be late for our first match ever, can we, Millie?” She grinned seductively at the Gryffindors. “We’ll just be going then,” she purred, and steered Millicent away, Zabini trailing behind, looking ashamed and bewildered. As they reached the exit, Pansy looked back over her shoulder with half-closed eyes, and rolled her hips slowly. Back at the table, Ron’s face flushed down to his neck.
“Well that was... uh...” Hermione was, for once, at a complete loss for words.
Ginny was the first to recover. “Right well, always thought there was something funny about that Zabini bloke. Anyway-shall we be going?”
***
Ten minutes later, they were outside and Harry felt like he was probably going to throw up now.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, too,” Ginny was saying to Seamus. “I’d never call you a pouf! I was just trying to piss him off, you know Malfoy, he’s a prejudiced git. I’ve honestly got nothing against it, I’m happy for you, whatever your lifestyle choices.”
“Don’t worry about it, Gin,” Seamus assured her. “I won’t let an arse like Malfoy get me excited.” Dean, a few steps behind, look rather relieved.
“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione looked alarmed. “You’ve gone all green!”
“Yeah,” Harry said, swallowing. “Yeah, I’m all right. Just... I knew the bacon wasn’t a good idea.” Ginny frowned.
***
At the locker rooms, Harry, Ron, and Ginny said goodbye to Hermione. Once the team was changed and ready for the game, Harry called them together to have a pre-game pep talk.
“I haven’t got much to say,” he began. “First game of the year and all that rot.” There were a few appreciative laughs from the team. “See, the thing is...” Harry looked at them all and felt a grin split his face. “Let’s absolutely destroy Slytherin!” The cheers and whoops from his teammates washed over him, and the nausea of a few minutes before disappeared. He felt comfortable in his Quidditch robes, and hefted the familiar weight of his firebolt onto his shoulder as the Gryffindor Quidditch team made its way out to the pitch.
***
“Captains, shake hands!”
Harry stepped forward and clenched his fist around Malfoy’s creepily long-fingered hand. They shook once, stiffly, and stepped back as quickly as possible.
“Take your positions!” Madam Hooch mounted her own broom, ready to take off. “On my whistle. Three-Two-ONE!” The whistle screamed as Harry pushed off, soaring into the air. The ground fell away and any sense of nervousness went with it. He leveled off just slightly higher than the top of the stands and began peering around for the tiny, fluttering gold ball.
“GIMMIE AN S!” Harry jerked around and stared hard at the ground.
“Gimmie an L!” Susan Bones crowed at the crowd, shaking her pompoms wildly above her head and gyrating her hips.
“L!” The rest of the squad echoed, in rows behind her, bending at the hip and clapping their hands once after each letter.
“Ohmygosh, look! The Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad in action!” Harry stared at the stands. Colin? Colin was doing the commentary? Talk about a plan C. He pitied Mcgonnagle, who’s jaw was clenched so tight he could see the tendons from here.
“SLYTHERIN!” Susan cried triumphantly, and the crowd went wild. Meanwhile, Ron made an incredible save, hanging in midair with one ankle wrapped around his broom and arms flailing wildly. It was ignored. Instead, Colin gushed about the lovely uniforms, designed, of course, by his baby brother, Dennis. As Harry watched in fascination, Dennis scrambled up to the podium, tripping over a scroll longer than he was tall, and began to read his Thank You speech.
Harry shook his head and tried to concentrate. Snitch, snitch. He was looking for the snitch.
He was distracted again as Colin screeched, “Dennis, it’s almost your cue! Get down there!” and shoved his brother away from the commentary podium. Dennis practically flew down the stairs towards the pitch. Cue? Harry thought.
And then Anthony Goldstein did a somersault (Anthony Goldstein? SOMERSAULT? Harry’s brain reeled) and screamed, “PYRAMID!” and as Harry watched, the HICS formed a human pyramid in three seconds flat.
Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent, and Ernie all barreled to the center, contracting and settling together to become four human boulders. Michael Corner pulled a face before curling up gracefully next to them. They looked briefly like a small rock wall. Then Seamus was heaving himself onto Michael's back, taking care to stomp on a particularly weak section of spine. Susan boosted Anthony up on Crabbe and Goyle’s shoulders before leaping atop the wall herself. Justin Flinch-Fletchely was already in place on her other side. Two rows set, three to go (of course, it was all happening very quickly, too quickly for Harry to actually notice such minutiae-this is purely for narrative detail). Next, Parvati, Pansy, and Lavendar scrambled to position. Pansy smiled for England between two very disgruntled Gryffindors. Hannah and Mandy Brocklehurst somehow found their way up and last of all-little Dennis Creevy came running and leapt at the last moment. He seemed to hang in the air for far too long and then it was done. The pyramid was formed, all of them breaking their faces with smiling, and Luna’s absurd hat roared, squawked, and hissed triumphantly above the roar of the crowd.
Harry hung in the air in disbelief and watched Anthony take a great puff of his inhaler, all the while apparently still managing to keep on all fours AND smile.
“Harry!” Ginny screamed as she sped by. “Watch out!”
“Wha-?” And then he spotted the oncoming goal pole. Swerving to avoid collision, Harry was astounded. He had been distracted from flying. Nothing could distract him from flying.
“I said BRR-” Pansy sang, shivering and clutching at her arms with her pompoms comically. “It’s COLD in here!”
“There must be some GRYFFIES in the ATMOSPHERE!” The whole squad chorused (Gryffies? Harry thought indignantly).
“I said BRR-” Pansy began again, and this time she shook her whole body, including her ample posterior, as she shivered. Harry stared. He was distracted.
“Quit eyeing up my girlfriend, Potter!” Malfoy was suddenly there, throwing a halfhearted punch in Harry’s direction.
Harry dodged easily. “Girlfriend?” he scoffed. “Is that why I heard she’s sleeping her way through the Hufflepuff team? Not getting enough satisfaction at home?”
“HUFFLEPUFFS?” Malfoy screeched. He looked a little green. “How DARE you?!”
“You know I’d love to chat, Malfoy,” Harry said, dodging another pale, flailing fist, “but can we do this later? I’ve got a Quidditch match to win.” And with that he was off, following the flicker of gold he’d just noticed hovering above the Ravenclaw stands. He didn’t have to look back to know that Malfoy was only seconds away. He could feel the tail of wind spinning out behind him, and grinned fiercely as he imagined what that must be doing to Malfoy’s precious hair.
“Oh my, it seems as if Malfoy has actually started chasing Harry around the field!” Colin looked delighted. “Speaking of Malfoy, I do hope he won’t be too upset about that hair.” Harry almost laughed out loud as he heard a howl of rage from just behind his left foot. He thought about kicking out at the ugly prat’s face, but put on a burst of speed instead. The snitch was beginning to drift.
“This is the most intense game of tag I’ve ever see-”
Suddenly Colin’s voice cut out, replaced by small scuffling noises, grunts, and a hiss of “You stupid boy, give that here!” A few seconds later, Minerva Mcgonnagle said smoothly, “And it appears that Potter has spotted the snitch.”
The crowd went wild, which was odd, considering the squad was taking a break, and Harry realized they were cheering for him.
The snitch had veered off towards the Slytherin goal posts and Harry followed, flattening his torso against the broom handle and blinking tears from his eyes as the wind whipped past. His world had become nothing but a gold ball and fluttering wings and if he could only stretch a little longer... He willed his arm to grow, he could feel the feathery wings mere centimeters beyond his reach... Just a few seconds now, and then--
“OOPH!” Harry’s vision faded and his head was splitting in half with pain. The broom slipped from his fingers, and Harry fell away into unconsciousness.
**
“Harry? Harry, dear, are you all right?” He heard her as if from a very long distance away. “Wake up, Harry, oh, wake up!”
His eyes slit open. The glare of the sun hurt his head, which was throbbing somewhere behind his right ear. “’Mione?” Everything was a little blurry, and he groaned as he felt a lump beginning under his hair. “Bloody bludgers.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Hermione looked very relieved. Her smile wavered when he winced. “Here, let me take care of that.” She reached back gingerly and touched her wand to the lump on his skull. A few muttered words later and Harry sighed gratefully. “Thanks, Hermione,” he said, smiling. That was when he noticed all the faces peering over her shoulder. “I’m all right,” he said loudly.
“Potter has thankfully recovered after a well-aimed bludger by Slytherin’s beater, Damien Grittings,” Mcgonnagle reported.
Harry pulled himself to his feet, and searched around for his broom. He had apparently landed in the stands when he passed out, which was lucky. He didn’t relish the thought of falling from a broom twenty feet in the air to the pitch.
“The snitch, on the other hand...” Mcgonnagle continued.
“The snitch!” Harry gasped, forgetting his broom and staring hard at the sky. “Malfoy didn’t-?”
“Relax, Harry,” Ginny said, handing him his broom.
“Ginny? Why aren’t you in the air?”
Ginny smiled to him and simply pointed behind him. Harry turned to find himself staring at a large lion with a snake’s tail.
“Luna?” He asked, nonplussed.
“The Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Team’s mascot has apparently swallowed the snitch.” Mcgonnagle sounded anything but pleased.
“Luna, you ate the SNITCH?!” Harry roared. He was fine with her normal craziness as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, but she couldn’t be allowed to just go around eating snitches and ruining other people’s quidditch games all the time. It wasn’t right!
“No, Harry, don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny laughed. “The hat ate it!” Luna hefted the hat, which Harry imagined looked rather pleased with itself, and grinned at him cheerily.
“Well...” Harry sagged, at a loss. “Well... get it out! Make it spit it up or something!”
“Can’t,” Luna said, as the hat at her side continued to quietly radiate house colors.
“That means the game isn’t over, you stupid, crazy bat!” Malfoy stomped up the stands towards them looking quite a mess. His hair was all out of order and his normally deathly pale complexion turned ruddy with rage.
“He’s right,” Harry confirmed, slightly bemused. He wasn’t used to agreeing with Malfoy. “The game ends when a seeker catches the snitch. But now we can’t, so... so it can’t end.”
“Well if there is no snitch to catch, that means the game isn’t even being played correctly anymore,” Hermione mused. “So doesn’t that just forfeit the whole game? I mean, without the snitch, there is no game.”
“You are, as usual, quite correct, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore remarked softly. Harry started; he hadn’t noticed the Headmaster’s presence. “There is nothing for it but to declare the match a draw.”
“No!” Harry and Malfoy yelled simultaneously, followed by twin looks of surprise.
“You can’t call off the game, sir,” Harry pleaded, recovering first, “Not the first match of the year!”
“A draw is as good as a loss, and I will not lose to him!” Malfoy shrieked.
Harry paused and peered at Malfoy. “But... you do all the time.”
“Shut up, Potter! That's only because you cheat!”
“You’re the cheater! You’re the Slytherin!”
“At least I’m not a bloody Gryffindor! You’re all stupid and red makes me sick. Besides, I was winning before you went and swooned!”
“I did not swoon, I was hit with a bludger, you great prat!”
“I’m not a prat, git!”
“Enough,” Dumbledore said, a hint of steel in his soft voice. Both boys came to attention, Harry red and Malfoy glowering. “The game is a draw.”
“But, sir-”
“No buts, Harry. There is no other option. Besides, what better way to promote inter-house unity than to eliminate the competition, at least for the moment?”
“But it’s quidditch,” Harry said in despair. Dumbledore did not smile, but the wrinkles around his eyes returned.
“There will be other matches, Harry. Besides, it’s just a game.”
“But it’s my game,” Harry whispered as Dumbledore climbed the stands to inform Mcgonnagle of the game’s results. Hermione made a sympathetic sound and put an arm around his shoulder.
“Oh, get over yourself, Scarface. I would have won.” With that, Malfoy stalked away towards his own house mates.
“Who did win, anyway? I mean, without the points from the snitch?” Harry asked suddenly. Before Ginny could reply, Mcgonnagle interrupted.
“Given the unfortunate disappearance of the snitch, the match has been declared a draw. Players, please cease and... well, just come down!” The crowd groaned and Harry watched as his team mates returned to the ground. Suddenly he noticed that not everyone had finished just yet.
“Goooo-” he glanced down to the pitch, where the HICS were apparently still hard at work, a purple mass against the green lawn, pompoms waving on high. “-oooo GRYFFINDOR!”
“We did,” Ginny said, grinning.
Edit: Also! This fic is being hosted at reddwarfette's site, I believe. She might actually not yet have it up, but go check it out anyway, there's some really good stuff there. :)
Author: ficliously
Rating: R for some brief language, but the content is more like P-13
Summary: In an attempt to promote Inter-house unity, Dumbledore forms the Hogwarts Inter-house Cheerleading Squad. Mayhem ensues.
Warnings: Purple spandex, pompoms, some poor attempts at innuendo
Notes: This was my entry for hp_funnyfest back in August. I'm not sure how happy I am with the ending, but I tried to keep it funny throughout...
Harry woke with a start on the first Saturday morning of October and wondered why there was a pack of butterflies fluttering around in the pit of his stomach. He was interrupted in his musings by a pillow slung straight at his face.
"Oy! Harry! Up and at 'em!"
"Ow," He rubbed his nose and lobbed the pillow back at Seamus. "Bloody prat."
"Top o' the Morning to you!" Seamus cried cheerily, laying his already thick accent on to the point of inarticulation. He paused for second, a maniacal grin plastered all over his face. Harry gazed up at him blearily and felt his insides freeze. Three seconds later he forgot about metaphors as some literal, icy cold assaulted his body. This cold had no time for soft shit like figurative language. This cold was not fucking around. The early-morning chill prodded, abused, molested, and otherwise had its way with Harry's poor frame as Seamus stripped first Harry's then Ron's blankets from their beds. "Come on lazy pricks, need you awake so you can pound Slytherin into the ground for us." Harry lay there shivering, still too tired to move, and cursed the new autumn crispness in the air, Slytherin, Quidditch, and mostly Seamus and his great fat face.
"Why you so 'wake?" Ron mumbled, pawing at his eyes as he stumbled towards the bathroom.
"Because, lads," Seamus said, rubbing his hands together excitedly, "Today is the first time you will ever witness the wondrous feats of the newly-established Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad!"
"What?" Harry squawked, and nearly fell out of bed. "What?" He scrambled for his glasses on the bedside table and shoved them on to discover Seamus standing in the center of the dormitory, feet planted, hands on his hips, chest stuck out like Superman. "What in bloody fuck are you wearing?"
"Our uniform." Seamus' tone dripped pride, and made Harry kind of want to vomit.
"It's rather tight, isn't it?" Neville commented, peering anxiously at the purple spandex that looked like it was probably painted onto Seamus' body. There were no visible seams.
"Quite," Dean agreed heartily. Harry wasn't sure his tone was quite correct for the subject matter. Seamus glowed.
Ron padded back into the room and screamed. "What the FUCK are you WEARING?!"
"My uniform," Seamus informed him haughtily. "Now-ah get up, Ron-" Ron was huddled on the floor with his arms around his head. Seamus sniffed and continued, "I'm hungry."
"Me too," Dean murmured.
"We really should get down to breakfast. You lads need food in your stomachs, or you’ll crash and burn today-literally!" He took a moment to appreciate his own wit, and then made for the door. "See you down there!" He performed a little parting shimmy that utilized far too many rippling muscles beneath the spandex, and was gone.
"Wait for me!" Dean yelled, scrambling out of bed and clattering down towards the common room.
The dormitory was left in silence.
Neville, in a heroic effort not to ponder the color purple, thought resolutely of his grandmother. Surely she didn't even know what spandex was, had never had any reason to know. She had certainly never engaged in any activities that might have called for it. ...But then, how had Neville come to be? His grandmother, at some point in her life, must have had-
Harry turned at a high-pitched squeak from the corner. "Neville?" Neville was now no more than a shaking pile of blankets on his bed. Harry sighed and turned back to Ron. "He's gone. You can look now."
"What the fuck was he wearing?!" Ron inquired as he unwound his arms from about his head.
"His uniform," Harry replied grimly. "He's right about the food thing though- we really need some breakfast or we'll do crap in the game today."
"I think I've lost my appetite after that. Forever."
"Well, tough. We're going against Slytherin and I need you in top form." Harry raised his voice a bit and said kindly, "We're going down to the Great Hall now, Neville."
Neville murmured, "my brain is melting", which Harry took to mean he'd join them in a minute.
"Right." Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was sure to be an ordeal of a match. "Let's go."
**
Ron had recovered sufficiently on the walk down to breakfast to nick Hermione's toast as he slid onto the bench next to her. He arranged his robes meticulously, careful to make sure they're bodies were completely not touching at all points. Hermione didn't notice. She was gazing, slack-jawed, down the table.
"Uh, hi," Harry offered from his seat opposite.
"Oy, 'Mione," Ron said through a mouthful of toast, and waved a hand in front of her face. "What's she looking at?" His eyes narrowed and a flush pinked his ears as he followed her line of sight. "Bloody Seamus," he muttered, and stared at the Pumpkin Juice as if he could incinerate it by force of will.
"Hermione?" Harry asked. No response. Harry thought for a second. "Hermione, the library is burning down."
"What?" Hermione's head snapped to. "Oh, good morning Harry." Her face flushed and she busied herself buttering a new piece of toast. "Interesting fashions going around lately," she said to the book propped up against her goblet.
"No, that's the new Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad's uniform," Ginny informed her, leaning in from Harry's left. "See the big H on his chest?" Hermione nodded emphatically and Ron glowered. "Causing quite a stir, too..." Ginny nodded at the other House tables. Harry suddenly noticed the hush of whispering around him. He took a proper look at the rest of the school's populace for the first time that morning. There were numerous Hermione-esque glazed eyes and packs of giggling girls-and boys, he realized. Harry searched the Hall and found several other purple-spandexed students at each table. It seemed the Squad was coed as well as school-wide.
"Hey," Ron said suddenly. "Lav and Parvati don't even like Quidditch!"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Have you not met Lavendar and Parvati? It's not about the Quidditch, it's about the pompoms."
"Yeah," Ron said vaguely, "those are some pompoms..." Hermione snapped her book shut with a vengeance.
"Oh look," she said, pointing towards the Slytherin table. Ron's gaze followed her finger. "Millicent Bulstrode is on the team as well."
"Hermione!" Ron moaned, and buried his head in his arms for the second time that morning. "Why did you make me look?! Now I've got the image of Millicent Bulstrode in spandex burned into my brain forever!" Hermione smiled cooly.
"I think it's nice. She's taking an interest in school spirit."
"I'm all for school spirit, it's the post-traumatic stress disorder I'm worried about," Ron mumbled from the protection of his arms.
"Why purple?" Harry wondered aloud.
"Neutral color," Ginny explained, reaching for the eggs. "You know, the whole inter-house unity thing."
"Right," Harry murmured, watching in fascination as Pansy Parkinson flounced into the room, flaunting her new uniform and smiling smugly. It took a few seconds for Harry to realize that scrap of fabric about her waist must be her skirt. "I wonder how that's working out."
"Hey, Finnegan," Pansy called, and Gryffindor table held its collective breath as she approached and raised a hand. "Looking good," she said, and Seamus reached up for a high-five.
Harry blinked quietly as Pansy made her way to her own house table. "Wow."
"Yup," Ginny said, busy spreading marmalade on her bagel. "They've even got a mascot." She waved her knife toward the Ravenclaw table.
"Oh, Luna," Hermione said sadly. Luna's giant lion hat was making a comeback, but this time it was not alone. In order to honor all of the houses Luna had tacked on a snake's tail, as well as two scaly bird's feet that hung down around her ears like the flaps on a winter hat. She had somehow transfigured the lion's nose into a badger snout, and the whole thing radiated a soft glow, each house's color tinting the air around it for a few seconds, one after another. Luna saw them looking and waved dreamily, wandering over.
"Isn't it lovely?" she said absently. "I've improved it." She performed a little flick of her wand and the hat hissed at them. "It still roars, and caws, as well. I wasn't sure what sound a badger makes, but I'm sure the Hufflepuffs will understand." She favored the Hufflepuff table with a soft smile and several of them choked in terror.
"That's really... nice, Luna," Harry said, and Luna beamed before drifting away.
"Bonkers, that one," Ron remarked, considerably cheered. "Completely mad."
"Sh!" Hermione hissed, and hit Ron harder than was necessary on the arm.
"Ow! Hermione! What-?" Hermione only pointed towards the professor's table.
Harry turned to see Dumbledore smiling faintly. All around him the whispers were dying down as the hall came to attention.
"Good morning," Dumbledore began, and twinkled at them. "Today marks a greatly-anticipated occasion: the first Quidditch game of the school year!" There were a few low cheers, and Harry could see Pansy shaking her pompoms out of the corner of his eye. Malfoy, seated between her and a large purple blob, looked faintly miffed. What, wait? Harry looked again. It was Crabbe. Crabbe was the large purple blob. And there were TWO OF THEM.
"OHMYGOD." Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he gaped. Apparently he'd noticed as well.
"SH!" Hermione hit Ron again. He was too busy being mortified to care.
"...versus Slytherin. The game with take place on the Quidditch pitch directly after breakfast." Dumbledore paused, and peered around at his audience. He seemed entirely too amused. "Now. I'm sure you are all curious about the several uniquely-attired students amongst us."
Ernie MacMillan gave a loud "HUZZAH!" from the Hufflepuff table, and Harry sighed in resignation.
"Ernie, too?"
"I'm afraid so, Harry," Hermione said, and patted his hand.
Dumbledore was talking again. Harry shook his head and tried to pay attention. "It is with great satisfaction that I announce the formation of the first ever Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad!" Applause broke out around the hall. Several students were clapping very enthusiastically, and Harry noticed Hannah Abbott blushing and trying to shrink into her purple-clad self. At the Ravenclaw table Michael Corner stood up and performed a shimmying dance to laughs and more applause. Next to Harry Ginny gave a loud wolf-whistle.
"Ginny!" Ron stared at her, aghast.
Ginny shrugged. "Someone needed to, seeing as how the twins have left and all." Ron blinked. "Hermione, make him shut his mouth." Hermione thumped him. Ron didn't even bother to complain this time.
"Where am I?" he murmured. "This can't be Hogwarts..."
Hermione hid a smile with her hand. "Listen, he's not done."
"The purpose of this wonderful new addition to Hogwarts' Quidditch tradition is, of course, to add fun to the games! It will also hopefully draw students together that perhaps would not normally interact, as it contains representatives from all houses. I believe this is essential, especially in light of recent events." Dumbledore's face grew solemn and Harry felt the silence around him shift. More than a few students had felt the impact of the war; everyone knew at least one person dead or missing, and some parents hadn't allowed their children back to Hogwarts at all. Tensions seemed to mount everyday within the school. Allegiances were being made, half of them secret, and it was growing harder to know who to trust anymore.
Harry glanced back up at Dumbledore, who was staring intensely at them all, and thought that maybe he knew what he was doing after all; a little silliness would come as a relief right now.
As he watched, Dumbledore's eyes crinkled up in a smile again. "As you can see, their are four members from each house, two girls and two boys. Sixteen members in all. Perhaps, depending on how the squad feels, more members shall be added. In that case tryouts would, of course, be school-wide. More information will be available if and when they become necessary. In the meantime, I have taken up far too much of your morning. Please, finish your meal. And to both teams-" here he nodded respectfully to both the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables-- "good luck."
Conversation resumed as Dumbledore took his seat.
"You know, you really should eat," Ginny said, taking Harry's plate and piling on some bacon.
"I know, I'm just nervous. I'm not sure my stomach will cooperate." He took his plate back and stared at it sadly.
"Relax, mate," Ron said. "You've never lost to Slytherin before. This game is in the bag."
"I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Weasel."
Ron's ears went bright red. "Why don't you just sod off, Malfoy?"
Malfoy sneered. "Too nervous to eat, Pothead? Aw, look at the little Weaselette, quivering for a scrap of Scarhead's attention. I bet you're going to take whatever he doesn't eat and put it in your shrine, aren't you? So you and all the rest of Potter's Fan Club can adore his famous ugly face even more."
"Shove OFF!" Harry found himself on his feet with a hand twisted in the front of Malfoy's robes. He was breathing hard and it was taking all of his strength to not smash Malfoy's pointy nose right through the back of his head.
Hermione glanced to the head of the hall, where Snape appeared to be watching the proceedings with interest. "Careful Harry," she cautioned. "He's not worth it."
"Yes, careful Harry," Malfoy mocked, his lip curling. "Wouldn't want to get in trouble before the first game of the year, would we?"
Harry blinked, and dropped his handful. Malfoy brushed himself down haughtily and sniffed. "Good luck at the game, Potter. You'll need it." Harry didn't trust himself to respond.
Ginny did it for him. "How does it feel to have poufs for best friends?" she asked, grinning up at him. "Does it hurt that they chose spandex over you?"
Malfoy looked startled, but recovered quickly. "Oh, so it speaks! I thought you hadn't learned yet."
"Shut up about my sister, you prick!" Ron was had gained his feet as well. Hermione looked worried.
"Look, it's getting kind of late. You'd better get down to the pitch." Harry looked around and realized she was right; the hall was nearly half empty now, as students trickled out towards the grounds.
"See you later, Boy who Blinked. And Weasel." Malfoy sneered one last time for good measure and disappeared into the crowd, headed for the two purple monoliths standing by the door.
"I really hate the git," Ron muttered.
“I would have thought Zabini would join the squad before Crabbe and Goyle,” Hermione remarked thoughtfully, watching Malfoy go.
“Excuse me? What did you just say, you filthy mudblood?!” Blaise Zabini looked absolutely scandalized, stopped dead in his tracks on his way to the exit. “I would never, not EVER, join that group of dancers-gone-retarded! DO YOU HEAR ME?! NOT EVER!” He glowered down at Hermione, who didn’t manage much more than a dazed silence.
“He helped train us though,” Millicent Bulstrode chipped in as she lumbered past. “Knows all about this stuff. Spirit fingers, you know. We Slytherins have got the best on the team.” She glowed (as much as Millicent Bulstrode really could glow-it was more of a dull sheen) and Zabini looked like an animal trapped.
“I-uh-” he stuttered, as the Gryffindor table continued to be quietly perplexed. “Of course I didn’t- I’d never-”
“He’s surprisingly flexible, too, eh, Blaisy?” Millicent grinned toothily and elbowed Zabini rather hard in the ribs. He looked as if he might faint.
There was a beat as Blaise was scandalized, the Gryffindors astonished, and Millicent pleased with herself. Eventually, Pansy sauntered up and threw an arm about Millicent’s shoulders. “Come along, cherubs. Can’t be late for our first match ever, can we, Millie?” She grinned seductively at the Gryffindors. “We’ll just be going then,” she purred, and steered Millicent away, Zabini trailing behind, looking ashamed and bewildered. As they reached the exit, Pansy looked back over her shoulder with half-closed eyes, and rolled her hips slowly. Back at the table, Ron’s face flushed down to his neck.
“Well that was... uh...” Hermione was, for once, at a complete loss for words.
Ginny was the first to recover. “Right well, always thought there was something funny about that Zabini bloke. Anyway-shall we be going?”
***
Ten minutes later, they were outside and Harry felt like he was probably going to throw up now.
“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, too,” Ginny was saying to Seamus. “I’d never call you a pouf! I was just trying to piss him off, you know Malfoy, he’s a prejudiced git. I’ve honestly got nothing against it, I’m happy for you, whatever your lifestyle choices.”
“Don’t worry about it, Gin,” Seamus assured her. “I won’t let an arse like Malfoy get me excited.” Dean, a few steps behind, look rather relieved.
“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione looked alarmed. “You’ve gone all green!”
“Yeah,” Harry said, swallowing. “Yeah, I’m all right. Just... I knew the bacon wasn’t a good idea.” Ginny frowned.
***
At the locker rooms, Harry, Ron, and Ginny said goodbye to Hermione. Once the team was changed and ready for the game, Harry called them together to have a pre-game pep talk.
“I haven’t got much to say,” he began. “First game of the year and all that rot.” There were a few appreciative laughs from the team. “See, the thing is...” Harry looked at them all and felt a grin split his face. “Let’s absolutely destroy Slytherin!” The cheers and whoops from his teammates washed over him, and the nausea of a few minutes before disappeared. He felt comfortable in his Quidditch robes, and hefted the familiar weight of his firebolt onto his shoulder as the Gryffindor Quidditch team made its way out to the pitch.
***
“Captains, shake hands!”
Harry stepped forward and clenched his fist around Malfoy’s creepily long-fingered hand. They shook once, stiffly, and stepped back as quickly as possible.
“Take your positions!” Madam Hooch mounted her own broom, ready to take off. “On my whistle. Three-Two-ONE!” The whistle screamed as Harry pushed off, soaring into the air. The ground fell away and any sense of nervousness went with it. He leveled off just slightly higher than the top of the stands and began peering around for the tiny, fluttering gold ball.
“GIMMIE AN S!” Harry jerked around and stared hard at the ground.
“Gimmie an L!” Susan Bones crowed at the crowd, shaking her pompoms wildly above her head and gyrating her hips.
“L!” The rest of the squad echoed, in rows behind her, bending at the hip and clapping their hands once after each letter.
“Ohmygosh, look! The Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Squad in action!” Harry stared at the stands. Colin? Colin was doing the commentary? Talk about a plan C. He pitied Mcgonnagle, who’s jaw was clenched so tight he could see the tendons from here.
“SLYTHERIN!” Susan cried triumphantly, and the crowd went wild. Meanwhile, Ron made an incredible save, hanging in midair with one ankle wrapped around his broom and arms flailing wildly. It was ignored. Instead, Colin gushed about the lovely uniforms, designed, of course, by his baby brother, Dennis. As Harry watched in fascination, Dennis scrambled up to the podium, tripping over a scroll longer than he was tall, and began to read his Thank You speech.
Harry shook his head and tried to concentrate. Snitch, snitch. He was looking for the snitch.
He was distracted again as Colin screeched, “Dennis, it’s almost your cue! Get down there!” and shoved his brother away from the commentary podium. Dennis practically flew down the stairs towards the pitch. Cue? Harry thought.
And then Anthony Goldstein did a somersault (Anthony Goldstein? SOMERSAULT? Harry’s brain reeled) and screamed, “PYRAMID!” and as Harry watched, the HICS formed a human pyramid in three seconds flat.
Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent, and Ernie all barreled to the center, contracting and settling together to become four human boulders. Michael Corner pulled a face before curling up gracefully next to them. They looked briefly like a small rock wall. Then Seamus was heaving himself onto Michael's back, taking care to stomp on a particularly weak section of spine. Susan boosted Anthony up on Crabbe and Goyle’s shoulders before leaping atop the wall herself. Justin Flinch-Fletchely was already in place on her other side. Two rows set, three to go (of course, it was all happening very quickly, too quickly for Harry to actually notice such minutiae-this is purely for narrative detail). Next, Parvati, Pansy, and Lavendar scrambled to position. Pansy smiled for England between two very disgruntled Gryffindors. Hannah and Mandy Brocklehurst somehow found their way up and last of all-little Dennis Creevy came running and leapt at the last moment. He seemed to hang in the air for far too long and then it was done. The pyramid was formed, all of them breaking their faces with smiling, and Luna’s absurd hat roared, squawked, and hissed triumphantly above the roar of the crowd.
Harry hung in the air in disbelief and watched Anthony take a great puff of his inhaler, all the while apparently still managing to keep on all fours AND smile.
“Harry!” Ginny screamed as she sped by. “Watch out!”
“Wha-?” And then he spotted the oncoming goal pole. Swerving to avoid collision, Harry was astounded. He had been distracted from flying. Nothing could distract him from flying.
“I said BRR-” Pansy sang, shivering and clutching at her arms with her pompoms comically. “It’s COLD in here!”
“There must be some GRYFFIES in the ATMOSPHERE!” The whole squad chorused (Gryffies? Harry thought indignantly).
“I said BRR-” Pansy began again, and this time she shook her whole body, including her ample posterior, as she shivered. Harry stared. He was distracted.
“Quit eyeing up my girlfriend, Potter!” Malfoy was suddenly there, throwing a halfhearted punch in Harry’s direction.
Harry dodged easily. “Girlfriend?” he scoffed. “Is that why I heard she’s sleeping her way through the Hufflepuff team? Not getting enough satisfaction at home?”
“HUFFLEPUFFS?” Malfoy screeched. He looked a little green. “How DARE you?!”
“You know I’d love to chat, Malfoy,” Harry said, dodging another pale, flailing fist, “but can we do this later? I’ve got a Quidditch match to win.” And with that he was off, following the flicker of gold he’d just noticed hovering above the Ravenclaw stands. He didn’t have to look back to know that Malfoy was only seconds away. He could feel the tail of wind spinning out behind him, and grinned fiercely as he imagined what that must be doing to Malfoy’s precious hair.
“Oh my, it seems as if Malfoy has actually started chasing Harry around the field!” Colin looked delighted. “Speaking of Malfoy, I do hope he won’t be too upset about that hair.” Harry almost laughed out loud as he heard a howl of rage from just behind his left foot. He thought about kicking out at the ugly prat’s face, but put on a burst of speed instead. The snitch was beginning to drift.
“This is the most intense game of tag I’ve ever see-”
Suddenly Colin’s voice cut out, replaced by small scuffling noises, grunts, and a hiss of “You stupid boy, give that here!” A few seconds later, Minerva Mcgonnagle said smoothly, “And it appears that Potter has spotted the snitch.”
The crowd went wild, which was odd, considering the squad was taking a break, and Harry realized they were cheering for him.
The snitch had veered off towards the Slytherin goal posts and Harry followed, flattening his torso against the broom handle and blinking tears from his eyes as the wind whipped past. His world had become nothing but a gold ball and fluttering wings and if he could only stretch a little longer... He willed his arm to grow, he could feel the feathery wings mere centimeters beyond his reach... Just a few seconds now, and then--
“OOPH!” Harry’s vision faded and his head was splitting in half with pain. The broom slipped from his fingers, and Harry fell away into unconsciousness.
**
“Harry? Harry, dear, are you all right?” He heard her as if from a very long distance away. “Wake up, Harry, oh, wake up!”
His eyes slit open. The glare of the sun hurt his head, which was throbbing somewhere behind his right ear. “’Mione?” Everything was a little blurry, and he groaned as he felt a lump beginning under his hair. “Bloody bludgers.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Hermione looked very relieved. Her smile wavered when he winced. “Here, let me take care of that.” She reached back gingerly and touched her wand to the lump on his skull. A few muttered words later and Harry sighed gratefully. “Thanks, Hermione,” he said, smiling. That was when he noticed all the faces peering over her shoulder. “I’m all right,” he said loudly.
“Potter has thankfully recovered after a well-aimed bludger by Slytherin’s beater, Damien Grittings,” Mcgonnagle reported.
Harry pulled himself to his feet, and searched around for his broom. He had apparently landed in the stands when he passed out, which was lucky. He didn’t relish the thought of falling from a broom twenty feet in the air to the pitch.
“The snitch, on the other hand...” Mcgonnagle continued.
“The snitch!” Harry gasped, forgetting his broom and staring hard at the sky. “Malfoy didn’t-?”
“Relax, Harry,” Ginny said, handing him his broom.
“Ginny? Why aren’t you in the air?”
Ginny smiled to him and simply pointed behind him. Harry turned to find himself staring at a large lion with a snake’s tail.
“Luna?” He asked, nonplussed.
“The Hogwarts Inter-House Cheerleading Team’s mascot has apparently swallowed the snitch.” Mcgonnagle sounded anything but pleased.
“Luna, you ate the SNITCH?!” Harry roared. He was fine with her normal craziness as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, but she couldn’t be allowed to just go around eating snitches and ruining other people’s quidditch games all the time. It wasn’t right!
“No, Harry, don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny laughed. “The hat ate it!” Luna hefted the hat, which Harry imagined looked rather pleased with itself, and grinned at him cheerily.
“Well...” Harry sagged, at a loss. “Well... get it out! Make it spit it up or something!”
“Can’t,” Luna said, as the hat at her side continued to quietly radiate house colors.
“That means the game isn’t over, you stupid, crazy bat!” Malfoy stomped up the stands towards them looking quite a mess. His hair was all out of order and his normally deathly pale complexion turned ruddy with rage.
“He’s right,” Harry confirmed, slightly bemused. He wasn’t used to agreeing with Malfoy. “The game ends when a seeker catches the snitch. But now we can’t, so... so it can’t end.”
“Well if there is no snitch to catch, that means the game isn’t even being played correctly anymore,” Hermione mused. “So doesn’t that just forfeit the whole game? I mean, without the snitch, there is no game.”
“You are, as usual, quite correct, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore remarked softly. Harry started; he hadn’t noticed the Headmaster’s presence. “There is nothing for it but to declare the match a draw.”
“No!” Harry and Malfoy yelled simultaneously, followed by twin looks of surprise.
“You can’t call off the game, sir,” Harry pleaded, recovering first, “Not the first match of the year!”
“A draw is as good as a loss, and I will not lose to him!” Malfoy shrieked.
Harry paused and peered at Malfoy. “But... you do all the time.”
“Shut up, Potter! That's only because you cheat!”
“You’re the cheater! You’re the Slytherin!”
“At least I’m not a bloody Gryffindor! You’re all stupid and red makes me sick. Besides, I was winning before you went and swooned!”
“I did not swoon, I was hit with a bludger, you great prat!”
“I’m not a prat, git!”
“Enough,” Dumbledore said, a hint of steel in his soft voice. Both boys came to attention, Harry red and Malfoy glowering. “The game is a draw.”
“But, sir-”
“No buts, Harry. There is no other option. Besides, what better way to promote inter-house unity than to eliminate the competition, at least for the moment?”
“But it’s quidditch,” Harry said in despair. Dumbledore did not smile, but the wrinkles around his eyes returned.
“There will be other matches, Harry. Besides, it’s just a game.”
“But it’s my game,” Harry whispered as Dumbledore climbed the stands to inform Mcgonnagle of the game’s results. Hermione made a sympathetic sound and put an arm around his shoulder.
“Oh, get over yourself, Scarface. I would have won.” With that, Malfoy stalked away towards his own house mates.
“Who did win, anyway? I mean, without the points from the snitch?” Harry asked suddenly. Before Ginny could reply, Mcgonnagle interrupted.
“Given the unfortunate disappearance of the snitch, the match has been declared a draw. Players, please cease and... well, just come down!” The crowd groaned and Harry watched as his team mates returned to the ground. Suddenly he noticed that not everyone had finished just yet.
“Goooo-” he glanced down to the pitch, where the HICS were apparently still hard at work, a purple mass against the green lawn, pompoms waving on high. “-oooo GRYFFINDOR!”
“We did,” Ginny said, grinning.
Edit: Also! This fic is being hosted at reddwarfette's site, I believe. She might actually not yet have it up, but go check it out anyway, there's some really good stuff there. :)