Fic Challenge #31
Title: October’s Game
Summary: The goings-on during the first Gryffindor/Slytherin match of the year! (In my mind, it’s set during CoS.)
Characters/Pairings: A little bit of everyone for characters. The only pairing is Percy/Penelope.
Rating: PG-13 for some kissin’.
Word Count: 1,035
Quidditch match. Two words with a simple definition: the time during which a game of Quidditch is held. At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, a Quidditch match was a special affair - each house in competition would suit up in their finest pride colours, and the Quidditch players would be treated like heroes at breakfast, with friends patting them on the back, pouring them pumpkin juice, and grabbing them extra pieces of toast. Students who weren’t part of the competing houses would choose an alliance - often the one they considered to be their least significant competition. And then, after a fortifying morning meal, teachers, students and players alike would traipse down to the Quidditch pitch.
It’s upon their arrival at the pitch where the meaning of Quidditch match starts to differ for various people.
For the professors, it’s a time to break out a little good-hearted rivalry, one they didn’t get to exhibit on a day-to-day basis for the purposes of house unity. That’s why, as they settled into their seats, Professor Snape leaned over and murmured in Professor McGonagall’s ear.
“I wouldn’t dust off the shelf in your office, Professor - I daresay the trophy won’t be finding itself a new home this year.”
And, as always, Professor McGonagall smiled in her tight-lipped way and gave her little Gryffindor flag a small wave. “It is always delightful when someone as cocky as yourself has to eat his words, Severus.”
Out on the pitch, Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded shrilly. The bludgers shot off into the air, and the golden snitch was long gone in a mere second. She tossed the quaffle high into the air, and both team’s chasers speeded towards the ball. It landed in Slytherin’s possession, and captain Marcus Flint tore off down the pitch with it.
Professor Snape didn’t even make eye contact with Professor McGonagall. “We shall see, Minerva. We shall see.”
The quaffle sailed through the Gryffindor hoops and Oliver Wood cursed loudly, mentally preparing to beat himself up over that mistake for a week. The ball tumbled through the air as Angelina Johnson raced after it, her Quidditch robes practically grazing the bleachers as she pulled out of a dive with the Quaffle clutched tightly in her hands.
Underneath those bleachers, Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater didn’t even notice. They were too busy being wrapped up in each other, Percy’s lips resting gentle against her throat.
“Perce,” Penelope whispered, and her hand moved to rest gently against his chest, “do you think we should be doing this?”
Percy didn’t even look up at her; instead, he pressed another kiss to her pulse point. “Why not?” he murmured against her skin. “Everyone’s busy -” he dropped a kiss against her shoulder, “No one’s paying the least bit of attention to us -” his mouth moved to cover her collarbone, warm and soft, “The timing is perfect.”
Penelope found it hard to argue with him - his mouth was awfully persuasive. “But what if we get caught?” she asked half-heartedly. But her head was tilting back and allowing him better access to the skin at her neck, directly conflicting with her words. Percy noticed this and smiled again. He pulled his mouth away from her neck and stretched his neck up so that he could kiss her again, one hand coming up to cup her chin gently.
“I’m not worried,” he whispered when they pulled apart to breathe. “Are you?”
Penelope was too busy meeting Percy’s lips with her own once more to hear the cheer of excitement that came from the roaring crowd above them.
“Ten points to Gryffindor!” Lee Jordan’s voice rang out loud and clear into the crisp autumn air. “That brings our score to fifty points for Slytherin and forty points for Gryffindor. And Katie Bell has the quaffle.”
“I can’t believe they’re still beating us!” Seamus Finnegan cried from his spot in the stands. He was amidst the giant clump of scarlet and gold, and he waved the end of his Gryffindor scarf at the Slytherin side with determination. “We’ll beat you yet, you filthy -”
“Seamus, be nice!” Hermione scolded from the row behind him. Seamus glowered but didn’t yell another threat across the pitch.
“We’ll be fine,” Dean assured them all, a pair of Muggle binoculars pressed tight against his eyes. His head darted back and forth as he tried to keep up with all the action and bounce between chasers, beaters and seekers. “We have Harry on the team. He’s way better than Malfoy.”
“He bloody well is,” Ron agreed, glaring up at the player that was Malfoy, only distinguishable from this distance thanks to his white-blond hair.
The quaffle sailed through the Slytherin hoops once more, and Alicia Spinnet pumped her fist happily. George high-fived her as he flew past, a grin on his face.
“It’s now fifty-fifty for Gryffindor and Slytherin!” Lee crowed through the microphone, delighted. “It’s really anyone’s game now!”
Suddenly, Harry dove towards the ground. It was hardly even fair - he managed to fly downwards a few seconds before Malfoy even noticed he’d taken off. He wasn’t paying attention to Malfoy, who he was sure would attempt to catch up with him eventually. All his focus was on that tiny glittering ball lounging by the grass.
When he pulled out of his dive with the snitch in his fist, its wings fluttering helplessly against his fingers, the stadium erupted in cheers.
Professor McGonagall pleasantly handed her Gryffindor flag to Professor Snape, a full-out grin on her face now. “One more match, Severus. Best start saying goodbye to the cup now.”
Percy and Penelope didn’t even look up to see what all the fuss was about, too focused on each other to even care.
And Harry Potter landed both feet firmly on the ground. He gazed around the pitch at all the smiling, cheering students, and opened his arms wide as the rest of his teammates smothered him with a group hug. This, Harry thought, was where he belonged.
A normal Quidditch match with three more scheduled throughout the year. And the staff and students of Hogwarts couldn’t wait to do it all over again.
1035/50 + 5 (challenge) = 26
26 POINTS FOR HUFFLEPUFF
[Um, this is my first time posting something here, and I don't have an author tag. Would I be able to get one, please? :) ]
Summary: The goings-on during the first Gryffindor/Slytherin match of the year! (In my mind, it’s set during CoS.)
Characters/Pairings: A little bit of everyone for characters. The only pairing is Percy/Penelope.
Rating: PG-13 for some kissin’.
Word Count: 1,035
Quidditch match. Two words with a simple definition: the time during which a game of Quidditch is held. At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, a Quidditch match was a special affair - each house in competition would suit up in their finest pride colours, and the Quidditch players would be treated like heroes at breakfast, with friends patting them on the back, pouring them pumpkin juice, and grabbing them extra pieces of toast. Students who weren’t part of the competing houses would choose an alliance - often the one they considered to be their least significant competition. And then, after a fortifying morning meal, teachers, students and players alike would traipse down to the Quidditch pitch.
It’s upon their arrival at the pitch where the meaning of Quidditch match starts to differ for various people.
For the professors, it’s a time to break out a little good-hearted rivalry, one they didn’t get to exhibit on a day-to-day basis for the purposes of house unity. That’s why, as they settled into their seats, Professor Snape leaned over and murmured in Professor McGonagall’s ear.
“I wouldn’t dust off the shelf in your office, Professor - I daresay the trophy won’t be finding itself a new home this year.”
And, as always, Professor McGonagall smiled in her tight-lipped way and gave her little Gryffindor flag a small wave. “It is always delightful when someone as cocky as yourself has to eat his words, Severus.”
Out on the pitch, Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded shrilly. The bludgers shot off into the air, and the golden snitch was long gone in a mere second. She tossed the quaffle high into the air, and both team’s chasers speeded towards the ball. It landed in Slytherin’s possession, and captain Marcus Flint tore off down the pitch with it.
Professor Snape didn’t even make eye contact with Professor McGonagall. “We shall see, Minerva. We shall see.”
The quaffle sailed through the Gryffindor hoops and Oliver Wood cursed loudly, mentally preparing to beat himself up over that mistake for a week. The ball tumbled through the air as Angelina Johnson raced after it, her Quidditch robes practically grazing the bleachers as she pulled out of a dive with the Quaffle clutched tightly in her hands.
Underneath those bleachers, Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater didn’t even notice. They were too busy being wrapped up in each other, Percy’s lips resting gentle against her throat.
“Perce,” Penelope whispered, and her hand moved to rest gently against his chest, “do you think we should be doing this?”
Percy didn’t even look up at her; instead, he pressed another kiss to her pulse point. “Why not?” he murmured against her skin. “Everyone’s busy -” he dropped a kiss against her shoulder, “No one’s paying the least bit of attention to us -” his mouth moved to cover her collarbone, warm and soft, “The timing is perfect.”
Penelope found it hard to argue with him - his mouth was awfully persuasive. “But what if we get caught?” she asked half-heartedly. But her head was tilting back and allowing him better access to the skin at her neck, directly conflicting with her words. Percy noticed this and smiled again. He pulled his mouth away from her neck and stretched his neck up so that he could kiss her again, one hand coming up to cup her chin gently.
“I’m not worried,” he whispered when they pulled apart to breathe. “Are you?”
Penelope was too busy meeting Percy’s lips with her own once more to hear the cheer of excitement that came from the roaring crowd above them.
“Ten points to Gryffindor!” Lee Jordan’s voice rang out loud and clear into the crisp autumn air. “That brings our score to fifty points for Slytherin and forty points for Gryffindor. And Katie Bell has the quaffle.”
“I can’t believe they’re still beating us!” Seamus Finnegan cried from his spot in the stands. He was amidst the giant clump of scarlet and gold, and he waved the end of his Gryffindor scarf at the Slytherin side with determination. “We’ll beat you yet, you filthy -”
“Seamus, be nice!” Hermione scolded from the row behind him. Seamus glowered but didn’t yell another threat across the pitch.
“We’ll be fine,” Dean assured them all, a pair of Muggle binoculars pressed tight against his eyes. His head darted back and forth as he tried to keep up with all the action and bounce between chasers, beaters and seekers. “We have Harry on the team. He’s way better than Malfoy.”
“He bloody well is,” Ron agreed, glaring up at the player that was Malfoy, only distinguishable from this distance thanks to his white-blond hair.
The quaffle sailed through the Slytherin hoops once more, and Alicia Spinnet pumped her fist happily. George high-fived her as he flew past, a grin on his face.
“It’s now fifty-fifty for Gryffindor and Slytherin!” Lee crowed through the microphone, delighted. “It’s really anyone’s game now!”
Suddenly, Harry dove towards the ground. It was hardly even fair - he managed to fly downwards a few seconds before Malfoy even noticed he’d taken off. He wasn’t paying attention to Malfoy, who he was sure would attempt to catch up with him eventually. All his focus was on that tiny glittering ball lounging by the grass.
When he pulled out of his dive with the snitch in his fist, its wings fluttering helplessly against his fingers, the stadium erupted in cheers.
Professor McGonagall pleasantly handed her Gryffindor flag to Professor Snape, a full-out grin on her face now. “One more match, Severus. Best start saying goodbye to the cup now.”
Percy and Penelope didn’t even look up to see what all the fuss was about, too focused on each other to even care.
And Harry Potter landed both feet firmly on the ground. He gazed around the pitch at all the smiling, cheering students, and opened his arms wide as the rest of his teammates smothered him with a group hug. This, Harry thought, was where he belonged.
A normal Quidditch match with three more scheduled throughout the year. And the staff and students of Hogwarts couldn’t wait to do it all over again.
1035/50 + 5 (challenge) = 26
26 POINTS FOR HUFFLEPUFF
[Um, this is my first time posting something here, and I don't have an author tag. Would I be able to get one, please? :) ]
