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  1. #101
    Still, Albus was the Headmaster, and Severus respected that. However, why he had to endure Hagrid’s ramble, he had no idea. As if that match wasn’t humiliating enough…


    Charity and Septima were having the time of their lives. Both liked to discuss Quidditch matches they had just seen; it was a given that they had to discuss one they actually played in. They laughed about some of the goals; Charity remarked on the number of times she thought she’d drop the Quaffle altogether. Septima was giggling about the students’ cheers she had heard during the game; some students were creative…
    100 words! Keep passing that Quaffle!*hopes this is fifty*

  2. #102
    Wizengamot Hufflepuff
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    *nearly felled by last minute Bludger*

    "Those Weasley twins were naughty," said Septima giggling. "I swear they were chanting 'shampoo' everytime Severus went past."

    "Poor Severus," sighed Charity. "It's a shame he doesn't really want to come here with us. He played well today."

    "Charity Burbage, you're not harbouring romantic thoughts about Severus, are you?" said her friend aghast.

    "You're a fine one to talk, Septima," said Charity in mock outrage. "You could barely play for gazing all moonstruck at our newest member of staff."

    They reached the door of the pub and walked in to see Albus already sitting in the corner with Remus.
    *will they kiss and make up*

    Remus and Severus I mean

    98 words

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  3. #103
    Scowling, Severus strode after his colleagues, Hagrid following close behind.

    “Severus!” Charity turned to greet him properly.

    “Charity.” He inclined his head towards her.

    “Severus, a pleasure as always.” Remus jumped at the chance to move further away from Septima, without appearing rude, and standing, held out his hand for the potions master to shake.

    Sneering at the hand held out, Severus ignored it, but took his seat beside Albus, and proceeded to look angry for the fact that he was forced there.

    "Really, Severus, must you sulk?" Albus peered over his half moon glasses. "You're acting like a child."

    100 words

    Sobbing with her amazing team and wonderful Captain

  4. #104
    Honigkuchenpferd Hufflepuff
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    So, next to last drabble?

    “I’m not sulking –” Severus began, but the knowing gaze of the older wizard silenced him. He went to stare at his Firewhisky instead.

    “Pomona,” Minerva said at the other end of the table, “I need to apologise. I wasn’t very fair to you.”

    The Herbology professor shook her head. “I have to apologise to you, Minerva. I have been… too competitive for my own good.”

    “So forgiven and forgotten?”

    “Sure.” And both witches shook their hands in renewed friendship.

    A sudden clap of hands let everyone look up and towards Albus. “I’m so glad everything is now straightened out.”
    100 words.

    Next one, and we should be finished!

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  5. #105
    Wizengamot Hufflepuff
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    Albus picked up his drink. "Although I would like you, Severus, to accept the hand of friendship from Remus, here."

    Severus gazed into the wise eyes of Albus and slowly held out his hand to Remus. Remus grasped it, and solemnly, they shook hands under the eyes of everyone.

    Albus cleared his throat. "I wish to make a toast, a toast to you all, for although it may not have been the finest game of Quidditch Hogwarts has seen, it was certainly the funniest! A game that will be remembered warmly by all our students for many years to come."
    100 words.


    sobs into Bine, Lexy and Alice's arms.


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  6. #106
    Honigkuchenpferd Hufflepuff
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    That's it, team. We've done it. We finished in time. And let me say: You've been an awesome team!

    Here now go our chapters.

    Chapter One

    “Honestly, I can’t believe that Dumbledore let Dementors into the school!” Poppy Pomfrey sighed, glaring at the unfortunate Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick, who had been forced into listening to the Matron rant.

    “But Poppy,” Filius squeaked, “Dumbledore has got his reasons, remember.” He looked to Pomona for support.

    “Of course.” The Herbology professor jumped in immediately, offering her kind and soothing voice. “How terrible would it be if Black got in here?”

    “Twelve students!” Poppy cried, not hearing a word. “All affected by the Dementors! We need to do something!”

    “Don’t worry,” Pomona continued soothing.

    “Of course!” shouted Filius. “How about we…” He leaned over the table and explained his idea to his colleagues.

    That evening, he and Pomona then went to see Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

    “I see,” the old wizard said with twinkling eyes when he heard the plan Filius had had. “The idea is really good. I think the students will like it.”

    “So we’re going to do it then?” Filius asked excitedly.

    Albus nodded. “Yes. I’ll write a notice and leave it in the staff room.” And so he did.

    Severus Snape read the message on the notice board in the staff room and sighed. Dumbledore appeared to have taken complete leave of his senses. Well, he wouldn’t be taking part.

    “Ah!” said a strident voice behind him. “What’s all this, Severus?”

    “A Quidditch match, Minerva, amongst the staff. Stupid idea if you ask me,” he sneered.

    “Scared you can’t beat me, Severus?” she said archly.

    “Slytherin appears to have been doing that for the past seven years, Minerva. I don’t think we have anything to prove,” he said softly.

    Hmm, she thought, we’ll see about that!


    “Severus!” Filius cried, chasing after the billowing robes of the Potions Master, as he paused in rounding the corner.

    “Filius?” he inquired, looking bored. The shorter man caught up, and attempted to catch his breath.

    “I take it,” he wheezed, “that you… read the notice…? What… do you think… of the idea, Severus?”

    “I’m afraid I’m not interested, Filius,” he sneered. “I have more important things to do than entertain sensitive children.”

    “Not even to show up Minerva?”

    “I’ve showed her up the past seven years.”

    “You have?” he squeaked, surprised. “But hasn’t Gryffindor won, the last two years?”

    Severus stared at his colleague. “No, Gryffindor hasn’t won the last years. You surely remember that last year Quidditch was cancelled due to the opening of the Chamber?”

    “Oh, yes, right,” Filius mumbled. He laughed but it died quickly again; he hurriedly took his leave. Severus looked after the small man’s retreating back until he had vanished behind the next corner.

    “Good morning, Severus,” came then the voice of the one man the Potions Master didn’t want to see this moment. “Did you already read the notice in the staff room?”

    “I did.” His lip curled sarcastically.

    “So,” said Professor Dumbledore, “what do you think of Filius’ idea?”

    “Asinine and quite out of the question!” snapped Snape. “I am far too busy to consider taking part.”

    “That is a shame, Severus,” replied Dumbledore calmly, “because we were rather hoping that you would be a Captain. Obviously if you think the idea is asinine then perhaps Remus will take charge instead.”

    Snape could see himself astride a broom, the wind in his hair and the Slytherins urging him on to victory. Lupin, he thought, there’s no way I’ll countenance that!

    “Headmaster, I accept.”

    Dumbledore allowed himself a small mental grin. He knew exactly how to make Severus do the right thing, even if he swore he’d never do it…


    Remus Lupin sat in his office, thinking. It’s been who knows how long since he played Quidditch last. Actually, he did know how long; seventeen years. Seventeen years passed since the last time he and the three of his best friends played two-on-two, just with the Quaffle. He felt excitement coursing through his veins at the thought of flying again. Flying under the leadership of Severus should be twice as interesting, Remus thought.


    “We’re doing what?“ Aurora Sinistra asked surprised when Minerva told her the news.

    “We’re going to play Quidditch,” Pomona explained excitedly, earning a raised eyebrow by her colleagues. She knew that Filius’ idea had been great and that Albus simply had to accept it. “I’m really looking forward to the experience,” she added.

    “Sybil, you’re surely going to join us, aren’t you?” Minerva asked when the Divination professor entered the room.

    “Me? Playing Quidditch?” Sybil Trelawney questioned; she had already heard of the planned match. “I can not. My Inner Eye tells me it’s going to end in a catastrophe.”

    “Stuff and nonsense!” exclaimed Minerva. “It’ll do us all good, shake a bit of life into our old bones.”

    Speak for yourself, thought Septima Vector, the youngest witch on the staff. You’re at least twice my age!

    “How are we going to divide into teams?” Septima asked her.

    “Well,” explained Pomona, “I thought the Captains could pick...” Her voice trailed off under Minerva’s disapproving eye.

    “Witches against warlocks!” declared Minerva. “Severus is a Captain so I...”

    “Minerva,” interrupted Septima, “how about I take charge of our team? I did fly for the Ravenclaw team quite recently.”

    “Oh, that’s an excellent idea!” cried Charity Burbage, eyeing the two witches warily, sensing the mounting tension. Minerva said nothing, but glared at the victorious woman.

    “Now then,” Septima smiled at her colleagues, “first off, we need to decide who is playing, and where. So who would like to compete?”

    “Us?” Pomona looked at Charity, who nodded.

    “Of course,” Minerva said, stiffly.

    “Please?” Bathsheba Babbling asked.

    “Me,” Aurora said confidently. “I play Seeker.”

    “Good, now I’m a Keeper-”

    “Oh? Well, I’m a Chaser. I like to be involved in the match.” Minerva shot her Captain a sarcastic look.

    “I’d like to be a Beater,” Bathsheba announced confidently.

    Charity looked at the Herbology professor while declaring, “Pomona and I would like to be Chasers, too.”

    Septima looked at her colleagues. “We should play with one Beater only. Even with training it’ll be hard enough to avoid one vicious Bludger.”

    The others nodded and started planning secret training sessions. Sybil in the meantime predicted them their dooms. No one listened of course.


    “Gentlemen, we have a serious problem.” Everyone looked questioningly at Remus. “If we go along with Minerva’s plan, playing warlocks against witches, we’re in the minority.

    “There are seven of them and only four of us,” continued Remus. “I don’t quite know how we can field a team.”

    “Well Sybil’s refusing to play,” said Flitwick eagerly, “and I’m sure Argus would play if Severus asked him so that’s six against five.”

    There was a noise from the corner; Argus Filch had been sitting there unnoticed the whole time.

    “You won’t catch me on a broom,” he moaned. “Not with my back.”

    It looked as though the team’s chances had ended before they’d even taken to the air.

    “Of course,” said Dumbledore, “there is always Peeves.”

    “P-peeves?” Filius stuttered.

    “Yes. I believe he would make an excellent Beater. Don’t you agree?

    “Well,” Remus gave the Headmaster a thoughtful look, “I think… that maybe we should ask Severus? He is the Captain.”

    “B-but,” Filius spluttered. He seemed unable to voice his thoughts.

    “Of course, Remus. How silly of me. In fact, I shall go and find Severus right now. And although he may, I daresay, object at first, I do think he will come around. After all, who better to hit a Bludger than a poltergeist?” His blue eyes twinkled, as he swept out of the room.


    “Peeves? As a Beater? In our team?”

    Silence crept among both men while they looked at each other, twinkling blue meeting cold, staring coal.

    “Have you now completely lost it, Albus?” Severus hissed. “At first making us play Quidditch for the students, and now the poltergeist in our team?”

    The old wizard chuckled. “Now, Severus, I’m sure Peeves will love to lend us his helping hand.”

    “You rather mean his chaotic hand,” the Potions Master mumbled under his breath.

    “I’ll go to see if I can find him. We need to ask if he wants to join us,” Albus said.


    Alone in his office, Remus was marking the third year’s essays when he was interrupted by a visitor.

    “S-septima,” he stuttered, “how lovely to see you.”

    The Arithmancy teacher sauntered in and conjured a seat next to him.

    “Hi, Remus,” she said. “I wanted a chat.”

    “Err..err...certainly, Septima. How can I help?” he said, wondering why she was quite so near.

    “It’s about this Quidditch match, Remus,” she said softly. “I’d hate to think this rivalry could stop us being friends.”

    “I-I’m sure it won’t, Septima,” he said blushing deeply.

    She placed a hand on his. “Oh good!”


    Peeves was found loosening the chandeliers in one of the large rooms of Hogwarts. Needless to say, he was rather surprised to be offered a spot on the Quidditch team.

    “Play with the teachers?” he exclaimed. “No. I won’t do it.”

    “Peeves, I assure you, this was not my idea. But the Headmaster requested you play Beater, and I for one wish not to disobey his orders. No matter how absurd they appear.”

    “Oh.” His face lit up as he cackled happily. “The Headmaster wants wee Peevesy to play Beater? Well, if the Headmaster insists, who is Peevesy to refuse?”

    Snape could not believe it. No, he simply couldn’t. He was a Captain of a Quidditch team. Lupin was one of the players. He just asked Peeves the poltergeist to participate. The world was definitely approaching its last breath.

    I will not forget this, Headmaster, he thought sulkily, knowing perfectly well that he would never do anything to harm Albus Dumbledore. Severus sipped his tea irritably.


    Albus Dumbledore himself was also sipping tea, but in a much more agreeable mood than his Potions teacher. His plan to distract his staff from their worries was working splendidly.

    Now it was time for the next step in this genius plan. Filius might have had voiced the idea, but Albus had already played with the plan of a staff Quidditch match for quite some time – years, to be precise.

    The next morning found an announcement on the Entrance Hall notice board:

    Dear students,

    It’s my pleasure to announce that we, the staff of
    Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
    will be having a Quidditch match.

    The match will be taking place a week before Halloween.
    I hope to see many of you to cheer for us.

    Albus Dumbledore


    “Wow,” said Ron to Harry. “That should be...err...interesting. Imagine McGonagall and Dumbledore on brooms.”

    “What, pray tell, is so funny about that, Mr Weasley?” said the sharp tones of his Housemistress who was standing behind him with Remus.

    “Err...Nothing,” said Ron as his ears went pink. “Can’t wait to see the match, Professors. Are you on the same side?”

    “Actually,” said Remus, “it’s wizards against witches.”

    “What?” said Harry in amazement. “So you’re playing with Snape.”

    “Professor Snape, Harry,” reproved Remus. “He’s actually my Captain and I am the Seeker. Any tips for your favourite professor, Harry?”

    “Tips?” Harry laughed. “Well, I suppose the trick is to stay focused. Keep up above the match. Try not to get distracted by the game, and err… sorry, Professor…” he trailed off under Minerva’s disapproving glare.


    “No,” Severus said, brushing off his student with a wave of his hand. Casually, he glanced sideways and frowned. Stupid James Potter. Stupid werewolf. What were they laughing about now? Blinking, Severus shook his head. What was he thinking? Potter had been dead for years. That was just his stupid, arrogant son, Harry Potter. But it wasn’t like that was any better.


    As the day of the match approached, excitement began to brew among the students. Most of the people were looking forward to seeing teachers at play; even those who sniggered at Dumbledore’s announcement at first were talking about it with great gusto. Fred and George Weasley began accepting bets on the score; not surprisingly, Professor McGonagall’s sheer enthusiasm about Quidditch skewed the projected odds in the witches’ favour. Students were seen discussing possible tactics that could benefit or hurt either of the teams. No students were allowed to attend practices, which made quite a few people disappointed.


    “Lupin, get over here now!” shouted Severus. “We need to discuss tactics and as you’re supposedly a part of this team, I suggest you join us.”

    Remus sighed. He was getting rather sick of Severus’ remarks about his Seeker ability. Harry had told him to stay focused and keep above the match, so he was doing just that. However, it wouldn’t do to upset the team the day before the match.

    “Right you are, Severus,” he said through gritted teeth.

    As he flew down to join them he noticed someone waving from the stands.

    “Remus,” called Septima. “You’re looking...good.”


    Minerva huffed, annoyed. “Do you know where Septima is?” she asked Bathsheba.

    The younger witch shook her head. “I’m sorry, I have no idea.”

    Minerva sighed and started pacing up and down.

    Twenty minutes later, Pomona and Aurora entered the changing room. The Transfiguration professor asked them for Septima’s whereabouts, too, but none of them had seen her. However, when Charity arrived and was asked, she just pointed at the wooden ceiling.

    “She’s up there, in the stands, cheering Remus. That’s at least what I could discern.”

    The other women looked at her, wide-eyed. “She’s doing what?”

    “Cheering Remus… Why? To be honest, I’m surprised any of you managed to miss her.”

    “What do you mean? Should we have seen her?” Pomona looked curiously towards the ceiling.

    “Well, she was being awfully loud, you know. I could hear her from the entrance of the pitch.” Charity walked away from the other witches, and started to change, feeling the conversation was over. Minerva however, was livid.

    “But- but she’s the one who called this meeting!” she cried.

    “Yes. But she obviously thinks her crush on Remus takes priority.” The witch turned back around, to re-join the group.



    “Lupin, concentrate,” barked Severus.

    Remus tore his eyes away from Septima, who was cheering him loudly whenever he flew past her, and looked at his Captain.

    “Fully focused, Severus,” Remus assured him.

    “Loopy, loopy, Lupin,” sang Peeves as he whizzed past. “Seppy loves Loopy!”

    “Septima Vector!” bellowed Minerva as she strode onto the pitch. “Get down here immediately and talk to your team.”

    “Ooops,” giggled Septima. “See you later, Remus, perhaps we”

    “Err...sure,” said Remus blushing. He was aware that all the men were looking at him now and that Albus, particularly, seemed to be amused.

    “Seppy leurves Loopy,” Peeves sang in a long-winded voice, afterwards cackling amusedly.

    Severus narrowed his eyes, took out his wand and shot a silencing spell at the Poltergeist.


    “What do you think they’re doing, Harry?” Ron asked. He sat on the windowsill, his face pressed against the glass to see what was happening on the Quidditch pitch. He was excited for Halloween and the game to come.

    Harry looked up from where he leaved through Quidditch Through The Ages. “No idea.”

    Ron sighed and looked back out of the window. “I just wish they’d allow us to watch their practices.”


    “What is the meaning of this- this- this nonsense?” Minerva shook with anger, and her tone was low and dangerous.

    “What are you talking about?” Septima frowned at her colleague in annoyance. “What was the point in dragging me away from there?”

    “Our meeting. The one you called. Remember?” Minerva’s nostrils were flaring, and her lips, pressed together, formed a peculiar shade of white.

    “Relax, Minerva!” Septima retorted, her temper flaring, as she eventually snapped. “It’s a game! Okay! Just a game. Just to amuse the students. Stop being so uptight!”

    “STOP IT!” Pomona screamed, quite suddenly.

    “Hufflepuffs…” Minerva muttered.

    Pomona turned to face Minerva. “What is that supposed to mean?”

    “Nothing,” replied Minerva.

    “You obviously have a problem with my House, Minerva,” she said. “What is it?”

    The atmosphere in the changing room froze. Bathsheba giggled nervously.

    “Well, Minerva,” said Pomona determinedly, “I’m waiting.”

    “Ladies, ladies,” broke in Charity. “I’m sure Minerva meant nothing.”

    “Charity, I can fight my own battles, thank you,” declared Minerva. She looked Pomona straight in the eye. “You Hufflepuffs are always trying to smooth things over. Sometimes we need a damn good row to clear the air but you’re too scared of confrontation.”

    “How can a row solve anything?” Pomona asked calmly. “I always try to impress it upon my students that arguing can solve nothing. Civilized humans should be able to solve any issue with a reasoned, weighed conversation. Why, do Gryffindors think differently?”

    “Gryffindors are never afraid to fight for what they believe in!” Minerva shot angrily. This whole situation made her blood boil. She would jump off the Astronomy Tower before she would be told what to do by such a… Was “sissy” even the word?

    “Neither are my Hufflepuffs, but our main goal is peace and a friendly atmosphere.”

    “Ooh, what’s this?” a voice cackled, floating through the open door of the changing rooms. “Is Minnie and Pommy having a fight? Should Peevesy come and sort it out? Ooh Peevesy loves a fight, yes, he does!”

    “Peeves, I don’t think this is a good time,” Bathsheba whispered, nervously eyeing the poltergeist.

    “Not a good time? Not a good time!” Minerva shouted. “Of course it’s not a good time when a Hufflepuff is insulting my Gryffindors!”

    “Actually, Minerva, it was you who insulted my House!”

    “Ooh,” Peeves grinned in delight, “well, to help settle things, the Quidditch pitch is free!”

    “That will do, Peeves,” said the dulcet tones of Albus Dumbledore from outside the changing room. “Let the ladies out to practise. The match starts tomorrow, not today.”

    “Yes,” agreed Septima, “pull yourself together, you two. We have to practise.”

    “You’re a fine one to talk!” snorted Minerva. “If you hadn’t spent all morning watching a certain Remus Lupin from the stands, we might have been able to have a talk about tactics.”

    Outside the changing room, Snape turned to look at a blushing Remus.

    “How quaint, Lupin,” he said condescendingly. “You appear to have a fan.”


    The next morning brightened with a beautiful sunrise. The air was quite crisp for this time of the year, but it was clear; the perfect conditions for a Quidditch match.

    After the breakfast, the students rushed down to the pitch, trying to gather the best seats in the stands. They were all buzzing with excitement for this day’s match. Fred and George Weasley were busy taking some last-minute bets on which team would win.

    When Madam Hooch, the referee, walked onto the pitch, silence fell in the stands. Her words were clearly audible.

    “Captains, please shake your hands.”

    Minerva’s body gave a jolt, as if she were about to take the hand Severus held out, but she quickly regained composure, and Septima stepped forwards. No one missed the glare Hooch sent her.

    “I want a nice clean match now. And that means you Peeves.” The poltergeist blew a raspberry in her direction.

    “Mount your brooms.” Almost everyone took his or her places on their broomsticks.

    “And that means you, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves blew another raspberry, but mounted his broom.

    “Right!” The whistle blew, its shrill sound filling the air, starting the most memorable game Hogwarts ever saw.
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  7. #107
    Honigkuchenpferd Hufflepuff
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    Sorry for the double post. I present you chapter two:

    Chapter Two

    “Let’s play Quidditch,” shouted Lee Jordan from the commentary box. “And to start off, it’s Snape with the Quaffle. Oh, he’s dropped it.”

    “Greasy hands,” laughed Fred to George. They were sitting next to Lee and could be heard all over the stands. Snape glared at them.

    “And it’s McGonagall with the Quaffle, she passes to Sprout. Could this be the first goal?” said Lee with great gusto. “Oh, what a miss! Dumbledore was nowhere near that.”

    “That was an open goal, Pomona!” screeched Minerva.

    Pomona shot her a look of fury. Just you wait... she thought.

    The next time she had the Quaffle, Pomona deliberately ignored Minerva and raced towards the hoops. The older witch shouted for her to pass the Quaffle on, but Pomona didn’t listen. She would show Minerva that she could score.

    But she hadn’t paid attention to the opposing team. Both Severus and Filius came racing towards her, the former looking very determined to take the Quaffle.

    Pomona grabbed the red ball even tighter, and accelerated her broom. When she heard an ominous woosh behind her, she turned around and saw the one Bludger they were playing with rocket towards her.

    With a cry, Pomona dropped the Quaffle, throwing her broom out the way.

    “I told you to pass!” Minerva flew up to the other witch, as the men took possession.

    “Well, I didn’t,” Pomona answered, shortly.

    “But you missed it again! What’s the point in being on the team if you can’t even play?”

    “Stop it! Stop it! STOP THE GAME!” the woman screeched, zooming back towards the game, her face red with anger. The other players on the pitch flew down to join her, all wearing looks of bewilderment on their faces, as a whistle sounded in the air.

    “Sprout has called for a time-out,” commented Lee. “I wonder if she’s hurt?”

    “I am not hurt!” yelled Pomona to the assembled players. “I just refuse to play with this...this...HARPIE any longer."

    “Dear lady,” said Albus soothingly, “what on earth do you mean?”

    “She means me, Albus,” declared Minerva stridently, “and I refuse to play with this nincompoop. She doesn’t even understand tactics.”

    “Well,” said Septima slyly. “Why don’t we do a swap? Pomona could exchange with...uh...Remus, perhaps.”

    “,” stuttered Remus. “I’m the Seeker. Pomona will have to swap with Severus or Filius.”

    Severus glared at the Headmaster. “I’m not going to swap the team. Besides, I’m the Captain.” He looked at Filius.

    “I don’t mind,” the smaller wizard said and walked over to the witches’ team.

    Pomona changed the sides as well, walking over to where Remus stood, her face still flushed with anger. She didn’t spare a look at Minerva.

    “Well, if everything is settled and revolved, can we continue the match?” Madam Hooch asked.

    Albus clapped into his hands. “Excellent idea, my dear,” he exclaimed enthusiastically.

    When the players kicked off again, Lee’s voice commented surprised:

    “What’s this? The players have taken off again, but nothing seems to have changed. How odd. After a heated discussion down on the ground, the teams have come back with no more complaints. Well then, back to the match. Snape in possession. He’s flying down the pitch, avoiding a well aimed Bludger from Babbling. Passes to…” Lee paused.

    “Well, look at this, Ladies and Gents. It appears that something did happen down there. It seems to me that Sprout has swapped sides. I don’t think anything like this has ever happened before. Professor Sprout is now playing for the men, everyone!”

    “Okay, Pomona,” said Severus condescendingly. “You’re playing on the winning team now, so follow my lead and you’ll soon be scoring goals.”

    Pomona gritted her teeth. Holy Helga’s, he’s as bad as Minerva! she thought. “Just give me that Quaffle, Severus, and watch me fly!” she snarled.

    “Snape to Sprout and back to Snape,” said Lee to the crowd. “The men...err and woman are flying superbly. Look at Sprout’s speed. Will this be the first goal?”

    “Hit a Bludger at her, Bathsheba,” ordered Minerva.

    “Sorry, what did you say?” said Bathsheba, who was gazing at an interesting cloud.

    “HIT THE BLUDGER AT HER!” Minerva roared, unable to keep her temper at bay. “This…turncoat is going to score, and, as luck would have it, she will score as a member of opposing team! Come on, you can stop her!”

    “But Minerva, dear, I hardly could…” Before Bathsheba could finish, there was the unmistakable ding that accompanied goals.

    “Well done, Professor Sprout!” Lee Jordan exclaimed. “That was an excellent goal! Nice and clean, and almost saved, but you scored!”

    Minerva could not believe it. She watched Remus and Albus clap Pomona on her shoulder. What was this game turning into?

    The wind in my hair, the breeze on my face and the sun warming my back. When was the last time I flew like this? I can’t remember. That’s the honest answer. I don’t have a clue when the last time I soared over the stand, squinting for signs of gold, was. Probably sometime back in my seventh year, all those years ago.


    Pulled out of his reverie by Severus yelling in his direction, Remus followed his pointed finger. And there was Peeves. Gleefully whacking a Bludger towards Aurora, full speed, and chasing gold.

    The Bludger hit her shoulder.

    “Are you all right, Aurora?” said Remus in concern. He slowed up to check on her.

    “CATCH THAT SNITCH, LUPIN!” yelled Severus, almost spitting with rage.

    “She’s hurt,” explained Remus calmly. “I’m not going after the Snitch if she’s hurt. It’s not chivalrous.”

    “Merlin’s Beard! Can’t you for once forget about your ridiculous Gryffindor chivalry? No wonder Gryffindor are a bunch of losers!”

    Remus got annoyed. “I don’t remember us coming off worse to a bunch of Slytherins, either on or off the field, Snape! James had a particularly good record as Captain.”

    Severus glared in a menacing way that would have let everyone shy away from him immediately. “Oh, Saint Potter it is again,” he said sarcastically.

    But Remus didn’t back off. Contrariwise, he opened his mouth to phrase a response, but Albus went in-between.

    “Please, Severus, Remus, no quarrels. This shall be a peaceful day and event, for the sake of our students.”

    Madam Hooch, who had been seeing to it that Aurora wasn’t hurt too badly, came over and asked, “Is everything all right? Can we continue playing or do you need another time-out?”

    “Time out? No! I do not need a time out. Lupin, however, could do with a lot more than just a time out!”

    “And what’s that supposed to mean? Is this all because you’re jealous of the fact that James was better than you?”

    “This has nothing to do with that idiot, Potter! Why is he being brought into this? It’s about your lack of Quidditch skills. Not your friend’s records! Fine, I’ll admit he could play. But the Snitch was in your face, and you let it go!”

    “SHE WAS HURT!” Remus roared.

    “IT’S QUIDDITCH!” Severus hollered over him.


    “Now that,” said Ron as he helped himself to Hermione’s Chocolate Frogs, “is one fight I’d like to see.”

    “What on earth do you mean, Ron?” said Hermione.

    “Lupin against Snape! It’s better than the match. They’ve been playing for ages and Sprout’s the only one who’s scored.”

    “Lupin should have caught that Snitch,” complained Harry. “If that’d been me, Oliver would have done his nut.”

    “I’m not complaining,” replied Ron. “I just think watching the professors, rather than the game, is more fun.”

    “Especially,” said Hermione giggling, “if you watch Professor Vector. She can’t take her eyes off Lupin.”


    Hermione was quite right. Septima was entranced by the way Lupin shot in and out of the game in search for the Snitch. She couldn’t explain it even to herself, but every time he was around, she would find it hard to concentrate on anything else. A shrill voice told her to get back to the game, or else…well, never mind that now. Minerva’s threats could wait.


    Minerva herself was mentally ripping her hair out. How could any Captain worthy of the name be as stupid as to gawk at the opposing team’s Seeker? Septima clearly didn’t understand the stakes.

    She would have to show the younger witch what real leadership meant. But first, she needed to make sure that neither Severus nor Pomona got near the goal hoops.

    But as it momentarily looked like, the other team was busy with shouting themselves hoarse.

    “Honestly, Lupin, you need to focus,” Severus said.

    “I was focused, on Aurora –”

    “Yes, and that’s the problem.”

    “Gentlemen, please –” Albus said, trying to stop the quarrel. He didn’t have any luck at all because both continued arguing, as if he, Albus, had never said anything.

    It took Madam Hooch to resolve the situation.

    “What sort of example is this to set to your students?” shouted Madam Hooch commandingly.

    “He started it,” said Severus, waspishly.

    “No, you started it,” shouted Remus. “You had a go at James and Gryffindor!”

    “You got that idiot, Longbottom, to dress me up in his grandmother’s clothes!” yelled Severus.

    “It was a Boggart, you prat! Oh, I’ve had enough of this. Albus, I’m not playing with this idiot anymore!”

    “Good, because I don’t want you here either. Swap with Aurora.”

    “Brilliant, Remus. We’re on the same team,” whispered Septima in his ear.

    “Oh no,” groaned Remus to himself.

    “Septima Vector, get back by the goal this instant!”

    Rolling her eyes, the woman gave one last coy smile in Remus’s direction, before turning her broom back towards the posts, under Minerva’s watchful glare.

    “Well, after another swap, Lupin and Sinistra have now begun playing for the other teams. So it’s Flitwick with the Quaffle, and he’s speeding down the pitch. Who knew he could fly that fast?” Lee’s voice echoed through the stands.

    “Hit him, Peeves,” Severus ordered calmly, from his place beside his Beater.

    “Whoa! Nice hit from our very own poltergeist there.”

    Filius heard the black ball rush towards him. He turned around, his brain running wild with possible and – much more – impossible manoeuvres of how to avoid being hit.

    Having set his mind in seconds, Filius gulped and tightly closed his eyes. He grabbed the handle of his broom and let himself roll over, doing a perfect loop in mid-air. The Bludger whizzed by without coming near enough to hurt him.

    But now he had a problem: How was he going to get back into an upright position? He already felt the blood rushing into his head, obscuring his sight.

    Filius spun round, his head a blur. Suddenly, a hand reached over and pulled him upright.

    “Thanks, Aurora,” he murmured, “I thought I was a goner!”

    “Don’t mention it,” she said then flew off in search of the Snitch.

    Rejuvenated, Flitwick sped towards the goal. He could hear the cheers of his Ravenclaw House urging him on to glory.

    No-one can stop me! he thought, then he lifted his hand and threw with all his might into the far hoop.

    “That’s the wrong goal, you idiot,” roared Minerva. “You’ve just scored for the other team.”

    It appeared that Minerva was the only one who cared, however. Remus was flying around, looking for the Snitch. Inside, though, he was still seething, and anyone could tell he wasn’t paying attention. Bathsheba was busy; half-heartedly wrestling an excited Peeves for the Bludger. Charity was watching their own offensive Chaser, amusement clearly written all over her face. Septima was still staring at Remus.

    “Well, after that err…interesting goal by Flitwick, it’s Snape in possession, and tearing down the pitch.”

    “Well, it’s Peeves in possession. Hey, could anyone tell me when Peeves became a Chaser? Nope, reprimanded by Hooch.”

    “PEEVES! YOU ARE NOT A CHASER, YOU ARE A BEATER, YOU IDIOT!” Snape almost fell off his broom while screaming at Peeves, who cackled so hard that he turned upside down.

    “Sorry, Your Captaincy! Peeves is just trying to have some fun!” the poltergeist choked through laughter.

    Minerva watched the scene in disbelief. What’s more, all the other players, with the notable exception of Snape, were laughing almost as hard as Peeves himself. The stands were roaring with mirth, Fred and George clapping enthusiastically.

    “That does it!” she yelled, unable to bear it any longer. “Everyone, back to your duty!”

    Rolanda Hooch watched as Minerva started ordering all the players back to their posts.

    Really, she thought, that woman has no idea how to lead.

    She smiled grimly to herself. She was still annoyed that none of the witches had thought to ask her to be on their team. They obviously didn’t consider her to be a proper member of staff whereas the men had asked Peeves.

    She blew her whistle. “Minerva, stop yelling at everyone or I’ll order a penalty against your team. For Godric’s sake, this is supposed to be FUN.”

    “You tell her, Rolanda,” shouted Pomona.

    “Meanie meanie Minnie.
    She can’t have any fun.
    And that’s why nobody likes her.
    Not nobody under the sun!” Peeves cackled, and after blowing a raspberry at the Transfiguration Mistress, he flew to the safety of the opposite end of the pitch.

    Under normal circumstances, everyone would have laughed. But this time, the look on Minerva’s face, silenced all but one.

    “SEPTIMA VECTOR!” she roared. “You don’t have time to laugh at such comments. You should instead spend your time attempting to lead this mess, and gain our victory!”


    “OOH! Vector’s face!” giggled Hermione, wearing a half scandalised expression.

    Harry and Ron were both laughing openly, as were other students sitting around them.

    “Well, Hermione,” Ron said, wiping away tears, “you have to admit it’s really funny to watch our teachers play Quidditch.”

    “Yeah,” Dean agreed. “It’s better than the usual Quidditch matches between the houses.”

    “I didn’t say it was not funny,” Hermione explained herself.

    Harry exclaimed, “Oh, look at Snape glaring at Peeves, or McGonagall’s sour face. It’s priceless!” Professor Snape flew to Peeves to give the poltergeist a piece of his mind.

    At this moment, another commentary from Lee grabbed the students’ full attention once more.

    “And while Snape is shouting at his Beater,” said Lee, “he seems to have forgotten that the Quaffle is loose. It’s McGonagall to Burbage and back to McGonagall. Can she get past Dumbledore?”

    Severus whipped his head round only to see the look of triumph on Minerva’s face as she threw the Quaffle under Albus’ legs and into the middle hoop.

    She turned to Severus and smiled condescendingly.

    “You see, Severus, that’s what a Chaser’s supposed to do.”

    Then she flew to her Captain.

    “Leading by example, Septima,” she said. “I appear to be doing the Captain’s job too.”

    Septima shrugged.

    “It’s a game, Minerva. We are simply playing a game for fun. It’s not supposed to be competitive like that. You are overreacting.”

    Minerva opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. She simply stared at Septima, unable to believe that a Captain could care so little.


    Septima grasped her broom very tightly. The game seemed almost paused around them.

    “If you’re so eager to win, why don’t you just go ahead and shoot some goals then instead of commandeering people around?” Septima shot back, irritated.

    Minerva’s face flushed red; not with embarrassment, but anger. “IF YOU HAD JUST PAID ATTENTION TO THE GAME, THEN YOU’D HAVE NOTICE ME SCORING!”

    Surprise etched into Septima’s face. “You scored?” She swivelled around and looked at the points display in the commentary box.

    “It seems there are some difficulties between the star Chaser and the Captain of the witches’ team,” Lee commented cheerfully.

    Whistling loudly, Madam Hooch flew over to the trouble-making pair.

    “Minerva McGonagall,” said Madam Hooch in a low voice. “I have already warned you about this aggressive behaviour. Do you want me to award a penalty to the other team or not?”

    “Oh, so it’s all my fault,” screeched Minerva. “Just because I’m trying to play properly! I’ve got a Captain all dewy eyed over our new Seeker, a turncoat of a friend who switched sides and scored and now part timer...tell me you’ll award a penalty against my team.”

    Madam Hooch blew her whistle.


    Septima groaned loudly, and glared at Minerva.

    “See? See? See, what you’ve done! This is your fault, Minerva. Maybe if you had just kept your mouth shut. But oh no, you have to have a jab at everyone…”

    With one last glare, she flew back to her post, just as Madame Hooch blew her whistle.

    With an evil smile on his face, Severus Snape took hold of the Quaffle.

    “Teamwork now! Go!” Septima called, in a rare moment, showing her leading abilities.

    With a determined look in her eyes, Bathsheba smashed her bat into the Bludger.

    The black ball raced towards Severus with a speed that made it impossible for the Potions Master to dodge it. He got hit full on by the Bludger in the chest. Severus dropped the red Quaffle, and just managed to grab the handle of his broom before falling off. He still lost height, though, but could steady his broom before hitting the ground. Severus tried to hide the tears of pain that threatened to fall, but he suppressed them successfully. However, he was ashen, and breathing hurt like hell.

    Above him, he heard Madam Hooch’s whistle, followed by her shout:

    “FOUL!” shouted Madam Hooch. “It is not permissible to fire a Bludger at the opposing Chaser when he’s taking a penalty! I award two penalties to Severus Snape.”

    She turned to Snape who was still red in the face. “Severus, are you able to continue?”

    His eyes glittered. “Just watch me, Rolanda.”


    “Oh good Godric, I’ve always wanted to do that,” chortled Ron. He turned to Hermione who was giving him a disapproving look.

    “He’s really hurt, Ronald,” she said sharply.

    “Not half as hurt as Vector and Babbling are gonna be when McGonagall’s finished with them,” said Harry.

    Hermione gave them what was supposed to be a disapproving look. However, it was ruined by the amusement shining through her eyes.


    “WHY DID YOU HIT THAT BLUDGER?” Minerva roared.

    “S-s-Septima told m-me to.” Bathsheba cowered before the older woman.

    “Septima! That woman again!”

    “And what is wrong with me now, Minerva?” Spetima’s face was white, and she looked angry enough to snap her broom in half.


    “What? How dare you –?”

    “Oh, yes, I dare. From now on I will be the Captain of this team.”

    Minerva’s statement was followed by a momentary silence that covered the pitch and stands like a blanket.

    “Dear audience,” Lee’s voice soon resounded, “we have another surprise in this game. The witches have just changed Captains.”

    Septima’s face was flustered. “I quit!” she suddenly shouted, steering her broom towards the ground.

    “My dear, how about you and I change positions?” Albus asked before she could get off her broom.

    Surprise was etched into Severus’ face when looking at the Headmaster.

    “B-but Albus,” he said, “why are you swapping? If she quits, then the witches lose their advantage of the extra player.”

    “Let’s not be unsporting,” said Pomona suddenly. She whispered in Severus’ ear, “Severus, if we let them swap, then we get a young Keeper, who did play for Ravenclaw, whereas Minerva gets...”

    Severus smiled sardonically. “We accept! Septima, welcome to the team.”

    The two Keepers flew to the opposite ends of the pitch and began guarding their new hoops.

    “So,” said Lee, “there are now three wizards on the witches’ team and three witches on the wizards’ team.”

    Severus took the Quaffle, and zooming forwards, hurled it towards the centre hoop.

    “HE SHOOTS! AND HE SCO- oh! Nice block by Dumbledore. Who would have thought he had such skills?”

    Minerva grinned wickedly. Now that they had finally dropped Septima, the winds were on their side.

    “Next penalty! To be taken by Sprout.”

    Pomona grimaced. Albus hadn’t had many chances to show his skills, as yet, in the game. So she was rather afraid she had underestimated his talents.

    Like her partner she aimed for the centre hoop.

    Minerva smiled. She had thrown it right into Albus’s open arms.

    Disappointed at her bad luck, Pomona whizzed off, closely followed by Severus.

    “Pomona, I want a word…”

    Five minutes later, Madam Hooch blew her whistle once more. “And now, stop the blames and play,” she said, shooting a look at Septima and Pomona, and another one, pointed and slightly longer, at Minerva.

    The Transfiguration professor wanted to respond something, but she closed her mouth again when Charity nudged her gently. “Let it drop, Minerva. Just let’s play the best we can.”

    Taking a deep breath, Minerva agreed. “Right. Let’s win this baby then.” Her eyes gleamed enthusiastically.
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  8. #108
    Honigkuchenpferd Hufflepuff
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    Jun 2008
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    Triple posting for chapter three - my team has just been so creative...

    Chapter Three

    Septima sighed. Demoted from Captain and now playing on the opposing team from Remus, she knew her chances with him were getting slimmer by the minute.

    “Cheer up, Septima,” said Aurora, as she flew past on a search for the Snitch. “At least we’re not playing for that Banshee anymore.” She paused. “I bet that whatever happens we’ll end up having a drink at Rosmerta’ never know, Remus might come along.”

    Septima smiled gratefully. She began thinking about that new robe in her closet. Lost in her thoughts, she failed to see Charity bearing down on her.

    Charity carried on charging forwards. She had already passed the test of the Bludger. Which was not an easy feat with Peeves. She had passed the test of the other Chasers. Which was also not an easy job, with Severus swooping down on you like a bat. Hell! She had even passed the test of her own team. And there was nothing harder than that, when Minerva was your captain.

    “Well then, she’s gotten this far, but do you think Burbage will manage to score? Only one way to find out.”

    Hearing Lee’s voice, Septima snapped out of her trance.

    “Oh!” She just noticed Charity speeding towards her, Quaffle in hand. The Chaser had successfully passed all the lines of defense; it was just her and Septima now. The Keeper stiffened. This was the hardest part about this match; Charity was her friend, after all. How many conversations they had in the staff room over a steaming cup of tea? No, scratch that, she thought. This is a game, we’ll laugh about it afterwards. Tensing up, the witch prepared to save the goal. After carefully observing Charity’s trajectory, Septima had no trouble in saving the goal.

    Now she saves a goal, thought Minerva, ruefully, then she sighed. This game really was not going according to plan. But then her plan had been to be Captain from the beginning and once and for all wipe that supercilious smirk off Severus Snape’s face.

    Am I too competative? she mused. Then she saw Oliver Wood in the stands. He was staring intently at her, urging her on to victory.

    “I request a time out, Rolanda,” she called.

    “Oh good Godric,” said Remus to himself, “what is she planning now?”

    However, he was surprised at the tone of her words.

    “Well…” Minerva began; she felt awkward. But if she didn’t want to lose the trust of her team, she needed to start making amends. “I have to apologise. I was a bit bossy the last… minutes.”

    The team members looked at each other. They hadn’t thought that Minerva would say something like that.

    “I guess I forgot that this game was set to have fun – for us as well as our students. I… just wanted to win against Severus. But really, I didn’t want to make enemies amongst my colleagues.”

    “Hear, hear,” Filius shouted, smiling widely. Albus nodded in agreement.

    All the teachers gathered around Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall. A hush fell over the stadium, as all the students were craning their necks, trying to hear…

    “Oh, Minerva,” Charity said, stretching her arm to pat Minerva’s back.

    “I apologize to all of you,” Minerva repeated. “I suppose I forgot that good sportsmanship, good…teamwork is what makes a good Quidditch game.”

    “It’s okay,” Septima said, looking directly into Minerva’s eyes. “I understand. Striving to be better, we unknowingly strive to be the best. Now then,” she added briskly, “are we going to mope some more, or play the game?”

    “That was a nice speech, Septima,” remarked Remus. “And a superb save from Charity. Well done.”

    Septima blushed. “Thank you, Remus. You’re having a good game too.”

    “Not really,” he muttered. “There’s not much to do when you’re a Seeker until the Snitch appears.”

    “Will you join us in The Three Broomsticks for a drink, tonight?” she asked. “It’s not just me, Charity and Aurora will be there too.”

    He looked into her hopeful face. Maybe, just maybe it would be fun.

    “Yeah,” he replied. “That sounds good.”


    Rolling her eyes at Remus about Severus’ attitude, Septima grabbed her broom and took off into the air once more. Remus smiled and mirrored her actions.

    The game was now much calmer in regards to hostilities between each team member, but the moves had gained a sharpness that brought back the suspense of who in the end would be the glorious victor.

    Currently, it was Minerva who sped down the pitch, the Quaffle held tight in her hand. Filius and Charity flew with her, catching her passes and handing the red ball over if an opposing Chaser came towards them.

    Septima grasped the handle of her broom tightly. Remus was watching her, and it wouldn’t do her any good to muck up.

    Minerva grimaced. Now that everyone was getting along again, they were working much better as team. But she still had to win against Severus Snape. Pulling her arm back, she prepared to hurl the Quaffle.

    Peeves was sulking. Now that everyone had stopped arguing, the game had quickly got boring. Sometimes hitting things just wasn’t enough. He needed to cause mayhem. He wanted to see some chaos. Watching Minerva, he grinned as he spotted his chance.

    “Peevesey likes Quidditch!” he cackled. “Peevesey want to score. Oh yes! But Peevesey’s not allowed to score. Mister Snape told him that. Peevesey has to hit Bludgers and so he will.”

    He launched his Bludger at the flying Minerva. She heard but could not see the black ball. Instinctively, remembering her Quidditch playing days of yesteryear when she’d been the star Chaser of Gryffindor, she hurled the Quaffle into Septima’s left hoop.

    “She scores!” shouted Lee, then he gasped in horror as she swerved too late to avoid Peeves’ Bludger. It skimmed her shoulder and she began to fall.

    Gasps and shouts filled the stadium. Hundreds of students got up from the banks to look where their Transfiguration professor was falling to the ground. Several of the older students drew their wands, pointing them at the field in the hope of getting the old witch levitated before she hit the ground.

    “Nobody panic!” Albus’ voice sounded around the pitch and the stands. He himself had taken out his wand, pointing it at his colleague. Relieved to see the witch unhurt and being levitated to the ground, the students calmed down once more.

    Thank God, Septima thought.

    “Poppy! Over here!” she yelled out to Madam Pomfrey, pointing to the spot on the ground Minerva gently landed on. All the players descended and surrounded the limp body, faces pale with concern.

    “No crowding, please! Let Poppy through! Give Minerva some air,” Dumbledore was heard giving calm instructions to the frightened group of teachers.

    Madam Pomfrey got to her patient just as the fallen witch regained her ability to speak.

    “I’m fine, Poppy, don’t fuss! There’s nothing the matter with me, just let me get up and…”

    She was cut off by Madam Pomfrey pressing her to the ground.

    “Minerva, listen to me,” ordered Poppy. “You may have landed safely but I bet you a Galleon to Knut that your shoulder’s broken.”

    Minerva sighed. “I want to play on,” she cried in frustration.

    “Minerva, no one doubts your courage or your skill but do you want to be known as foolhardy?” asked Albus.

    Minerva blinked back the tears. She could see her students watching her and caught the worried frown on Harry’s face. Then she remembered Harry breaking his arm last year.

    “Okay, Poppy,” she agreed. “I’ll come with you. Just don’t do a Lockhart and remove my bones!”

    Away from the crowd hovered Peeves, cackling mirthfully. He was doubled over in laughter; the stern and reproachful looks the Headmaster and Potions Master sent him could not stop his laughing.

    “PEEVES!” Rolanda then shouted, grabbing her whistle and marching towards where the poltergeist hovered shortly above the pitch’s ground. “You’ve intentionally hurt one of the players. Penalty shot for the witches’ team.”

    “What?” Severus asked, walking towards the referee. “He didn’t want to hit Minerva but the Quaffle.”

    Rolanda’s mind was set. “Don’t argue with me, Severus, or there’ll be another penalty.”

    Severus gnashed his teeth but remained silent.

    Severus turned around in disgust; not wanting to watch any points scored for Minerva of all people, and frowned at his Beater. Grinning like a madman, Peeves was still doubled over laughing, nearly falling off of his broom. Not that it would matter, Severus thought sourly. The idiot can fly anyway.

    Almost as if to prove that point, Peeves gave a final loud cackle, and threw himself over the side of his broom. Instead of falling to the floor, though, he instead floated where he had fallen off, and knelt there, as though on solid ground.

    “Great manoeuvre by Peeves, there,” shouted Lee, as the crowd erupted in applause. “What a pity he’s dropped his broom, though as that appears to be landing right on...OOOP’s...right on Snape’s head!”

    Severus shook his fist at the poltergeist who flew round the stadium cackling and blowing raspberries at his Captain. The Potions Master could hear the Weasley twins roaring with laughter and vowed to double their homework. He flew over to Septima who was trying not to hide a smirk.

    “Just make sure you save this penalty, Septima,” he said. “I don’t like losing.”

    The Arithmancy professor positioned herself in front of her hoops, the handle of her broom grabbed tightly. I must not fail, she reprimanded herself, repeating the words over and over again. It was like a mantra.

    Charity was going to take the penalty. She eyed the three hoops carefully, making a decision. Speeding up her broom and taking aim, she threw the ball towards the left hoop.

    Septima noticed the ball’s direction, and steered to where she thought the Quaffle would go through. She hoped to be able to catch it in time to prevent the other team from scoring.

    It was like a race to the hoop. The Quaffle speeding in from one direction, Septima speeding from another.

    The crowd were on the edges of their seats. The players leaning over their brooms, except for Peeves who had yet to collect his. Even Lee was silent.

    The Quaffle moved ever closer to the hoops, whilst Septima moved ever closer to the Quaffle. Her arms were outstretched, and even her fingers seemed to be straining to reach the red ball.

    It was the crucial moment. The one which decided if Charity scored, or if Septima made a magnificently close save.

    “And it’s a GOAAAAAAAL!” shouted Lee. “It’s 30 plays 20 and still no sign of the Snitch.”

    “What in the name of Merlin do you call that?” said Severus sharply. “We’re losing now, Septima. I thought you used to play.”

    “I did, Severus,” she replied waspishly. “But in my team we had decent players.”

    “Meaning what, exactly?” said Severus coldly.

    “Well, I remember you from school,” she replied. “You couldn’t get into the Slytherin team because you kept falling off your broom. In fact, I’d love to see how you’re staying on today. Is it a sticking charm?”

    Severus got annoyed. His coal eyes tightened. “Stop it or…”

    “Or what?”

    He opened his mouth to respond, but a magnified gasp from Lee brought both their attentions towards the happenings on the pitch: Remus and Aurora were both flying towards something small and shiny – the Golden Snitch.

    “It looks like the game’s soon going to end when one of them catches the Snitch,” Lee commented enthusiastically. The students of all the Houses cheered, some even jumping up and down in excitement.

    “Catch that ball, Sinistra!” Severus shouted, steering his broom towards the centre of action. Filius did the same.

    Pomona looked up in surprise, as she watched her shorter colleague rush past her. In the midst of the excitement, he dropped the Quaffle.

    Her eyes lighting up at the chance, she dove downwards, and unnoticed by anyone, stole the Quaffle from the air.

    Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that not one person had looked from the Seekers, and no one had seen.

    Turning forward, she saw Albus. The last line of defense. The final man she must pass. Narrowing her eyes, she headed towards him, revelling in the fact, that he too, was absorbed in the action.

    Her blood was churning. Never before had she been so excited. As she approached the hoops, a guilty, but triumphant thought came into her head. See, Minerva? I can play well, it doesn’t matter what you think. Pomona instantly berated herself for thinking that way. Minerva lay on a stretcher many feet below; she did not deserve to be blamed for her desire to win…

    What are you thinking, silly? Score already! Pomona was angry with herself now. There’s Albus, fascinated with…something, there are the unprotected hoops, and here is a Chaser, daydreaming. The witch threw the Quaffle and scored.

    “What a fantastic goal,” shouted Lee. “But what’s happening now? Lupin and Sinistra are closing in on something. Is it the Snitch?”

    Remus was just in the lead but Aurora was drawing closer, ever closer to him and the Snitch. He held out his arm but the slight hand of the Astronomy professor pushed him aside. The Snitch stayed tantalizingly out of reach as both Seekers tried to make the catch.

    Then, suddenly, Remus lurched forwards, and as he did so, the Snitch moved to within his grasp. Aurora moved at the same time and both grabbed at the Snitch.

    “The Snitch is caught!” Lee’s voice reverberated through the stands and over the pitch. “But who caught it? It was tied in scoring, 30 to 30. And as we all know, the team that caught the Snitch wins. So, who was there first? Professor Lupin or Professor Sinistra?”

    Had the crowd been cheering up until then, it was now deathly silent.

    Rolanda Hooch flew over to where the teachers slowly sank down. “Let me through, please. We must determine who caught the Snitch.”

    Albus had landed, too, and was already walking up to the two Seekers. “May I, please?”

    Silently, Rolanda took the Snitch, and passed it over to the Headmaster, who in turn tapped it with his wand.

    “If you wouldn’t mind.” He held it out for one of the two Seekers to take it. “Whoever caught this Snitch, will cause it to glow briefly. Remus, if you please.”

    Remus took hold of the Snitch, and looked slightly disappointed when nothing happened. Resignedly he chucked it in the air, for Aurora to catch.

    With a knowing smile, Aurora caught hold of the tiny golden ball. Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen.

    The ball didn’t glow. Aurora turned to Albus in astonishment. “H-how can this be?” she said. “It has to be one of us.”

    Albus smiled and his blue eyes sparkled with delight. “It seems, dear lady, as if something quite momentous, yet quite apt has occurred.” He turned to Remus. “Give me your hand. I want to try something.”

    Slowly, Remus held out his hand. Albus clasped it to Aurora’s and then placed the Snitch in the middle of their hands. At once the Snitch began to glow.

    “It’s a DRAW!” cried Albus to the amazement of the assembled professors.

    Silence had settled over the pitch, but someone whispered, “A draw?” It was as if this one word had sparked an avalanche; incredulous exclamations and questions ran up and down the stands.

    “This is the first time I experience a tie in Quidditch,” Lee commented. “30 to 30 through scoring, and both Seekers catching the Snitch at the same time. Who would’ve thought that was going to happen today?”

    Minerva walked up to Severus after having been tended to and held out her hand for him. “We win and lose at the same time. But it was a good game.”

    The students applauded their favourite professors as they whizzed past on their laps of honour. Then they landed gracefully on the ground and began congratulating each other.

    Remus found himself next to Septima. She looked up at him and smiled. For once she’d lost the predatory gleam in her eye.

    She’s quite pretty, really, he thought, and a drink in the Three Broomsticks with everyone could be just what we all need.

    “Let’s celebrate tonight, everyone,” he shouted. “Three Broomsticks at eight o’clock. What do you say, Severus?”

    Everyone was silent as they waited for Severus Snape’s reply.

    Severus looked around at the other teachers’ hopeful faces. He wanted nothing more than to squash them all. Especially that witch Minerva, whose hand he had just been forced to shake.

    “I’m afraid-” he began.

    “What a wonderful idea, Severus, I am so glad you agree,” interrupted Albus, sending the Potions Master a warning glance.

    “Well, I have time for one drink…” Severus glared at the Headmaster, loathing written all over his face.

    The other teachers all smiled, and engaged in individual conversations once more. Except Severus, who wanted nothing more than to strangle whoever came up with this idea.


    After dinner, the teachers went down to Hogsmeade for a drink. Charity and Septima chattered animatedly all the way, while Minerva had a whispered discussion with Albus. Severus walked behind the group, his only company Hagrid who had bothered to bring Fang, his big dog.

    “Yeh know, ‘twas an interestin’ match today,” Hagrid rumbled in his accent.

    Severus didn’t care to reply. He honestly wished he could have stayed behind to read some book or grade the students’ homework. But no… Albus just had to have the wit to silence me before I could decline, he sneered in his mind.

    Still, Albus was the Headmaster, and Severus respected that. However, why he had to endure Hagrid’s ramble, he had no idea. As if that match wasn’t humiliating enough…


    Charity and Septima were having the time of their lives. Both liked to discuss Quidditch matches they had just seen; it was a given that they had to discuss one they actually played in. They laughed about some of the goals; Charity remarked on the number of times she thought she’d drop the Quaffle altogether. Septima was giggling about the students’ cheers she had heard during the game; some students were creative…

    “Those Weasley twins were naughty,” said Septima giggling. “I swear they were chanting ‘shampoo’ everytime Severus went past.”

    “Poor Severus,” sighed Charity. "It’s a shame he doesn’t want to be here with us. He played well today.”

    “Charity Burbage, you’re not harbouring romantic thoughts about Severus, are you?” said her friend aghast.

    “You’re a fine one to talk, Septima,” said Charity in mock outrage. "You could barely play for gazing all moonstruck at our newest member of staff."

    They reached the door of the pub and walked in to see Albus already sitting in the corner with Severus and Remus.

    Scowling, Severus strode after his colleagues, Hagrid following close behind.

    “Severus!” Charity turned to greet him properly.

    “Charity.” He inclined his head towards her.

    “Severus, a pleasure as always.” Remus jumped at the chance to move further away from Septima, without appearing rude, and standing, held out his hand for the Potions Master to shake.

    Sneering at the hand held out, Severus ignored it, but took his seat beside Albus, and proceeded to look angry for the fact that he was forced there.

    “Really, Severus, must you sulk?” Albus peered over his half moon glasses. “You’re acting like a child.”

    “I’m not sulking –” Severus began, but the knowing gaze of the older wizard silenced him. He went to stare at his Firewhisky instead.

    “Pomona,” Minerva said at the other end of the table, “I need to apologise. I wasn’t very fair to you.”

    The Herbology professor shook her head. “I have to apologise to you, Minerva. I have been… too competitive for my own good.”

    “So forgiven and forgotten?”

    “Sure.” And both witches shook their hands in renewed friendship.

    A sudden clap of hands let everyone look up and towards Albus. “I’m so glad everything is now straightened out.”

    Albus picked up his drink. “Although I would like you, Severus, to accept the hand of friendship from Remus, here.”

    Severus gazed into the wise eyes of Albus and slowly held out his hand to Remus. Remus grasped it and solemnly, they shook hands under the eyes of everyone.

    Albus cleared his throat. “I wish to make a toast, a toast to you all, for although it may not have been the finest game of Quidditch Hogwarts has seen, it was certainly the funniest! A game that will be remembered warmly by all our students for many years to come.”

    Thank you to our lovely cheerleaders: Allie, Vicki, Josh, Terri, BB, Riham, Afifa and everyone I can't remember the name of. Also, many thanks to Terri and BB for checking this thread over more than once, helping us with betaing. *squishes awesome badgers*

    And last but not least:

    Never get in the way of badgers!

    The captain says thank you for an awesome November QWC round! Until then,

    No longer a mod and no longer in charge of any forums.

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