ambitious, cunning, adaptable | hp x dm

chapter seven: first quidditch game

Harry met with the rest of the team in the locker room, sitting nervously on one of the benches as Flint prowled around them like an angry bear. None of the other players looked particularly nervous - all of them had played the year before - and but instead looked fiercely excited.

"I know you lot are ready to go out and show those lions the new tricks we've learned." Filch growled out, and the team perked up and traded vicious looks. "But pull back this time, alright?" That earned him frowns and a few protests. "Oh, shut your damned mouths. It's only Gryffindor - I don't want you wasting our new strategies on such a pathetic team. They haven't won more than a game in a decade, and Wood's got more enthusiasm than brains. Best save our tricks for Ravenclaw - they've got a new Seeker as well, and she looks like she actually knows how to use her brain." That got him some snorts. Of course the Ravenclaw could fight smart. Flint frowned at them and they shut up. "Now go kick their asses! If you lot don't win by a landslide I will having you doing laps until you drop dead of exhaustion, you got that?" Cheers were his response and he motioned for them to line up.

Harry followed, silent and feeling sick, before Flint grabbed his shoulder and dragged him a couple of steps off. Looking him straight in the eye, Flint patted him on the shoulder like he was trying to comfort the smaller boy, but only succeeded in knocking him around a bit. "Potter, I'll be keeping a close eye on you. Can't have you messing up now, can we? Besides, those twins are going to be on your ass the entire time, and I didn't waste all that effort training you up just to have you broken in your first game." He patted Harry again and turned to join the rest of the team.

For a moment Harry stood there, wondering what this House was doing to him so that speech actually sounded comforting. Then his musings were interrupted by the sound of the team getting called out, and he ran to catch up, mounting his broom and soaring up. Nearly three quarters of the school seemed to be booing, having thrown their lot in with Gryffindor. However, he could see small pockets of cheers within the other Houses - Ron looked like he was carrying a small Slytherin flag, though it was nearly covered by the various red and gold items and clothing articles he had. He still gave a little wave, and the tiny flag got waggled at him in response.

Madame Hooch came out and gave a quick warning about fair play, directed near directly at Flint, who merely smirked at her and then Wood. Then the balls were released and Harry couldn't see anything but blurs of color. He tried to watch the snitch, ignoring the sound of Lee Jordan's commentary as the game began, but the little glint of gold quickly darted out of view.

He rose above the pitch, circling slowly, watching the game unravel in fascination. He'd seen pictures of the game, but nothing compared to the thrum of adrenaline and the graceful moves of the players in action. He saw Flint glare at him and focused back on his task, twisting this way and that as he searched for the Snitch.

The Gryffindor Seeker, a gangly brunette 5th year who looked too long for his broom, was tracking him, deciding it was easier to simply follow Harry than to try and find it on his own. The smaller boy thought about pointing out to him how utterly un-House-like that seemed, but figured his advice would only be sneered at. Instead he put on a burst of speed straight up, grinning as the other boy followed, and then did a tight loop and started going almost straight down, enjoying the feel of the forces at play and the whipping wind. The other Seeker tried to follow him, but just ended up nearly falling off his broom, and stayed a good bit farther away from Harry afterwards.

He could hear Jordan saying something about sneaky moves, but he wasn't sure if the boy was talking about him or another Slytherin and didn't really care. Instead he slowly tracked around the pitch, getting slightly frustrated at the lack of any sign of the ball. Of course, it was much harder to see it with all the motion distracting him, but normally he'd caught at least a hint of the thing before now.