The Big Match

Ron and Harry hurried into the dormitory and went to sit on their beds.

'You know, this is a pretty cowardly thing to do...' said Harry.

'Well, do you really want to be there when they find out about the team list? Because I for one...'

Ron was cut off by a roar of anger from the common room. He and Harry exchanged nervous glances. There was a pause, then a brief exchange of raised voices, and then they heard footsteps thundering up the stairs towards the dormitories.

A few moments later, Fred and George slammed in. George was waving the team list in his fist, and both twins were bright red.

'Did you know about this? Harry? DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?'

'I... I only just found out...' Harry stammered.

'They can't do this to us!' Fred cried.

'It's inhuman!' added George.

'It's unfair!'

'It's ridiculous!'

'What were they thinking?'

'How could they put Fred on the team and not me? How?!'

Both Fred and George sat heavily on Ron's bed, staring at the team list in George's hand, somewhat crumpled now.

'It's not right,' agreed Harry.

'Bang out of order,' Ron said.

'They're crazy to split you up,' said Harry.

'But, when you think about it,' said Ron, 'if you had both been on the team, that would mean there were three Gryffindors, and everyone would have complained.'

'So?' demanded George.

'Well, it is supposed to be encouraging the Houses to mix...'

Both twins glowered at Ron.

'Hey, I'm not saying I agree, that's just the way some people could see it,' said Ron.

'Well, they can stuff their Quidditch match, I didn't really want to play anyway,' said George, 'and Fred won't go on the team without me, will you?'

There was silence from Fred. He seemed to be inspecting Ron's quilt in minute detail.

'Fred...' said George, warningly.

'Look, just because we play Quidditch together normally doesn't mean we always have to...'

'But we do everything together! That's what twins means! How can you do it without me?'

'I just think it would be a laugh, that's all. We'll still be playing together in all the Interhouse matches.'

'I can't believe this. I honestly can't believe this... what happened to brotherly solidarity? What happened to loyalty?!'

'Look, Angelina and Katie and Alicia didn't get on the team, and they're not making all this fuss...'

'Angelina and Katie and Alicia aren't anyone's twin! I don't believe this, Fred. This is the ultimate betrayal.'

'Oh, don't be like that...' sighed Fred.

'Ron,' said George haughtily, 'could you please tell Fred that I'm not speaking to him anymore.'

'He's not...' began Ron, but George had already got up and stalked out of the dormitory.

Fred shrugged.

* * *

'But I don't want to be Seeker!'

Minerva McGonagall realised that she was gesticulating wildly and quickly lowered her hands to her lap. She was sitting in the Staff Room with Rolanda Hooch, and they were going over the team list.

'Rolanda, I thought you were going to be Seeker?' Minerva protested again, somewhat less stridently than before.

'Well, I know we said that at first, but you actually played Seeker at school and I never did. And, not to brag, but I am a better Chaser than you, and goodness knows we need a good Chaser to balance out poor Filius and Irma...'

'Well then, can't someone else be Seeker, apart from me?'

'Think about it, Minerva. Remus and Severus are the only ones who have any experience as Beaters. I've seen Pomona play Seeker and she's dreadful. And Irma and Filius, let's face it, are just filling the numbers. So that leaves you and me, and like I said, I need to be a Chaser if we're to have any chance of not looking like total fools.'

'Oh, well, you won't look like a fool, will you? Because you're not going to be marking the bloody Boy Who Lived, Youngest Seeker of the Century! I won't have a chance, Rolanda! I'm just going to embarrass myself, I know it.'

'That's not the way to approach it, Minerva! Positive mental attitude, that's what you need. If you train right and don't worry so much, I'll bet you could show young Harry a thing or two. You just need to be properly motivated.'

Minerva rolled her eyes.

'Alright, since you've obviously got this all worked out, I'll do it. But, Rolanda, you don't seriously think we have a chance, do you? You do realise that the whole point of the exercise is to let the students beat us? There's no way we'll win - they're young and in peak physical condition!'

'Age and experience can win over youthful enthusiasm!' cried Rolanda. 'All you need is a bit of faith!'

'Nonsense! They're obviously going to beat us. We might as well be resigned, and just do our best to retain some shred of dignity on the day.'

Rolanda frowned. This would not do.

* * *

The mood at the Gryffindor table as Harry, Hermione and assorted Weasleys sat down to breakfast was rather subdued. Fred and George were sitting as far away from one another as they possibly could. Ron and Harry didn't want to say anything for fear of sparking off another argument. Ginny was her usual, quiet self. Hermione, however, was not to be daunted by awkward silences.

'So, is anyone thinking of doing something for the entertainments on the day of the Quidditch match?'

Harry and Ron both winced, but neither Fred nor George reacted.

'I was thinking about it,' said Ginny.

'Ooh, me too,' said Hermione, 'what were you thinking of doing?'

'I'm not really sure yet - something fun, and different. How about you?'

'Well,' Hermione said, 'I was thinking about demonstrating some of the trickier potions that people seem to fail at again and again, and maybe I could help people get better marks in Potions!'

'And how is that "entertainment"?' asked Ron, stabbing his soldier violently into his egg.

'Well, it's certainly more entertaining than failing!' said Hermione, with a scowl.

'So, Ron, are you going to do anything?' asked Ginny, neatly stopping the quarrel before it had a chance to begin.

'Hadn't really thought,' Ron shrugged, 'I doubt it. Seems like too much hard work.'

Hermione tutted.

'You're Harry Potter, aren't you?' said a voice from behind them.

They turned around to see a girl, somewhat short, with a rather large nose and two long, honey-coloured pigtails hanging down her back. She was wearing a Ravenclaw uniform and chewing on a piece of toast.

'Yes,' said Harry, 'and you are..?'

'Tilly Luker. You know? I'm on the Quidditch team? I wanted to see if you and Fred knew when we were going to practise...'

Harry had been so distracted by the Gryffindor selections for the team that he hadn't even paused to consider the other five names on the list, and he realised that he wasn't even sure who else he would be playing with.

'Oh, um, I hadn't really thought...' he said.

'And we should find out which teachers will be taking which positions,' Tilly continued, 'so that we can plan an effective strategy. And we should start meeting regularly. Maybe we ought to pick a name for ourselves. Perhaps it would be a good idea to read up on some old Quidditch matches to get some ideas for new moves. And we should definitely research the techniques of the teachers we'll be marking, find their weaknesses. There's no time to lose.'

'Um...I...' said Harry.

'So, Harry, Fred, I'll see you down at the Quidditch pitch after dinner tonight. Don't worry, I'll tell the others,' Tilly finished, and before they could open their mouths to respond, she was running off down the hall, her pigtails bouncing as she went.

'Reminds me of someone,' said Ron, with a sideways glance at Hermione.

* * *

'That was one weird girl,' said Ron, as he, Harry and Hermione walked to Transfiguration after breakfast, 'all that stuff about researching the teachers, finding their weaknesses?'

'Yeah,' snorted Harry, 'I mean, no offense to them, but we're young and fit and we practise all the time. It's a foregone conclusion. There's no way the teachers could beat us, they're just too old and out of practise. It's going to be a walkover.'

'Potter, stop dawdling and get to class!' snapped Professor McGonagall, from behind them.

Harry and Ron made faces at one another. Had she been listening the whole time?

It appeared she had - Professor McGonagall swept into the class and called them to attention with more than her usual briskness, and throughout the lesson she was short with Harry, criticising his work and asking him the most difficult questions. He was glad to escape at the end of the class.

* * *

That evening, after dinner, Harry and Fred headed down to the Quidditch pitch. Tilly was already there, hopping impatiently up and down. Her Ravenclaw teammate, Roger Davies, was there too. He shrugged embarrassedly at Harry and Fred; they grinned nervously back. A few minutes later, the two Slytherin players, Adrian Pucey and Caractacus Bole came out to join them, looking rather reluctant too. Zacharias Smith, a Hufflepuff in Harry's year, was the last to join them.

'Well, isn't this nice!' said Tilly.

There was a murmur of unenthusiastic agreement.

'Now, they haven't announced yet who will be playing which positions, and in any case I haven't quite finished my write-up on all the teachers, so I thought this evening we could just work on some basics, you know, passing, scoring, that sort of thing, and then tomorrow we can start talking strategy.'

'Tomorrow?' asked Zacharias.

'Yes, well, we only have a couple of weeks, so I think it's just as well if we try to practise every day.'

She seemed so enthused about the idea that nobody quite wanted to correct her, and so it was that, after over two hours of mainly passing, Harry and Fred trudged back up to the Gryffindor tower having promised faithfully to turn up for more of the same every evening that week.

* * *

'Can you believe that Potter?' demanded Minerva McGonagall, sweeping into the Staffroom and throwing herself onto a chair.

'Tea, Minerva?' asked Madam Hooch, the only other occupant, serenely.

'Yes, please, Rolanda. Four sugars.'

'Four? Something's got you riled up...'

'It certainly has! Foregone conclusion? Too old? A walkover?'

'Deary me,' said Rolanda.

'That Potter needs to learn some respect,' Minerva seethed.

Rolanda made noises of agreement as she poured the tea.

'I've asked the rest of the team to meet us here,' Minerva said as she took the tea.

Sure enough, Madam Pince entered, nodded to them both and took a seat.

'I hope this is important,' she said, 'I do so hate to leave the library at this time of night...'

'It is important,' said Minerva firmly.

Professor Sprout came in then. She had a potted plant under each arm, and she proceeded to set them on the table and prune them while they waited.

Shortly, the whole team had arrived. Professor Snape was the last to enter and take his seat.

'What's this all about, Minerva?' he asked. 'I have lots of marking to do, so I would appreciate it if you could make it quick.'

'This,' said Minerva, 'is a council of war.'

Professor Snape raised an elegant eyebrow. Professor Sprout giggled.

'Do go on, Minerva,' said Professor Lupin.

'The student Quidditch team seem to be under the impression that they will achieve an effortless victory over us,' she said, 'I heard them talking - they think we're old and useless!'

'Well, we're none of us as young as we used to be...' began Professor Sprout.

'And what difference does that make?' demanded Minerva, 'With age comes wisdom and cunning! They may be enthusiastic, but some of us have been playing Quidditch for decades!'

'I thought the point of the exercise was to bring the students together by letting them beat us?' asked Professor Lupin, grinning broadly.

'Wouldn't they be equally united in miserable, humiliating defeat?' asked Minerva.

'And they would have learned an important lesson about respecting their elders...' mused Madam Pince.

'I for one would like to see the smug smiles wiped of the faces of certain students,' said Professor Snape.

Madam Hooch just smirked. Really, this was just too easy.