Biased

"And they're off! Potter takes the Quaffle immediately, flies right past Avery, passes to Prewett, back to Potter and score! Gryffindor leads, taking the first point only seconds after the referee's whistle. Slytherin can do nothing but watch their betters at work."

" Mr. Black!"

"Right... Potter gets the Quaffle back, dodges a Bludger by the soon to be hexed Flint, passes to Smith and... it's intercepted by Rosier, which really, if you think about it, it's quite surprising not only because of his poor broom technique but also because of the big nose he has obscuring his visi—"

"Mr. Black! I'm warning you."

"Sorry, Professor. Let me just take this moment to introduce my reluctant co-host, Professor Minerva McGonagall. She teaches Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, her Animagus form is a tabby cat and on her free time she enjoys—"

"The whole school doesn't need to know what I do or do not enjoy."

"Right... James, stop laughing and steal the bloody Quaffle! And Potter takes the Quaffle and scores! Twenty to nothing, Gryffindor. And the crowd goes wild, chanting and cheering and I can just see Potter's head inflating even more... he's gonna be a pain to live with this week."

"I'm sure we all mourn for you, Mr. Black. Now kindly go back to the game."

"Yes, Professor. Avery in control of the Quaffle, he dodges past Prewett and... Yes! Nice save by Fenwick, and may I just say what a fine girl she is."

"No, Mr. Black, you may not!"

"Avery, who most definitely isn't fine at all - sorry, Professor - takes the Quaffle. He dodges a Bludger, passes to Rosier, back to Avery and... bloody he--! Er, well, they score. Twenty-ten, still Gryffindor's lead. Potter takes the Quaffle and he's fast! The bloke can fly! And he scores! Thirty-Ten, Gryffindor. Take that! With that aim few would know Potter's blind as a bat without his glasses. I tell you, in the morning before he finds them he literally stumbles all over the bedroom, knocking into trunks, beds once into Peter too, that was fu—"

"As interesting as you think Mr. Potter's morning rituals are, Mr. Black, this isn't the time or place to recollect them."

"Sorry, Professor, just trying to spice it up a bit. Right... no spice. Anyway, Smith has the Quaffle, passes it to the much discussed Potter, back to Smith and she scores! Fine girl that one too. No sign of the Snitch yet. Jefferson and Yaxley are circling the field and doing their best to glare at each other while they search, and after the incident earlier today in the corridor Jefferson has every right to glare."

"You and Mr. Potter are still serving detention tonight for that."

"It's the price one must pay to avenge the honor of fellow Gryffindors, a noble endeavor indeed... and Prewett steals the Quaffle from Rockwell and scores! Gryffindor chasers are flying superbly today... Rosier with the Quaffle, past Smith, moves to the left but there comes Potter and he steals it! Rosier isn't looking too happy about it, not that he ever-– James, look out!... That sneaky bloody fuc—"

"Language, Mr. Black!"

"But, Professor, the slimeball grabbed James' robes. That Bludger almost broke his head because of it."

"I'm aware of the foul play and so is the referee. If you hadn't been to busy yelling you would have noticed he just awarded Mr. Potter with a free shot."

"Right. Potter takes the shot and scores, of course. Fifty-ten, Gryffindor. The dirty tactics of the Slytherins won't scare one James Potter, that's for sure. And they don't scare me so stop glaring, Rosier. Prewett steals the Quaffle from a distracted Rosier - I do wonder what he found so interesting here on the stands - passes to Smith, Smith to Potter, back to Prewett and another beautiful play by the Gryffindor team, leading sixty to ten. Avery takes the Quaffle, passes to Rockwell and Potter intercepts it! Watch out Slytherin, you managed to anger James and there's no stopping him when he gets this way, stubborn as a mule, that one, I should know."

"We all do, unfortunately."

"Well put, Professor. Oh and yes, Potter scores again. Rosier with the Quaffle, flanked by Avery and closing in to the Gryffindor goals. Prewett and Potter move to intercept and, bloody hell! Sorry, Professor. Potter flies back into the fray after avoiding a nasty Bludger. Avery takes the shot and it's blocked by Fenwick! Didn't I say she was a fine girl?"

"I believe I stopped you, Mr. Back."

"Indeed. I'll just have to leave Fenwick's praising to her boyfriend, then."

"I'm sure he will appreciate that. And I believe Potter scored again."

"You say it like it's something special, professor. He scores all the time. That was a compliment, James, no need to glare. He's touchy about his flying."

"Mr. Bl—"

"Anyway, Rosier takes the Quaffle, passes to Rockwell, Potter flies dangerously between them trying to intercept them and loops, evading the two Bludgers aimed at him. Potter goes back down, tries to steal the Quaffle and is forced to pull away by another Bludger aimed by Flint. Slytherin beaters seem determined to keep Potter away. Smith steals the Quaffle, not good to forget about her fellows, she's one hell of a flier, passes to Prewett and... it's blocked by the Slytherin keeper. Prewett with the Quaffle, tries to pass to Potter but Potter is forced to dodge another Bludger, moving him out of position. Reading between the Bludgers, I'd say they are targeting you, mate. Probably they just realized he's a superior flier. Slytherins do tend to be slow."

"Mr. Black!"

"What are your thoughts on the Slytherin's strategy, Professor?"

"Mr. Black. I'm not here to offer commentary. My purpose is to make sure you don't step out of line, as long as it can be helped."

"And a fine job that is... Still no sign of the Snitch. Potter is still being forced out of the plays by the Bludgers which, unfortunate as it is, leaves Prewett and Smith free to score, so score, damn it!"

"This is exactly the type of commentary you are supposed to refrain from."

"Duly noted, Professor. However inappropriate, Smith - smart girl that she is - takes my brilliant advice and scores. Ninety-ten, Gryffindor still leads. Avery with the Quaffle, Smith barely dodges a Bludger, having caught apparently the attention of the Slytherin beaters, which, of course, leaves Potter free to intercept the pass and fly towards the Slytherin's goal post and score! Welcome back, James! Have you noticed how he always manages to score the one hundredth point? Some would say it's just a coincidence but this is James we're talking about, he does like the spotlight... No need to give me that look, Professor, you know it's true."

"I shall refrain from making any comment."

"Potter looks crestfallen at the Professor's apparent rejection but it doesn't affect his flying as he steals the Quaffle again. Potter to Prewett, Prewett dodges a Bludger, past Avery and scores! Go Gryffindor! Come on, people, let's see a wave! It's pretty clear that Gryffindor is outclassing the Slytherin team--"

"Ahem."

"And unless Yaxley gets the Snitch, which he won't, the outcome of the match is easily foreseeable."

"Please refrain from making predictions, Mr. Black."

"No faith in my Inner Eye, Professor? ... Right... Rockwell with the Quaffle, passes to Avery, heading fast for the goal and almost knocking Smith off her broom. You would think I hit a nerve. He shots and Fenwick deflects it. Smith catches the rebound, passes to Prewett, Prewett to Potter, he takes the shot and scores! Let's see that wave again!"

"Do not guide your house into cheering or waves, Mr. Black. You are supposed to be impartial when commenting!"

"Sure, Professor. Rockwell takes the Quaffle and... Jefferson is diving! The Snitch has been spotted! Yaxley follows him but Jefferson is faster. Flint aims a Bludger at Jefferson but he's not pulling away. The Bludger is catching up, where are our Beaters anyway? You'll think they'll—James, bloody hell!... Potter manages to stay in his broom but I bet the wanker broke his arm again. What sort of git dives willingly on the path of a Bludger?"

"Mr. Black."

"Sorry, Professor but you have to agree on that. Anyway, thanks to the wanker's antics Jefferson has caught the snitch and Gryffindor wins two hundred and seventy to ten! What a victory, don't you think Professor?"

"I must say I am pleased with the outcome."

"As I am, Professor. This was Sirius Black, narrating with the help of the lovely Professor McGonagall. I now shall leave you all to your cheering for I surely need to accompany the git that calls himself my best mate to the hospital wing, again. This is fast becoming a tradition and not one of our better ones, I tell you. Anyway, party on the Gryffindor Common Room, bring your drin--... Er, I mean a quiet celebratory gathering with tea and biscuits, Professor..."

"Sure you do, Mr. Black. Sure you do."

- The End -