Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Girls Can Play Quidditch ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any characters therein. They belong to Warner Brother's as well as JK Rowling.

 

 

-A/N- This is somewhat of a building chapter.

 

 

-----the story-----

 

 

A few weeks had passed, and Sarra Evans was still on the Slytherin team (though Flint took the argument all the way to the headmaster, reasoning that it was an upheld tradition to not let girls on the team! To which Professor Dumbledore replied, `Traditions always change Mr. Flint.') It was wonderful.

 

At breakfast there was a constant hum of chatter, a practice match was being held between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw in order to prepare the way for the opening of the season. Sarra was excited, not because she would get to see a rather good match, but because it meant that in a few short days she herself would be on a broom, tackling other players, throwing the Quaffle, scoring points to where it wouldn't even matter if the other team caught the Snitch, her team would still win.

 

Looking up from her plate (which had Pitch shaped toast on it…she absent-mindedly cut it that way) Sarra noticed that the teams were standing up, saying goodbye to friends, and getting ready to head down to the real un-toasted Pitch. Not able to wait for the game to start Sarra to stood and left the Great Hall to make her way to the Pitch.

 

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“I've never done anything like this before. I'm nervous”

 

“Now Harry, this isn't any different than a team practice. It doesn't matter if you catch the Snitch or not, because the points here won't count. Just go out there and do your best alright?”

 

Oliver Wood stood in the Gryffindor locker room giving Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, the boy who made You-Know-Who no more than a whisper of evil, a pep talk; ignoring the rest of the team's cajoling hoorahs and other such hullabaloo. “It's time.” Oliver picked up his broom, making his way to the door at the end of the hall leading to the pitch, with Harry following right behind. The rest of the team fell in line behind them the Beaters (Fred and George Weasley), and then the Chasers (Angelina, Alicia, and Katie).

 

The tension became nearly too much for the young Seeker to handle until the door opened and he heard the voice of the Weasley twins friend Lee Jordan announce the Ravenclaw team and then the Gryffindor team, who collectively mounted their brooms and shot out of the hallway, climbing up into the air.

 

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It seemed to Sarra as if the air itself became alive with the love and adoration shown for both teams as they entered the Pitch. Nearly the entire stadium was filled with students adamantly cheering on one team or the other, the only section left nearly empty was the section that she sat in….

 

…Slytherin.

 

Apparently they didn't care for anything that wasn't green and silver, but that didn't matter to Sarra. She was just here for the Quidditch, not “house bonding.”

 

Madame Hooch hovered twenty-five feet above the ground and ten feet below the players, tossing the Quaffle high into the air she put her whistle to her lips, and signaled that the game had begun.

 

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Sarra couldn't believe it, thirty minutes into the game and the score was already 40 to 10, Gryffindor. She really did want them to win, even though Amanda would want her to root for Ravenclaw.

 

After another forty minutes the score had become a bit closer: 80 to 60, Ravenclaw. Sarra found herself yelling at the Gryffindor chasers: “Tackle that guy!” “Get the Quaffle! Get it! Get it! Get it!” “What was that? You call that a barrel roll? Come on!”

 

The few students in the Slytherin section who kept turning to glare at were most likely first years, and one first year in particular kept eyeing her, he was blond and had a smirk plastered on his face. “Do you mind? A few of us real Slytherins would like to enjoy the defeat of Gryffindor in pleasurable silence.” The blonde boy turned back towards the field.

 

Sarra was a bit shocked that this eleven year old boy had the nerve to say such a thing to her, she really did want Gryffindor to win, but in order to show up Mr. I'm-too-good-for-the-likes-of-you, she replied, “I do mind. I would certainly like to see them win…if they win now, then I am going to make sure that their defeat next week will be so much sweeter.”

 

The blonde boy laughed…at her! “You will make sure?! How do you propose to do that, eh?”

 

“Out score them. I'm on the Slytherin team…center Chaser.”

 

“You are no such thing! Everyone knows girls can't play Quidditch!

 

“Excuse me, I am.” She showed him her sleeve where her Quidditch patch was sewn. “And if you or anyone else says anything along those lines again, I'll hex you. Understand?”

 

The blonde boy actually stood up and faced Sarra this time saying, “I don't think you will. Do you know who I am?”

 

Sarra also stood up (her full height being a good foot and a half taller than the young boy in front of her,) “Yes, you are a blonde headed little prat, who hides behind mummy's money, and daddy's ministry influence. Yes, I know exactly who you are Draco Malfoy, and do you know who I am?”

 

Draco shrunk back a bit, but in a vain attempt to keep his face in front of his friends, he said, “No! But it doesn't matter. You can't touch me! I'm a Malfoy!”

 

It was Sarra's turn to laugh, “Oh, you may think that you're invincible, but just you wait. You'll get your comeuppance sooner or later.”

 

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“You said that?! To Malfoy? Girl, congratulations, you've got guts.” Amanda shook Sarra's hand in mock admiration.

 

The two girls were in the library looking at books for a three foot, Astronomy essay that they had to write, “The Correlation Between Sky and Myth.”

 

“But the worst part about it was that I missed the last play of the game!” Sarra plopped the books that she had been carrying on to the table.

 

“What? The part where Potter didn't catch the Snitch, but chased it right in to Chang's hands?” Amanda opened the first book `Greek Myths for the Not So Informed' and thumbed to the section on Atalanta and the Golden Apples. “It really wasn't all that spectacular, Ravenclaw just beat the best Quidditch team at Hogwarts, final score of 240 to 90. Oh yeah! Alright! Mmhhmm!” Amanda began doing a variation on the Cabbage Patch…and for a girl whose father was an African-American tap dancer in the States, and whose mother taught ballet, she really had no sense rhythm.

 

“Amanda…please stop. People are beginning to stare.” Sarra put a hand on her friend's shoulder in order to quell the erratic, as well as slightly embarrassing, movement meant to be a victory dance. Amanda quit, and picked up her quill to take notes on the myth at hand.

 

Here is how the story goes:

 

In the land of Arcadia there was a King and Queen who hoped for a boy, yet when the Queen produced a girl they threw her (the baby) to the wilderness. Raised by a she-bear, and then hunters, Atalanta grew to be a strong, beautiful, fleet young woman.

 

As a young woman, she led a party to defeat the Boar of Calydon, and defeat it they did. A few years later, after being told by an oracle she would be ruined if she were to marry, Atalanta set up a contest to win her hand in marriage. All of the suitors that wanted to marry her would have to race her, and if they beat her in the race, they won her hand in marriage, if not they would die by her hand.

 

One day, a young man by the name of Hippomenes, showed up, she begged him not to race her, for she feared that if he lost she would have to kill him. This would be most dreadful for she had already fallen in love with him. Yet, due to her competitive nature and the oracle's promise that marriage will be her demise, she would have to kill him should he lose - per the rules of her own contest.

Hippomenes prayed to Aphrodite for help in winning the race and thus Atalanta's hand. Aphrodite took pity on the man and devised a plan to help him win the race, without exactly cheating of course. She gave him three golden apples and told him to throw them upon the ground at different times during the race. He did. Atalanta was distracted by these apples, stopping each time to pick them up. This gave Hippomenes an advantage, thus leading him to a victory and Atalanta's hand in marriage.

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“Some story, huh?”

 

Sarra had been reading over Amanda's shoulder, and when the other girl spoke it frightened her a bit.

 

“Whoa! Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, just wanted your opinion.”

 

“Oh, yeah. It's great. Atalanta is a wonderful example of…umm…god-like mortal strength, though…I don't think this story fits with our assignment, why don't we try Orion or something.” It was at that precise moment that a paper airplane landed nose first into Sarra's temple. “What the hell?!” She could hear snickering and giggling coming from the bookshelf behind her, it sounded like a bunch of little boys, one of them whispered, “Read it!!”

 

Sighing Sarra picked up the paper Muggle transportation device and unfolded it. The paper was blank save for three little words…`I love you.' and the salutation which also possessed three words…`little blonde prat.' Sarra snorted.

 

“Well isn't this just cute. Look.” She handed the note to her friend who read it and immediately began to laugh. “This is priceless! Is he serious? Oh my god…wow. How adorably naïve!”

 

“How dare you call me naïve? I'll have you know that I do indeed…know things.” Draco Malfoy decided to reveal himself at that moment as the owner of the professed statement of affection eloquently penned on the piece of paper in the older Ravenclaw's hands. Sarra crossed her arms as Amanda placed her hands on her hips. The former just glared, and the latter asked, “You know things, and what, pray tell, is it that you know?”

 

“You know…things.” The first year could honestly admit that he was attracted to Sarra Evans, yet he was also a bit scared by her domineering presence, that was accentuated by her friend's prying question.

Sarra spoke up this time, “No, Draco, we don't know, please inform us. Teach us. Impart on us you vast knowledge of…things” She sat down, and crossed her legs, showing a lot of thigh, knowing exactly what `things' Draco meant, and was determined to be a tease.

“I-I-I have to go. Crabbe? Goyle? We're leaving.” The embarrassed Malfoy heir, turned on his heel and left out of the library with his two lummoxes following like the whipped, puppies they were.

Amanda swatted her friend's arm, “Ooh girl, you gonna use those feminine wiles out on the Pitch?”

The Pitch! “Amanda what time is it?”

“7:45, why?”

“I promised Oliver I'd practice with him! Shit!” Sarra grabbed her bag and left…

“…Leaving me to do the essay, by myself, again.” Amanda sighed and just kept on reading and taking notes.

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End ch.3

 

-A/N- So, what do you people out there think? That review button won't bite you, you know. Besides, how am I supposed to know if I've done something terribly, terribly wrong? Huh? REVIEW! ...please? - Itou/Tythe