Chapter 181: Quidditch Disaster

By two o'clock Chris and Ginny reached the Quidditch field with their Firebolts. They were the first ones there. After a few minutes, Fred and George arrived.

"Everything set?" George winked at Chris.

"Yep," Chris smirked.

Chris, Ginny, Fred and George were talking and joking among them when Harry and Ron entered.

"All right, Ron?" said George.

"Yeah," said Ron very quietly.

"Ready to show us all up, Ickle Prefect?" said Fred, a slightly malicious grin on his face.

"Shut up," said Ron, stony-faced, pulling on his own team robes for the first time.

"Okay everyone," said Angelina, entering from the Captain's office, already changed. "Let's get to it; George and Fred, if you can just bring the ball crate out for us. Oh, and there are a couple of people out there watching but I want you to just ignore them, all right?"

Something in her would-be casual voice made Chris think she might know who the uninvited spectators were, and sure enough, when they left the changing room for the bright sunlight of the pitch it was to a storm of catcalls and jeers from the Slytherin Quidditch team and assorted hangers-on, who were grouped halfway up the empty stands and whose voices echoed loudly around the stadium. However, Draco wasn't there.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" Montague called in his sneering drawl. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that? Did no one get you a new broom like your little sister?"

Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson guffawed and shrieked with laughter.

Rolling their eyes Chris and Ginny mounted their brooms and kicked off from the ground.

"Ignore them," Harry advised Ron. "We'll see who's laughing after we play them . . ."

"Exactly the attitude I want, Harry," said Angelina approvingly, soaring around them with the Quaffle under her arm and slowing to hover on the spot in front of her airborne team. "Okay everyone, we're going to start with some passes just to warm up, the whole team please —"

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway?" shrieked Pansy Parkinson from below. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

"You need a good fashion sense and attractive face to understand that hairstyle, Parkinson," Ginny said loudly. "Unfortunately you've none..."

Pansy Parkinson shrieked and shouted at Ginny. Chris, Harry, Fred and George laughed.

Angelina swept her long braided hair out of her face, smiled at Ginny and said calmly, "Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do . . ."

Chris and Ginny took two sides of Angelina. Angelina raised the Quaffle with one hand and threw it hard to Chris, who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed to Ron, who dropped it. The Slytherins roared and screamed with laughter. Ron, who had pelted toward the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to playing height, blushing.

Chris sighed.

"Pass it on, Ron," called Angelina, as though nothing had happened.

Ron threw the Quaffle to Fred, who passed back to Ginny, who passed to Angelina, who suddenly passed it to Harry. Chris decided that was the right time to bewitch the Quaffle. So when Harry passed it to Ron, who lunged for it and missed by inches, Chris concentrated on the Quaffle and waited. 

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"Come on now, Ron," said Angelina crossly, as Ron dived for the ground again, chasing the Quaffle. "Pay attention."

It would have been hard to say whether Ron's face or the Quaffle was a deeper scarlet when he returned again to playing height. The Slytherin team were howling with laughter.

In the next round as Ginny passed the Quaffle to Harry, Chris seized the chance. Harry threw the Quaffle to Chris, which soared straight through Chris's outstretched hands and hit her hard in the face.

"I'm sorry! Chris, are you okay?" Harry said, zooming towards her.

Chris hide her smirk as her nose started to bleed.

"Get back in position, she's fine!" barked Angelina. "What is wrong with you all today? I'm glad you're not a chaser, Potter. Maybe you forgot we've got Bludgers for knocking people off the brooms!"

"I'm fine. I'll be alright." Chris said and ate the Nosebleed Nougats.

Down below the Slytherins were stamping their feet and jeering. The only thing Chris didn't like today was those Slytherins, without them her plan didn't look so bad.

"All right," called Angelina, "Fred, George, go and get your bats and a Bludger; Ron, get up to the goalposts, Harry, release the Snitch when I say so. We're going to aim for Ron's goal, obviously."

Chris's nose was bleeding very terribly within seconds. Ginny soared towards her.

"Don't you've anything for that nose?" She asked.

"Actually I've but I can't take it here," Chris whispered. "I need to get out of here before four o'clock."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at her.

"I can handle this, don't worry," Chris said holding her nose. 

Angelina blew her whistle, Harry released the Snitch and Fred and George let fly the Bludger. Chris and Ginny passed the Quaffle to each other and reached the goalposts. Ron was flying between the middle post and left post. Ginny did a goal. Ron hovered on the left goalpost as Chris did another goal. Angelina's whistled.

"Stop — stop  — STOP!" screamed Angelina. "Ron — you're not covering your all posts!"

"Oh . . . sorry . . ."

"You keep shifting around while you're watching the Chasers!" said Angelina. "Either stay in centre position until you have to move to defend a hoop, or else circle the hoops, but don't drift vaguely off to one side, that's how you let in the last two goals!"

"Sorry . . ." Ron repeated, his red face shining like a beacon against the bright blue sky.

"And Chris, can't you do something about that nosebleed?"

"Er... Angelina, it's getting worse. I think I've to check it with Madam Pomfrey." Chris said, her sleeves were covered with blood now. She showed it to Angelina.

"I think she should, Angelina," Fred said.

Angelina sighed.

"Alright, go Chris. We can't continue like this," she said. She was ignoring the Slytherins, who had now set up a chant of "Gryffindor are losers, Gryffindor are losers," but there was a certain rigidity about her seat on the broom nevertheless.

Chris zoomed towards the changing rooms, pulled out an antidote from her locket, hastily took a sip and changed her robes.

By the time she was walking towards the lake, there was just a little weakness in her body because of the blood loss, otherwise, her nose was fine.

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To be continued...