Harry Potter and the Order Of the Phoenix [140]
Harry, however, apart from the other students, had something else to think about that wasn’t involved with the O.W.L.s, the Quidditch final, or anything that had to do with school at all… his mom’s birthday was coming up, May 30th, the day he was going to revive her. That was what got Harry through this immensely stressful time, the thought of him being reunited with his mother, for the rest of his life.
The last week of school finally arrived, and Harry was psyched up.
“First up… the Quidditch final… us against Slytherin… yet again,” he said to himself, marking off on his calendar, before he went to bed, after an exhausting, final Quidditch practice. He had four big things to do in a row, and tomorrow kicked it off. Harry collapsed onto his bed, and groaned. He felt something he had not even thought about for quite a while… another note.
Harry reached under his pillow, and grabbed the small piece of wrinkled parchment. This time, however, the note was written very nice and neatly, in dark red ink.
Harry Potter, prepare to scream,
For this note is not a dream.
I know what you did, and will never forget,
Confess to me, or you shall dearly pay, I’ll bet.
You will never escape my undying wrath,
If you succeed, prepare to take a bloody bath.
Harry crumpled up the note, yet again. He had gotten several of these notes all year long, and not one time had the person who had seen him take Fawkes acted out on any of their threats, and this one was going to be no different. He threw the crumpled parchment into the trash, and fell asleep.
“Captains, shake hands,” said Madam Hooch. The Quidditch final was about to begin, and this was the first step towards its beginning. Harry walked towards the center of the Quidditch field, amid the cheers of his fellow Gryffindors, and his teammates. He grabbed Marcus Flint’s massive hand, and shook it up and down.
As Harry was shaking Flint’s hand, two thoughts went through his head:
“I should’ve had breakfast,” and, “We can’t lose, we’re undefeated…” But then, he thought, Slytherin had only lost one match, they were still pretty good. But who did they lose that match to?
“Us,” Harry reminded himself out loud.
“We’re gonna crush you,” said Flint, letting go of Harry’s hand and smiling.
The rest of the Slytherin team walked up next to him, and mounted their brooms. Though Flint was right in front of him, the only opponent Harry could see was Malfoy, and his egotistical smirk. Harry wondered what kind of animal was living behind that face of his.
Madam Hooch threw the Snitch into the air, followed by the two Bludgers. She grabbed the Quaffle, and lee Jordan’s voice rang out.
“Three… two… one… go!” he yelled. Madam Hooch threw the Quaffle into the air, and the game began.
All the players immediately became a blur as they shot off in every direction. Ron flew towards the Gryffindor goals, and the Slytherin Keeper flew towards his goals just as fast. Harry let Alicia, Angelina, and Katie work their Quaffle magic as he soared out of the way, flying about the perimeter of the field, searching for any sign of the golden Snitch.
“And this is the Quidditch final on this lovely summer day, just two days before the O.W.L.s and the N.E.W.T.s,” rang Lee Jordan’s voice. “And what a game it is so far! Gryffindor is in possession of the Quaffle- no Slytherin- no Gryffindor! Wow, look at those Chasers go!”
“Ready to lose again, Potter?” came Malfoy’s voice from across the field. Though it was hard to hear him over the cheering and announcing, Harry understood him perfectly.
“You’d better get ready to lose, Malfoy,” said Harry, turning sharply to avoid