A week later was the Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff Quidditch game; and Harry was, of course, starting seeker. The sky was threatening rain. With his new Ravenclaw Quidditch robes with the large yellow number seven on his lower back and the name Potter spelled out just above it, he met with the rest of the team in the locker rooms.
"Alright, Harry," said Martin. "You know what you need to do. Just try not to show just how good you actually are. I want you to save that for when we play Slytherin. However, Diggory is almost as good as you are on a broom and he rides a Cleansweep Seven, so don't think you'll just out pace him."
"So, be a good seeker; just not a great seeker?" he asked.
"Pretty much," replied Martin. Turning to the rest of the team he said, "Beaters, keep the bludgers off the chasers; but, keep an eye on Potter. If he gets injured because you two weren't doing your jobs I'll have your guts for garters! "Chasers, watch for the bludgers and make sure you're being covered by the beaters. I want full pitch presses if the opposing chasers get the quaffle. In tight on the inside, always. No letting the opposition's chasers get a free run down the pitch. Press them the whole way. Remember; it only takes a little mistake on their part for us to get the quaffle back. And, if they make that mistake early, it won't give them a chance to set up a defence in front of the goal rings.
"Keeps, watch for the fake. We know Blenkinsop, at least, favours the right hand hoop but often fakes to the left; and I think that new girl, Bobbins, might do the same without the fake.
"Alright, then. Are we ready?" And put his hand out palm down in the huddle. The others all put their hands in on top, and Harry's went last. "Rrrrrrrrrravenclaw!" they all called out as they threw their hands into the air.
Harry was so excited to actually play he almost charged straight out onto the field. Martin held him back and said, "You'll be called last, Harry. Listen to the announcer call your name and fly out, alright?"
Harry nodded back and drifted to the back of the formation.
As the names of the players were called, they flew out. The Keeper, first; then the three chasers with Martin in the middle; then the two beaters. Finally, the announcer called, "And, finally Ravenclaw's new raven-haired, green-eyed seeker - making his debut Ravenclaw's Raven - Harry Potter!"
While he was being announced, Harry ran as far back into the tent as he could and still maintain a straight line exit out the opening and mounted his broom. As soon as his name started to be called he accelerated the broom as fast as he could and shot out of the opening like a rocket.
He immediately angled the broom upwards at about thirty degrees and performed three quick barrel rolls before pointing the broom straight up. He climbed a further fifty feet and braked.
Just before he stopped he hopped off the broom and splayed himself out like a starfish facing up while holding the broom in his right hand. He then allowed himself to fall for about twenty feet before pulling his hands in and letting his flapping robes slow his legs down enough for him to then be heading straight down head first.
As his feet arced up and over his head, he pulled the handle of the broom hard up against his chest and jammed his feet back into the stirrups performing a slow complete twist as he fell.
Looking down he could see all the other players were on the ground around a box in the middle of the field.
'Oops!' he thought. 'No one told me I had to go there first.'
He pulled out of his dive at the last moment and, as soon as he was flying parallel to the ground, popped up and threw the broom into a heel skid.
He came to a stop only a foot away from Martin with a big grin on his face.
Martin, who first looked like he was going to jump aside in fear, stood his ground and, when Harry stepped off his broom, rolled his eyes and said, "What did I tell you?"
"What, that?" asked Harry pointing back to where he just came from. "No one told me I had to meet with everyone else down here, first. That was just warming up a bit."
"If you're quite done, Mister Potter," said Madam Hooch, their referee for the day. "I'd like to get the game underway."
"Sorry, Ma'am," said Harry, a little chagrined.
"Alright," she said in her no nonsense voice. "Keep it clean and within the rules. If I see a beater's bat anywhere near another player, I'll personally use it to paddle your behind - repeatedly." Looking straight at Harry she said, "As for you, Mister Potter; if I see you pull another manoeuvre like that inverted starfish you just pulled, you won't need to find the snitch. I'll be jamming the thing so far up your - behind you'll feel it's wings tickling your throat. Have I make myself perfectly clear?"
Harry gulped and replied, Yes, Ma'am!" "Good," she nodded before turning to all the players. "Hufflepuff won the toss, so which goals do you want to defend, Mister Blenkinsop?"
"Those ones, thank you, Ma'am," replied the boy indicating the end into the wind.
"Very well," nodded Hooch. "Everyone up in the air. The game starts on my whistle."
Harry shot up into the air as quick as he could. Those gold cat's eyes on Madam Hooch do weird things to your insides where she glares at you with them.
With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the snitch.
"Ready for a battle, Potter?" yelled Diggory, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom. Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.
"Close one, Harry!" said Paul McCutcheon, the other beater, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the bludger back toward a Hufflepuff. Harry saw Paul give the bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Cedric Diggory, but then it changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.
Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and Paul managed to hit it hard toward Diggory again. Once again, the bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.
Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible.
Roger Davies was waiting for the bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Roger swung at the bludger with all his might; the bludger was knocked off course.
"Gotcha!" yelled Roger happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.
It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering into his eyes. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Hufflepuff lead, sixty points to zero!" The two Ravenclaw beaters, trying to protect Harry, were clearly not able to do their proper jobs. Meanwhile, the mad bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Roger and Paul were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the snitch, let alone catch it.
"Someone's - tampered - with this bludger..." Paul grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry.
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