The Hufflepuffs were silent. It was a cold condemnation of the Senior Potions Professor's behaviour. Only so Slytherins were laughing in the public, happy their Head of House was helping the defeat of their hereditary enemy, but a large majority of the House of ambition were staying silent and harbouring stone-faced expressions, not amused by the spectacle so brazenly displayed.
It was a miracle that Gryffindor was only losing thirty-zero right now: Wood, the Keeper and Captain of Gryffindor was excellent and had managed to stop four of the seven Hufflepuff shots. A good thing for him as the recruiters from the Quidditch team had noticed his performance. It was less good for the other players, as the penalties and other interruptions made by the Slytherin referee made impossible to play anything looking like a normal ga of Quidditch. Was Snape that petty to attempt the destruction of the future career of the Gryffindor team, Alexandra wondered inwardly. In her heart, she already knew the answer to that question.
BLAM!
Up in the air, a Bludger sent by one of the Weasley twins slamd in Snape breaking his right arm. With his only arm left in good condition, the Professor of Potions tried to hold on his broom, missing by an inch Neville Longbottom who was making a vertical dive.
"Well done George! Or was it Fred! I hope it hurt, you-"
"JORDAN!"
Alexandra had no need to be able to see the future to see Snape throwing a look full of fury to the Weasley Twin responsible and opened his mouth to award another penalty for Hufflepuff.
"rlin's Beard! Longbottom has caught the Snitch!" Shouted Lee Jordan. And indeed, Longbottom has ceased to dive a few feet over the ground, and his right fist was tightened over a little golden ball with wings.
"150 to 30 for GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"
The stands where the Gryffindors stood burst in acclamations, and a crowd wearing red and gold went spilling on the pitch, carrying the Gryffindor team in triumph. Alexandra noticed even McGonagall and Dumbledore had went down with the rest of the students celebrating on the ground, with Dumbledore even saying a few words to the hero of the day. In the surroundings, Snape landed, holding his wounded arm with a black glare which made the Hufflepuffs near him ran away in urgency, and then spit on the ground. Classy.
The Head of House Slytherin looked livid and about to murder soone, as for the Slytherin students in the stands, they were silent and looking even more shocked than when they had been defeated by Gryffindor. Looking at her watch, Alexandra realised the match had lasted less than ten minutes. Perhaps not a record, but a good performance for any Seeker, let alone a first-year.
"This was not a good match, was it?" Asked Hermione, as the trio began to climb down the stairs of the pitch.
Nigel on her left side shrugged. "I've seen worse."
Alexandra almost missed a step at that. "I would hate seeing what you consider 'worse' in that case, Nigel." Seeing her friend turning his head towards her with a questioning face, she elaborated. "Snape was so obvious in his hate of Gryffindor he turned the entire match into a joke to make Gryffindor lose."
"According to the rules, the referee is not supposed to be impartial in Quidditch. You can bribe him too."
"Tell you're joking."
"No, I'm not." Nigel rolled his shoulders. " But referees who tend to be too obvious when they advantage or penalise a team don't last long in League competitions. If the players don't manage to send him to the hospital before the end of the match, the referee is hunted by the fans until they think he has learnt his lesson. When you're surrounded by thousands of them in a stadium, you have better avoid that. "
"Lovely." said Hermione. By her tone, her opinion of Quidditch was now firmly situated sowhere deep underground.
"Matches can be funny too." Said Nigel defensively, having also noted the disapproving stare of their bushy-haired friend. "Every team playing against the Chudley Cannons usually take a mont to laugh."
"Why is the school so busy laughing about this League team anyway?" Demanded Alexandra. "I think I've heard at least half of the school mocking the Cannons since the beginning of the year. Even Flitwick makes plenty of jokes about them in Charms class."
"The Cannons were quite a successful team until the 1940s," replied the auburn-haired Lion. "They were funded in 1753 by Henry Chudley, a really famous Chaser who was fond of the orange colour. They went to win the League Cup twenty one tis, the last in the 1890s I think. "
"What happened?"
"The Dark Lord Grindelwald happened," Nigel said grimly. "The Chudley family was one of the few British Houses in the Wizengamot to oppose him openly and went to fight in France in 1940. None ca back and the House went extinct. After that, the team went successively to dozens of owners, and the quality dropped like a dungbomb. After 1960, the Cannons managed to take the last place in the League Cup ten tis successively. And in 1972, they changed their motto from ' We shall conquer' to ' Let's all just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best' ." Nigel paused and then continued, this ti in a more funny tone:
"In the last years, the Cannons have only avoided the place of dead last three tis, and at each occasion it was a very near thing. They have beco rather famous for their catastrophic performances, recruiting the unluckiest players of the League and suffering an incredible rate of wounded at each match."
"Ouch!" said Alexandra, feeling a bit sorry for the poor supporters of the Chudley Cannons. "Wait a minute? Isn't this team the one Ron Weasley so proud of?"
"Yeah" sighed Nigel. "He has plastered a lot of posters and banners of the Cannons everywhere he could in the boys dormitory. Can't see his wall without feeling a bit nauseous."
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