Author's Note: PSA: PM is driven by reviews. She was so excited, she typed this out in a night and sent it to me straightaway. I've just read it through and...I love Quidditch. I know more about Quidditch than actual sporting events. But I digress. Enjoy, Potter-nerds, and drop more reviews to get these chapters out!

Rating: T (cause she's paranoid).

Disclaimer: Me and my friend own nothing of the Potterverse, we are just playing with JK Rowling's toys that she's offered us.

Editing: All editing is done by me for my dear friend.

The First Year

Gryffindor v. Slytherin (Julian is Going to Get Himself Expelled)

The second weekend of November was when it finally started snowing at Hogwarts. Not a lot, just flurries, really. The second weekend of November was also the first Quidditch match. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin, and I swear no one, not even the players, were more nervous for the match than Julian, Fred, and Potter. Just before the game, Sawyer and I found the boys in the inter-House common room, furiously scribbling on large pieces of poster board.

"Oi, James, d'you reckon Jessie Wood prefers to go by 'Jessie' or 'Jessica'?" I heard Fred ask.

"Jessie," Potter responded. My brother followed up with, "Jessica sounds like a mouthful."

"What are you twits doing?" Sawyer asked as she threw herself into one of the armchairs.

I draped myself across the loveseat, taking a bite from the licorice wand I'd been gnawing at for the past few minutes. "Yeah, those signs look like they've been made by children."

Julian glared up at me. "It'd do you well to remember we are only eleven, Holly. We practically are children."

"Then why in your right mind d'you think you can impress Jessie Wood? She's a sixth year! There's no way she'd give any of you blokes a second look."

Sawyer snorted. "McCall's got a point, Weasley."

Fred just scowled. He didn't even bother to look at us as he continued on his sign which read in absolutely dreadful bubble letters "NOTHING CAN GET PAST JESSIE WOOD". I didn't know Jessie, but I knew she was popular within the Gryffindors. Her dad, Oliver Wood, was the Keeper for Puddlemere United until he'd retired and become the coach. Jessie was the Gryffindor Keeper, and Molly Weasley insisted she was better than even her father.

"It's not even witty," Sawyer said airily.

Fred slammed down his quill. "That's it! If you think you're so bloody intelligent, why don't you make Jessie her sign?"

"Because, dear Fred, I'm not the one trying to snog Jessie Wood. I believe that'd be you."

Fred turned a bright shade of scarlet and Potter and Julian snickered. Upon Fred's glare, both Potter and my brother coughed and became very interested in their own posters, which were basic ones that supported Gryffindor, not an individual player.

"Is it really so hard to believe a nice girl'd take interest in me?" Fred asked, addressing the question to his cousin.

Potter glanced up from his poster, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Erm, of course not, Freddie, but…you have to admit…Jessie Wood is sort of out of our league. She's pretty, she's smart, she's a bloody good Quidditch player, and well…you're just…Fred."

"And what's the s'posed to mean?!"

Potter quickly turned a bright shade of red and stammered to cover his mistake, "Nothing, nothing at all! I just mean we're a little young for her and I reckon Jessie Wood's dating that fifth year bloke from Ravenclaw. Their Seeker. What's his name, Holly?" He quickly looked to me and so did Fred. In Potter's eyes, I almost saw him begging for help.

I looked back to Fred who gave me a look that said, Well, McCall? "Our Seeker is Ashton Comstock, right handsome bloke. I wouldn't be surprised to see the two together."

Fred's face fell and he frowned. "Well…well, it's fine, right? We have your signs, don't we, mates?" He took one look at his poster and got up, shrugging on his winter cloak. "C'mon then, don't want to be late for the match." Fred was gone before any of us could speak.

"I'll talk to him," muttered Julian, who scrambled to his feet and snatched his poster, scurrying off after Fred Weasley.

That left Sawyer, Potter, and I. Potter ran a hand through his dark hair and sat back on his haunches. He reluctantly met my eyes. "Thanks, McCall," he said grudgingly. "I owe you one. I don't think Fred'll be too cross with me." He picked up his poster as well as Fred's. "Are you two headed to the match?"

"No, Potter, we're just dressed for winter because we feel like it," sniped Sawyer and I snickered.

Potter rolled his eyes as he pulled on a red and gold beanie hat. "Bugger off, Stratton, it was just a question. Don't you Ravenclaws know how to be civil?"

"So you want a truce then?" asked Sawyer with a raised eyebrow as we followed Potter out of the common room. I could tell she wasn't convinced. Last week, Potter and Fred had hidden a Dungbomb until Sawyer's seat at the breakfast table. Needless to say, the lot of us Ravenclaws who had gotten to breakfast late decided to skip the most important meal of the day.

Potter tossed a smirk over his shoulder. "Of course not."

"Then don't expect any kindness out of––" Sawyer broke off as she realized that Potter wasn't listening. "He's a prick," she decided.

I didn't disagree.

Sawyer and I caught up with Julian, Fred, and Potter in the Quidditch stands. They had mingled in with the other Weasleys, as well as a few others. I recognized Teddy Lupin, Hufflepuff and Head Boy, with his bright blue hair and scruffy beard, his arm wrapped around a girl who bore an incredible resemblance to Dominique, who I assumed was Victoire Weasley. Speaking of Dom, she was engaged in a conversation with Roxy a few seats away. Molly and Lucy and a few of their friends had made their own signs, which were much more professionally done than the boys'. Julian had sidled up next to Riley Finnegan of Gryffindor and was grinning like an idiot as Riley laughed at something he said. Fred was sulking while Potter tried to cheer him up. Sawyer and I pushed past Julian and Potter, who stuck his tongue out at me as we passed. I thumped him on the forehead and left him behind before he could begin to complain.

"Sawyer! Holly!" Dom hugged us when she saw us. The only classes the Ravenclaws had with the Slytherins were Transfiguration and History of Magic, which we all fell asleep in, even us Ravenclaws. We saw Dom enough outside of class, but during them, it was bollocks that we didn't get to see her often.

Roxy hugged us too, even though I reckon we saw her every other class. The Ravenclaws shared a large number of their classes with the Gryffindors, which was most likely because when Slytherins and Gryffindors mixed, fights and duels tended to break out. I figured Professor McGonagall assumed that if she put the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins together, there wouldn't be as many problems. I could attest to that, as I knew quite a few Hufflepuffs. They were as laidback as laidback could get.

"What're you doing over here, Dom?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be cheering on Slytherin?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm in their House doesn't mean I get along with the lot of them. Or want their Quidditch team to win," she added. "Lexie was going to come over with me, but she didn't want to be surrounded by Weasleys. Said it'd get awkward since I'd be surrounded by family and whatnot, and our parents were never exactly the best of friends." Lexie Zabini was one of Dom's closest friends in Slytherin. She was a nice girl, we'd studied in the library once together for Transfiguration. She was like Dom in the sense that she was only a Slytherin because she was ambitious and anxious to prove herself. Other than that, the girl was nothing like the pure-blooded gits that Slytherin House usually took in.

I was about to say something about how Lexie could've sat with us, but I was interrupted by the beginning of the match.

"Goooooooooood afternoon, Hogwarts, and welcome to this year's first Quidditch match!" said voice with a thick Scottish accent over the microphone. "I'm your announcer, Tracey Weller! Joining me will be Lance Jordan, your announcer-in-training, if you will!"

"Hullo!" came a young boy's voice, one a recognized to be in Gryffindor.

"This afternoon's match is between Gryffindor and Slytherin, what a riveting match it'll be, I must say. I hear Slytherin has a new Keeper and Seeker, so that'll be interesting to watch, eh, Jordan?"

"Aye, Weller, I believe this'll be one for the books."

As Tracey Weller and Lance Jordan had been speaking, below us, the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch teams were mounting their brooms on the pitch. The Seekers were already in the air, head to head. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch referee, who I thought should have been retired, was speaking to the teams. After a harsh blow of the whistle, the brooms were in the air and the match began.

"And Lane Ritchie gets his hands on the Quaffle, the Slytherin captain, good chaser, kind of a git––"

"WELLER!"

"Right, sorry, Professor. Ritchie passes to Annabel Bletchley, a rather good Chaser as well, say Slytherin has quite the team this year––"

"Right you are, Weller, rather a shame really, the lot of them are tossers––"

"JORDAN!"

"Oi, sorry, Professor, just thought I'd throw in my two-cents––"

"And Bletchley gets slammed with a Bludger directed by Andrew Hooper, dropping the Quaffle right into Thomas Chang's outstretched hands! And its Chang to Aimee Matlock, Matlock to Gryffindor Captain Ian Winchester, and Winchester makes the throw – Ooh, and the Quaffle is knocked away into Bletchley's hands, who is apparently fine, and she takes off! A throw – blocked by Jessie Wood, ace Keeper, she is! Wood throws the Quaffle to Matlock, who dodges a Bludger and drops the Quaffle to Chang, and Chang breaks away! What a great Chaser, Thomas Chang, brilliant to look at as well––"

"Tracey!"

"Sorry, Professor – GRYFFINDOR SCORES! What a brilliant toss by Chang! And the Quaffle's back in play, Slytherin hands. Bletchley to Ritchie, Ritchie to Troy McAllister, McAllister throws it at the hoop…! And Slytherin ties the game, ten to ten."

"Bloody hell – Sorry, Professor – What a game we have going here, Weller – and the Quaffle's in Gryffindor hands! Chang to Winchester, Winchester back to Chang, Chang to Matlock – Ooh, and Matlock is blasted with one nasty Bludger sent by Jimmy McCandless, a brilliant hit, I must admit," grumbled Lance Jordan.

"The Quaffle nearly hits the ground, but its juggled by Troy McAllister, who tosses it up to Bletchley, who throws it in the air and spins, knocking the Quaffle with her broom across the pitch into Lane Ritchie's hands! Ritchie throws – Ritchie scores…and that's twenty-ten, Slytherin." I could hear the disappointment in Tracey Weller's voice.

"COME ON, JESSIE!" I heard a voice yell and I could barely suppress my laughter when I saw Fred Weasley, waving his sign like a madman. Julian and Potter were holding up their signs along with him, grinning. "BLOCK THE BLOODY QUAFFLE!"

While the game was going, it was some miracle that Jessica Wood somehow heard Fred screeching like a banshee. She looked at our stand, saw Fred's sign, and I could see the smile from here. Jessie Wood must've been as good as the rumors had it, because Annabel Bletchley chucked the Quaffle at one of the hoops, but Wood looked away from Fred, Potter, and Julian's entourage of signs and knocked it away with her broom into the waiting hands of Ian Winchester, all the way across the pitch.

"And Winchester scores, tying the game once more! This game is shaping up to be quite the match-up, eh, Weller?" roared Lance Jordan.

"Aye, Jordan, and come on, who doesn't like to watch Ian Winchester? The bloke's a bloody masterpiece, good genes he's got––"

"I'm warning you, Weller––"

"Right, right, my bad, Professor," but Tracey Weller didn't exactly sound apologetic.

The game went on like that most of the match. One would pull ahead and the other would tie it right back up. It was like a bloody tennis match, as back and forth as it was. The score came to ninety to one-hundred, Slytherin up by ten.

"Where the hell's the Snitch?" I heard Dom yell over the cheering.

"I reckon we're about to find out!" replied Roxy. She pointed. "Look!"

"Chang to Winchester to Chang again, and back to Matlock––"

"OI! DONOVAN OF THE SLYTHERIN TEAM HAS SPOTTED THE GOLDEN SNITCH!" Jordan interrupted.

Slytherin's Seeker, Ricky Donovan, had taken off after the Golden Snitch, something we couldn't even see from the stands. Alice Lovelace, Gryffindor's Seeker, a nice seventh year, I think, was right on Donovan's tail, not letting him get out of reach. The two knocked into each other on their brooms and I could barely stand to watch! They were quite high off of the ground and if one of them fell…well, I didn't want to think about that.

"LOVELACE PULLS AHEAD AND GOES INTO A NOSEDIVE!" shouted Jordan over the microphone. "Boy, that girl looks good in a Quidditch uniform––"

"Jordan, if you are anything like your father––"

"Sorry, Professor, I do tend to take after him – AND LOVELACE PULLS UP AS DONOVAN CRASHES INTO THE GROUND, what a mark that's going to leave!"

"I reckon that was a Wronski Feint pulled just now by Alice Lovelace, always knew that girl was great Seeker, makin' her best friend proud! GO ALICE!" cheered Tracey Weller.

We could all hear McGonagall's resigned sigh over the microphone as Lance Jordan took over again. "Lovelace reaches – she reaches – she reaches – Merlin's beard, that girl has long arms – LOVELACE HAS DONE IT! She's caught the Golden Snitch! A hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor and they've won, 240 to 100! What a match, though I'm not surprised at all! Dad says Slytherins do tend to be on the awful side––"

"Jordan, if you can't be impartial––"

The microphone shut off, but I wasn't paying much attention anyway. Victoire and Teddy had pulled Dom into a victory hug, Roxy was on Molly's back, hooting and hollering. Potter, Julian, and Fred were jumping up and down, screaming like little girls. Pretty sure I heard Potter's voice crack. Layla Stratton was so excited that she pulled poor Potter away from his friends and kissed him square on the mouth, causing him to be a bit woozy the rest of the time that we cheered. Before I could do anything, someone had picked me up by the armpits and stuck me on someone's shoulders. I recognized blue hair as Teddy Lupin stood up, supporting me. I grinned, though my face had turned a shade of red I was sure wasn't subtle, and yelled along with the lot of them. I heard the Hufflepuff bloke yell, "Sorry for the surprise, but it was Dom's idea!" I saw Dom and Sawyer waving at me from the side, snorting at me, and I stuck my tongue out at the both of them. They knew I thought Teddy was a good-looking bloke. "I'm Teddy, by the way!"

I laughed as I yelled, "Holly McCall! It's nice to finally meet you!"

"I'd gathered that much! Dom talks about you, you know! Says you snarked off to James on the first day you met the twit! Brilliant!" I could see Teddy grin up at me as he tilted his head in my direction only slightly.

I couldn't help it. I felt my cheeks burn up and I was positive I was the color of a tomato. Dom and Sawyer were almost in hysterics. Tossers, they were.

After we'd gotten tired of screaming, Teddy put me down and the lot of us started to exit the stands. Our entire stand stuck together as we walked, Julian and Potter slightly ahead of us. That was when all hell broke loose.

"We'll win next time," said an arrogant voice from the crossing corridor. "Lovelace is a Mudblood. She got lucky, that's all. Donovan's a right brilliant seeker, must've had something in his eye or––"

Marshall Flint cut off as he ran straight into my brother. The git looked in horror at Julian and then at his robes. "Merlin's knickers, you've soiled my robes! I just got these washed, you wanker! Fletcher! Get them off of me!"

Flint's burly friend, Fletcher, helped him out of his robes and held them while Flint whirled angrily on my brother. He shoved him in the chest. "Watch where you're going, McCall," he spat.

Julian, the proud tosser he was, only shoved Flint back. "You watch where you're going, Flint. Maybe you need a set of specs so you can see where you're stepping."

Flint pulled his wand from his pants, his ugly face twisting into a snarl. "Why I ought'a hex you right here and now, McCall, you and your Mudblood sister." Flint had noticed me then, jerking his wand in my direction, and Julian had pulled out his wand as well.

I set my jaw, blood boiling, and took a step forward, but a hand wrapped around my arm. I looked back and saw Teddy Lupin shake his head. "Let the little Gryffindor take care of him," he muttered to me. "As Head Boy, I have to break this up…but no one's made a move yet, so…" I suppressed a snort as Teddy engaged in a rather one-sided conversation with Victoire, his eyes completely away from the predicament before us.

I wriggled my way out of Teddy's grip and stepped forward, but not too close. "Shut your slimy mouth, Flint!" I yelled. "Gryffindor won that match fair and square and you know it!"

"The only thing I know is that if Lovelace hadn't pulled that dirty trick, Donovan wouldn't be in the infirmary! Lovelace is a Mudblood though, so I don't put it past her – or the lot of you, really––"

I was moving my wand, fully ready to hex Flint, when my brother did the most un-wizardlike thing I'd ever seen.

Julian tossed his wand aside and socked Flint right in the nose, just as Dom had after the Sorting Ceremony.

"BOLLOCKS!" Flint yelled, stumbling back. He cupped his nose, which was dripping scarlet drops of blood. His friend Fletcher caught him as he fell backward and Flint shook him off. "Get off me, you big oaf! MCCALL!" he roared. "FLIPEN––"

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" Professor McGonagall came storming from behind us, her emerald cloak billowing. Madam Hooch was hot on her heels, as were Tracey Weller and Lance Jordan.

Just before she reached us, Teddy Lupin's eyes widened and he launched into action, placing himself between Julian and Flint. He stuck a hand on each of their chests and gave each a rough shove. "Quit it, now!" he hollered, and I knew he was yelling loud enough that McGonagall would hear.

"Oh, drop the act, Mr. Lupin." McGonagall waved her hand and sent a disappointed, yet humored look at Teddy. Teddy just grinned sheepishly and backed off.

Madam Hooch hurried Lance Jordan and Tracey Weller past us, and I'm pretty sure I saw Lance Jordan thump Julian on the back and mutter something along the lines of "Nice punch, mate" in his ear.

"Professor!" Flint yelled, instantly playing the wounded card. "Fletcher and I were just walking and McCall assaulted me!"

Everyone started shouting then. I think Potter and Fred were the loudest, arguing that Flint was a lying prat, while Roxy and Dom called Flint a smarmy git. I even heard Teddy toss in a few rather inappropriate descriptions about where Marshall Flint could shove it.

"Quiet!" snapped McGonagall. "Mr. Flint, Mr. McCall, follow me, please. You as well, Mr. Lupin. I expect a full report of what happened. As for the rest of you…twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin for causing a disruption! Now go on, all of you! To your common rooms, or the inter-House! Go!"

The rest of us scurried along rather hurriedly. Of course, I was worried about Julian, but not enough that I was going to stick around. I followed Dom and Roxy, Potter and Fred and the rest of the Weasleys close behind.

I'd only been at Hogwarts for two and a half months and I'd already seen Marshall Flint get punched in the nose twice. Merlin's beard, how was I going to survive an entire year with him, much less six more?!