Welcome Hogwarts alumni, professors, peers, and exalted guests to the long-awaited match between Gryffindor's amazing Quidditch team and Slytherin's abysmal- "JORDAN!" McGonagall bellowed. "Err. Slytherin's opposing team." Lee shot the professor a shrug.
"As many of you are aware. at least, anyone literate, so I can't speak for the Slytherins- this match today will be absolutely unique. Due to the utter foolishness of the Co-Captains of the Gryffindor team, the players in fourth form and upwards will be playing in the buff. Hence the packed crowd. I daresay, glancing over the crowds around me, you're all either hankering for a look at our luscious lady-Chasers or awaiting Harry Potter's masculine wonder." "JORDAN!
WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" "Professor.
it's not like nearly everyone here HASN'T bought one of those calendars." Lee protested in an aside. "Stay focused on the game, Jordan. Not the uniforms." "Or lack thereof." Lee smirked.
"Or lack thereof." McGonagall nodded, her face set in a severe disapproving frown. "Stick to the facts, Jordan. Ungarnished. Advise of the security methods so the fans don't panic at the sight of dragons." Lee rolled his eyes, but lifted his wand again.
"Before the game commences, I would like to advise all our viewers of some necessary security precautions. Occasionally, you will see dragons flying high overhead.
These are Dragonguards, not wild dragons that just happened to visit our field full of lush human bodies." "JORDAN." "In addition, because of a suspected danger of You-Know-Who's forces attacking, we've done much to antagonize the ol' git into a full fit of incompetence.
Most of you were encouraged to wear the Moldiemort robes, a fine line of product from Moldiemort Inc., a company headed by Harry Potter as CEO, and his lovely right hand Ginny Weasley, of the Weasley family, as his Executive President.
This company is offering many wonderful items, with new material coming out in the upcoming days. Many of you already have "The Naked Quidditch" calendar, featuring the likes of Oliver Wood, our own former Gryffindor captain and team keeper, and Victor Krum, the sensational seeker from Bulgaria.
The star attraction, however, is Harry Potter in all his natural glory!
More of which you'll all have the privilege to see today. And the boy is slick, ladies." "JORDAN! STOP PROMOTING. " Her voice trailed off as she searched for a tactful way to explain her demands.
"Harry's assets?" Lee asked innocently. "Yes." She glared fiercely. Jordan coughed discretely, and once again raised his wand "In any case, the promotional items and banners while they may entice you into purchasing are more to distract attention of any malevolent sort.
Aurors are strategically placed around the fields, stadium and school, and the charms in place are enough to knock any nasty Dark Wizard right on his tail. In the event of an assault, please do not panic and allow the defensive wizards, dragons, and charms do their work." Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched McGonagall sigh in relief, and smirked to himself.
It was just so fun goading their stern Deputy Headmistress with the innuendo and side comments. "Now, before players take the field, the roster for today's game is as follows: For the Gryffindor team: Co-Captains, and Bludgers.
err Beaters Fred and George Weasley, the prats who got our beloved heroes in this mess." "Jordan, I'm warning you." McGonagall growled lowly, yet the entire stadium still heard her.
"Chasers for Gryffindor are the lovely and talented Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and the unconquerable Katie Bell." The cheers and whistles rocked the stadium. "New to the team, and welcome addition is third-year Alex Mercado as Keeper, who, due to the restrictions on the bet gets to guard the goals in his uniform." Laughter and applause sounded clearly, and in true style, the crescendo was rising.
"And, Seeker-extraordinaire, the man who has NEVER missed a Snitch the one." The screams began, "The ONLY" and whistles, hoots and chants echoed, "HARRY POTTER!" The roar of the stadium was deafening. Just to his side, he heard McGonagall's resigned sigh. Well, what commentator would ignore the fact that not only was Harry a celebrity to the wizarding world, he was a Quidditch super-star in the making?
Goodness, he had his own promotional merchandise to make him a very wealthy man before he left school. Lee paused long enough to let the cheers fade somewhat. "And, the Slytherin gits." "JORDAN!" Goodness, the woman had impeccable timing and volume. "Team," he amended hastily. "The Slytherin team is as follows: Captain and Chaser Marcus Flint." Music to his ears, short of the small contingent of Slytherins (past and present), most of the stadium roared with resounding 'boos.' "Chasers Denis Warrington, Christoph Montague.
In the position of Beaters, though they're bloody Bludgers on their own, (Heh.) Iggy Bole and Gunter Derrick. Incompetent Keeper will mind the goals, and playing Seeker since he bought his way onto the team." "JORDAN! STOP THAT RIGHT." "Draco Malfoy and his shiny Nimbus 2001 collection, sported by all his lovely well-purchased team members." "JORDAN, IF YOU DON'T STOP RIGHT THIS INSTANT!" "Sorry Professor, my house loyalty got in my way," he apologized adroitly. He grinned cheekily.
"Now, if we can have everyone stand, let's have it for the Hogwarts School Song." With a great deal of chaotic noise, all attendees stood, their right arm crossing their breast in a patriotic gesture that placed hand above heart. Then, and only then, did the greatest known tragedy of what it meant to be a wizard begin. The slaughter of music was profound. Caterwauling in the extreme, and Jordan, despite his patriotic love of the game of Quidditch, his role of commentator and the wizarding world he lived in, had to shudder.
Fortunately, the murder of their beloved anthem ended quickly. "Right. Lovely folks. just lovely. Well, with all the preambles out of the way. let's play QUIDDITCH!" Again, the crowds roared their approval. Lee glanced down to the changing room doors that led out to the pitch and absently wondered what was happening in the Gryffindor changing rooms.
Oh, to be a fly on those walls. Especially with all the extra compound eyes just to gaze wondrously at the team Chasers. He sighed lustily, wincing when McGonagall glared at him. A flurry of action hit the field as the Slytherin team burst from their change room, their green and silver uniforms a sharp contrast to the blue sky and fluffy white clouds.
"And, out first are the Slytherins. FLINT, WARRINGTON, MONTAGUE, BOLE, DERRICK, BLETCHLY and. MALFOY!" The cheering was more for the game about to start than anything else. Now, the crowds gazed with avid fascination towards the area where the Gryffindor team would emerge. The tension was palpable, the hunger just delicious. Glancing around, Lee spotted Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger sitting complacently in one of the best boxes of the stadium. They looked calm, very nonchalant and completely at ease with all that was happening around them.
Well, if rumor was true, Ginny had seen up close and personal the most prized package the school had to offer. She could afford to be blasé. But, Hermione? Well, perhaps she did hanker for Ron more than Harry, contrary to the pool in the tower. He'd have to change his bet. It couldn't have been more than seconds, but it felt like an eternity before the Gryffindor team burst from the sidelines.
the sudden gasp of the crowd and then insane screaming spoke volumes for what was happening. Keeper Alex Mercado, took to his position in his maroon and gold uniform, the wild grin on his face infinitely more evil than any Slytherin was capable of. "AND THE GRYFFINDOR TEAM. WEASLEY, WEASLEY, BELL, JOHNSON, SPINNET, MERCADO and. POTTER!" Blue blurs shot past the commentator's booth and Lee had to wipe his eyes and stare again just to be sure he saw what he thought he'd seen.
The idiots had done it. They'd actually gone and dyed themselves with woad. "And for those people out there who are ogling the fine specimens of Gryffindor flesh, the blue twits are the Weasley twins. I hope they realize that woad won't come out of their skin for another month or so." The laughter was uproarious. There was a bit of a murmur about the girls, skirting around in their robes with their hair down and faces glowing. Some token protests echoed in the crowds, and all it did was make the three chasers smile most bewitchingly.
Wisely, Lee held onto the desk firmly. With a flick of their wrist, and in perfect time, the cloaks were tossed aside, drifting the ground like chiffon scarves on the wind.
The girls sat cockily on their broomsticks in bras and little pleated skirts, with knee high boots gracing their long, long legs. "Oh dear," Lee mumbled. McGonagall just muttered to herself, one hand braced over her eyes as she shook her head. Poor woman seemed in pain. In a quick action, Katie, Alicia, and Angelina lost one boot. the three black boots falling in almost a prearranged pattern to the ground as they whipped by the stands, giving the crowds quite the eyeful.
The other boot nipped away seconds later, then the skirts, leaving only string bikini bottoms and bras. "We should have done a pool on what male in the stadium wouldn't get a woody," Lee muttered to himself. "Damn." The bras vanished next and the roar in the stadium, a masculine sound of pure testosterone, was powerful. Then, the bikini bottoms and there was such a groan.
"Oh dear," Lee squeaked. "Err. well. seems all is in order by rules for this match." He didn't notice the break in his voice. High above all the rigmarole sat Potter, shoulders back, his body poised proudly on display and looking like a virtual Adonis.
If all the men in the stadium were gawking at the girls, then every female in the stadium was glued to Potter. Hell, just looking at the wizarding world's own adolescent hero, Lee had to admit that if it weren't for the fact that he was firmly heterosexual, he would have been tempted.
Interesting how Draco seemed to be sniffing about quite closely to Potter. "The teams are taking their positions, and it looks like the game is already in the bag for the Gryffindors. The Slytherin Seeker can't seem to identify the difference between the Golden Snitch and Potter's." "JORDAN!" McGonagall's screech was beyond simply outraged.
"Err." Jordan winced. Madam Hooch fortunately took this opportunity to signal both teams from the centre of the field.
Clearly, her voice amplified by charm, she opened the game in her usual style. "I want a nice fair game, all of you," she insisted, glaring fiercely at the Captains (and Co-Captains) of both teams. "The players assume position, in preparation for the release of the Quaffle." Lee was back to business. "Madam Hooch raises the whistle and. the Quaffle is released.
Katie Bell, one of the best Chasers ever out of Gryffindor takes possession of the Quaffle, shifting her little arse a little for a bit of wiggle to distract the Slytherin Beater-boys most successfully." "JORDAN!" "Captain Marcus Flint cuts across to joust Bell for the Quaff.
Spinnet to the rescue, and I bet Flint got an eyeful there. Katie passes back to Angelina and. look at those breasts bounce!" "JORDAN!" McGonagall's voice reached upper octaves.
"Did I say that aloud? Oops. Johnson takes possession of the Quaffle, passes long back to Alicia and. Bletchly dives to intercept. SCORE! Ten points for Gryffindor!
Slytherin takes possession. Chaser Montague ducks one Bludger and dives to evade Spinnet. Speeding toward the goals, his own teammates Bole and Derrick keep aiming Bludgers to keep Gryffindor Chasersclear. Oh-ho. he shoots. Mercado dives and blocks the score.
Ten-nothing, Gryffindor!" "Johnson takes control of the Quaffle and. what the HELL?" McGonagall leapt to her feet, mouth gaping-but not in response to Jordan, rather at the sudden spectacle manifesting on the pitch. She disappeared in a flurry of robes.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have Death Eaters on the pitch!" It took a moment of squinting, but Lee eventually managed to establish details of what was happening below. And, appropriately, refocused on his priorities. "The teams are continuing to play.
Warrington has the Quaffle, swerves to evade Johnson and- OUCH. Bell takes possession. Tosses to Spinnet who ducks under the Bludger with a brilliant dive. Comes right on Bole. who should have jigged instead of jagged. That Bludger to the ribs has got to smart." It was at this point that the Death Eaters seemed to figure out what they were doing. Concurrently, Jordan noticed, the Moldiemort board above the pitch lit up with some new adverts for Potter's latest project.
"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" A black-robed Death Eater jumped up and down hysterically. "I WANT POTTER DEAD! " Lee grinned. "Ladies and gents! What a rare treat! For those of you doubting the return You-Know-Who, please take note of the jumping-bean lunatic on the field." Truly, for the Dark Lord, he was a pathetic sight. All pearly skin, his eyes slits and nose mere slits. the resemblance to something serpentine was profound.
The foam at the corners of the mouth, though. "Ah, I see Lucius Malfoy and Vincent Goyle, Sr. are in attendance with their master," Lee chortled as Voldemort's histrionics resulted in removing the masks and hoods off his two followers. "KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" A sudden flurry of activity above caught the attention of all in the stadium, including the Death Eaters. It was as if Harry Potter had deigned to give Voldemort a shot at his greatest wish.
Swooping in a spectacular dive, and evading hexes tossed at him by the Death Eaters, he dropped straight for Voldemort's position. "KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" "Potter's apparently lost his mind." Jordan leaned forward, puzzled.
The game around them continued, with lively distraction on the part of the players as a result of Potter's sudden action. "And I." Harry was within a meter of the Dark Lord when his hand lifted off the broom and shot out towards Voldemort.
All the spectators that could see Harry's face watched him speak a brief few words to the Dark Lord, and then in a sweeping pass, his hand nipped into Voldemort's hood and extracted quickly the Golden Snitch in his grip. "One hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor! The cheek of Potter! His eye was firmly on the Snitch there, folks, and the game is concluded. One hundred and seventy points for Gryffindor, the victors!" Lee paused. "Hot damn! That may be one of the shortest games in Quidditch history!"