15. Hurling Hex
For just a spilt second, Charlie Weasley wondered how he had gotten into this position. And then there was no more time to wonder anything. He clung to his broom fiercely to keep from flying off and plunging down to the bottom of the stadium. As the wind whipped past his ears and through his flaming orange hair, reflecting in the Saturday sun, he could hear the loud cries of protest from his housemates, their cries like the loud roar of a lion. Charlie tried desperately as his broom rocked violently back and forth to try and think which dirty bloke on the Slytherin team had a chance to hex his broom before the match. And not to puke.
And then he remembered. Miles Bletchley. Before the game, Charlie remembered with a blush that nearly brought up his lunch with him still jolting up and down on his broom. He was snogging a cute sixth year behind the Gryffindor banners - Miles must have done it then. But there was no way he could prove it. He heard a faint whistle and the victorious cries of Slytherin competing with the uproar from his house, and knew Slytherin had caught the snitch.
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[RIGHT] Always... |