Chapter 216 - Fooking Records!

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The link is also in the synopsis.

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As the first Quidditch match of the season, Slytherin versus Ravenclaw, drew nearer, the excitement in the castle grew as well — The fact that the Quidditch Cup had not been held for so long added considerably the interest and excitement surrounding the forthcoming game — after all, while Quinn's Quidditch tournament was new and exciting with ten brand new teams, there was nothing more invigorating and blood boiling than a long stand House rivalry.

The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were taking a lively interest in the outcome, for they, of course, would be playing both teams over the coming year; and the Heads of House of the competing teams, though they attempted to disguise it under a decent pretense of sportsmanship, were determined to see their side's victory.

Many had soon realized how much Flitwick cared about beating Slytherin when he abstained from giving the Ravenclaw Quidditch team members homework in the week leading up to the match.

"I think you've got enough to be getting on with at the moment," he had said squeakily. Nobody could quite believe their ears until she looked directly at Eddie and Cho and said grimly, "I've grown sick of seeing the Quidditch Cup in Minerva's study, and neither do I want to see it in Severus' dingy dungeon office nor in Pomona's plant-infested study. So, use the extra time to practice, won't you?"

Snape was no less obviously partisan: He had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Ravenclaw had difficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Ravenclaw players in the corridors. When Hailey Chambers, Chaser, turned up in the hospital wing with her eyebrows growing so thick and fast that they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth, Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair-Thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to the fourteen eyewitnesses who insisted that they had seen the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, hit her from behind with a jinx while she worked in the library. But he was quick to give detention to Eddie when he had — Depulso'd —Miles Bletchley into the wall from behind, smashing the Slytherin Keeper's nose badly.

Despite being penalized with detention, Eddie felt optimistic about Ravenclaw's chances; no way in hell were they going to lose to snakes. Admittedly the lack of practice time did hurt the in-synergy between the three Chasers and two Beaters. On the other hand, they also had spikes of greatness with point-perfect pass routes by Chasers and interceptions by the Beaters: During one memorable practice, the Chaser trio had passed the balls twenty-five times in one play to absolutely confuse the Beaters on who to go after to get the ball; on that day, they weren't able to intercept a single pass as the Quaffle moved a bit too quickly for them to pick it.

In one of the open group discussions, Cho had said that Eddie looked much better with the Quaffle than he did last year — which was to say something given that he was by far the best Chaser in the previous year's tournament — that there was a focus in his eyes that scared even the Ravenclaw Beaters, even though they weren't going to play him in a match.

Even Slytherin's tactics of trying to rile Eddie up were failing spectacularly. How were they supposed to rile a guy up who would rile them up every time he opened his mouth, and after the Miles Bletchley incident, no one in Slytherin dared to curse Eddie in freat of brutal retaliation.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain, and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly gray, the mountains around Hogwarts became snowcapped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. When Quinn woke up, he looked around at Eddie's bed and saw him sitting bolt upright, his legs crossed with his hands resting on his knees as he stared fixedly into space.

"You all right?" asked Quinn.

Eddie nodded but did not speak. The two didn't exchange a single word that day during their morning workout session — Eddie knew what to do on a game day morning, and Quinn didn't want to disturb whatever was going on.

The Great Hall was filling up fast when they arrived — the talk louder and the mood more exuberant than usual. The Ravenclaw and Slytherin House table being next to each other, when Quinn, Eddie, and Marcus, walked through the space between the table, the Slytherin Quidditch members spoke up,

"Hey, Eddie-boy, I heard Warrington's sworn to knock you off your broom."

Eddie turned to the laughing Slytherin lads and shrugged, "Warrington's aim's so pathetic I'd be more worried if he was aiming for the person next to me," he retorted calmly, which made Quinn and Marcus guffaw and wiped the smirks of the Slytherin's face.

"Get yourself a bed booked in Hospital Wing, Carmichael," said Warrington, Beater. "Who knows, you might just crash into the pitch like last year. . ."

"Well, then I'll go out like a tough son of a wand, and not like a whiny little bitch like you who cries out for mum every time someone does as much as touch you," scoffed Eddie.

Warrington's face darkened, and he stood up from his chair. He was taller than so Eddie had to look up at him when he walked closer.

"You wanna fight, big boy?" said Eddie.

"Don't push your luck, Carmichael," said Warrington, threatening.

Eddie lightly chuckled and stepped very close to Warrington, "How about you pinch yourself, you might be dreaming about beating me up; it'd do you good to wake up and apologize to me, big bitch."

Behind Eddie, Quinn leaned towards Marcus and whispered, "He seems unusually calm today."

Marcus nodded, "He indeed seems quieter today."

After the heated stand-off was broken off, they sat down to have their breakfast.

"How're you feeling?" Marcus asked Eddie, who was pilling up food onto his plate, stocking himself up for the game. "Are you nervous?"

"Some nervousness is good; it keeps you on your toes," said Quinn chiming in.

"Hello," said the vague, dreamy, and, more importantly, familiar voice from behind him. Eddie looked up: Luna stood there behind and close to him. Many people were staring at her and a few openly laughing and pointing; she had managed to procure a hat shaped like a larger-than-life-sized eagle's head, which was perched precariously on her head.

"Ah, so this was what you were making, huh," said Quinn in understanding. He had seen her, in passing, huddled up in the corner of the workshop, making something.

"I'm supporting Ravenclaw," said Luna, pointing unnecessarily at her hat. "Look what it does . . ."

She reached up and tapped the hat with her wand. It opened its mouth wide and gave an incredibly realistic eagle's peal that made everyone in the vicinity jump.

"It's good, isn't it?" said Luna happily. "I wanted to have it chewing up a serpent to represent Slytherin, you know, but there wasn't time. Anyway . . . good luck, Eddie!"

Then she drifted away.

"Luna! What about breakfast?" called Quinn, but the blonde with the eagle hat was already in her own world.

They had not quite recovered from Luna's hat before Roger came hurrying toward them, accompanied by Cho and Hailey, whose eyebrows had mercifully been returned to normal by Madam Pomfrey.

'',

"When you're ready," said Roger, "we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions, and change."

"I'm ready, I woke up ready, I came to Hogwarts ready, I drank my mum's milk ready, I was born ready," said Eddie. As he got up, Quinn got up, looing his arm around Marcus' neck.

"I bet that Eddie is going to massacre anyone and everyone in his way," he said.

"I thought you weren't allowed to bet," said Marcus pumping a brow up.

"That was last year," said Quinn, silently shooting a list pinching hex into Warrington's butt, who immediately yelped while jumping. "With Umbridge here, I can't open up a gambling den; she would slam it shut and take away AID for that. . . but that doesn't mean we," he shook Marcus a little, "can't have a friendly, off-the-books, teeny-tiny bet."

"But I too want to bet on Eddie kicking everybody's arse today."

"Ah, but we can't bet on the same side," Quinn looked around the Great Hall, "maybe we can find the Harry Potter and scam some money out of him — no way he's going to bet in Eddie's favor."

The mention of Potter made Marcus remember something and someone.

"Hey, Quinn," he asked.

"Hmm?"

"There's a girl that likes you."

Quinn turned his head towards Marcus with a 'where-did-that-come-from' expression. There was also the point that Quinn did time-to-time get confessed to (the number would have been higher if the girls could get a hold of Quinn more.) So Marcus and Eddie never brought 'a girl liking him' into their conversation as he had rejected every confession.

"Well, it came from Hermione' ever-so-serious' Granger. . . thought that I should bring it up," said Marcus.

"Hermione's friend. . . did she say who specifically it was?"

"Nuh-uh, she didn't. . . I think she's the one who likes you."

"Na," said Quinn waving that chain of thought off, "Hermione likes Harry. . . that much is clearly obvious from last year's Yule Ball. . . well, whatever, we'll see whenever this 'friend' of her arrives, if she does that is."

"You aren't curious at all?"

". . . No."

Marcus stared at Quinn as his best friend stayed silent, refusing to comment. "You're thinking who she is, aren't you?"

"Am not," said Quinn a bit too quickly.

"Yeah, right."

That conversation died the second they stepped outside the Entrance Hall, down the steps, and out into the icy air.

The frosty grass crunched under their feet as they hurried down the sloping lawns toward the stadium. There was no wind at all, and the sky was a uniform pearly white, which meant that visibility would be good without the drawback of direct sunlight in the eyes. That could mean that the Seekers would be able to spot the snitch easier, the Keepers would have a clear view of the Quaffle, the Chasers would have a clearer view of the incoming Bludgers, and the Beaters would have a clear view of who set the Beaters on. Overall, the weather had set up the scene for the game to be an excellent one.

Quinn sat down on the commentator's chair and dragged his palms over the armrest with a smile as he exhaled deeply. He could hear hundreds of footsteps mounting the banked benches of the spectators' stands now. Some people were singing, though Quinn could not make out the words.

"It's good to be back," said Quinn before turning back to the Professors. "Good Afternoon, all of you. . . looking sharp for the opening day game."

The Professors, however, were dressed as they did every day, except for Flitwick and McGonagall, who both had worn robes with House shades, showing their silent support.

"Ready for another season of commentary, Mr. West?" asked Sprout smiling a homely smile.

"The weather is excellent; the company is excellent; I'm feeling chipper; I can safely say that this season is going to be a great one," said Quinn with a beaming smile as he roamed his eyes over the Professors, including one pink person, who had a fake, plastic smile plastered over her face.

"Alright, let's get started," said Quinn as he grabbed the microphone and pumped magic into it, "GOOOOD MOOOORNING, HOGWARTS!!! I welcome all of you to yet another season of Quidditch Cup, brought to you by the Four Houses of Hogwarts. Let's beat the cold by making some noise; give some yells to heat the stadium up."

There was a positively enthusiastic response akin to an army going out to war, causing a beaming plastic on his face.

"Okay, people! That! Was! Nice!" spoke Quinn into the microphone and then looked at from a list in his hands. "I've only just found out the final lineup for Slytherin. Last year's Beaters, Derrick and Bole, have left now, but it looks as though Montague's replaced them with. . . ah, two blokes called Crabbe and Goyle — I'd say an interesting choice from Slytherin.

"From the Ravenclaw side, there is only one change from the team two years ago because of the team being youngest of all four at that time. . . Eddie Carmichael, the Best Chaser from the last year's Quidditch Tournament, will be officially donning the Ravenclaw colors for the first time in his debut game."

There was a fanatic cheer from the Ravenclaw stands at Eddie being mentioned. He hadn't officially played a game, but he was already the star player.

"Now, let's bring the two teams in. Feast your eyes on the serpents and the eagles! Welcome the predators of land and air!"

Both teams came out of their tunnels, already mounted their brooms, in a single file and into the dazzling sky. They circled the stands once as the roaring sounds greeted them with a mixture of cheers and whistles.

On the middle of the pitch, both teams gathered, still in two single files. And as the game hadn't started, it was time for the resident Ravenclaw foul-mouth to shine.

"So, snakes," said Eddie plainly as if bored, "I'm really interested in the outcome of this year's Quidditch Cup," he raised his arm to observe his gloved hand, "interested in who's going to finish in the second place. I wish you the best of luck so that you can at least finish on the podium." He looked up at them with a smirk oozing with smugness and confidence.

The Ravenclaw members smiled as the Slytherin's face's dropped.

"Your arrogance astounds me, Carmichael," said Bole from Slytherin.

Eddie jutted out his lower lip and shook his head as he spoke, "I'm not arrogant; I'm just that good. It ain't braggin' if you can back it up. . . That can't be said for you, unfortunately."

Bole was about to say something, but Madam Hooch approached the teams, and before she could say anything, Eddie spoke up.

'ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ Novel(B) in.ᴄᴏᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜰᴀsᴛᴇʀ ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ sᴘᴇᴇᴅ.',

"Madam Hooch, can you please make it a rule this year that the other teams aren't allowed to cover me with just one person? They must bring at least two people if they want to defend against me because that one unfortunate bloke who would cover me on his own would suffer the most embarrassing moments of their life. . . at least if there were two, they could share the blame for the rest of their lives."

Madam Hooch sighed and turned to the two captains.

"Captains shake hands," ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, as Roger and Montague reached each other. Eddie could tell that Montague was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though he did not wince. "Mount your brooms . . ."

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

The balls were released, and the fourteen players shot in various directions; out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see the Quaffle going up in slow motion. It was done in an instant; his broom changed direction, and he zoomed up toward the blue ball.

Derrick, a Slytherin Chaser, grinned wildly as he reached out his hands towards the flying Quaffle — he was going to score the first goal of the season.

'Yes!' he thought as his fingertips were barely an inch away from the Quaffle, but then his eye caught a set of fingers in their sight, then a complete hand. . . half an arm till the elbow. . . entire arm with a shoulder. . . and soon Derrick's sight was covered by Eddie Carmichael grabbing the Quaffle.

But it was just for an instant as Eddie disappeared from his sight.

"Huh?" uttered Derrick, and he looked to his left, but there was no sign of Eddie, "where—"

His voice died down in his throat as the cheers of the crowd drowned him out, and the commentary sounded out.

"GOAL!! The first goal of the season is scored, and it's by none other than EDDIE CARMICHEAL!!!"

"Haaa?!" yelled Derrick and turned towards the Slytherin's goal, and his eyes widened as a flash passed by him — it was Eddie Carmichael. He flew past him without giving Derrick a single glance — the game was, and gone with it was Eddie's trash talk.

That day. . .

"And it's Carmichael, Carmichael with the Quaffle, what a player that man is, I've been seeing him play for years, all I can say that he whines too much. . . Oh! HE SCORES!"

That day. . .

". . . and he's ducked Warrington, he's passed Montague, Carmichael's — ouch — been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe. . . . Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there from Howard Bonnet, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Roger Davies, Roger Davies of Ravenclaw reverse passes to Carmichael, and he's away — ah! what speed, what maneuverability with the broom — ah, HE SCORES once again."

That day. . .

The chants of "Sieve, Sieve, Sieve, Sieve" from Ravenclaw covered the stadium as Slytherin's Keeper's ability was all but absent in front of Eddie.

That day. . .

All it took was two hours — in two hours, Ravenclaw had a 100 point lead on Slytherin with a score of 210-60, with Eddie scoring 120 points on his own.

That day. . .

"We're seeing history, my friends," said Quinn, genuinely hyped as he stood near the same railing that he had broken, "120 points, 12 goals, 7 assists, and in a rare feat by a Chaser, 6 steals. . . Eddie Carmichael has broken the previous long-standing Chaser record for joint stat line in a single Hogwarts game. . . by 40 points, 4 goals, 1 assist, and 3 steals."

A minute after Quinn's announcement, the worst thing for Slytherin happened as Cho Chang caught the snitch, putting an end to the game with the final score of 360-60. . . a 300 point crushing, crippling defeat.

At the end of the game, Eddie took out his wand from his robes and flew to the center of the pitch, and cast a — "SONOROUS."

"Listen up all of your, be it Slytherin, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor. I, Eddie Carmichael, declare this in front of all of you — We. Are. Going. To. Win. Every. Single. Game. This year, we will win the Quidditch Cup with an undefeated season. . . so, get ready to swallow defeat and pray to whoever you believe in that your teams come out of this because. . ."

He filled his lungs with air.

"WE'RE HERE NOT TO TAKE PART. WE'RE HERE TO TAKE OVER!"

Then a maniacal laugh filled the stadium.

"You guys are so screwed, hahahaha!"

The amount of garbage that was thrown from the stands also broke the previous records.

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Quinn West - MC - Nuh-uh, I ain't thinking. . .

Eddie Carmichael - Record-breaking Chaser - Records? I break records for pass time.

Marcus Belby - Best friend - Did you think I won't tell?

FictionOnlyReader - Author - Eddie really is one of my fav. characters. | Day-1 of 4 over. Subject 2 of 7 are done. The weather report is Janky Schedule for the rest of mid-terms. Let's keep the hustle alive.

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