On the Quidditch Pitch, amid a sea of cheers and shouts, two teams-one in red, one in green-flew out of the Common Rooms beneath the stands on opposite sides.
Each team's seven players streaked forward like seven bolts of lightning, charging toward their opponents under their captain's lead.
Just before they collided, they veered in opposite directions, then spent a minute circling the stands clockwise, waving to the young witches and wizards cheering them on.
Meanwhile, in the main stand, Lee Jordan unleashed his sharpest tongue once again.
"Ha! Gryffindor's players are really determined today. Every one of them has tied on a red victory band.
"They're coming in like gods of fire on billowing red clouds, ready to deal a crushing blow to the brand-new Slytherin Quidditch Team led by the Dark Lord.
"Who will come out on top? Let's wait and see.
"Wood, you'd better keep those puppy-dog eyes wide open. Let in even one goal, and I'll squeeze Muggle toothpaste into your shoes in the middle of the night!"
"Ahem."
Behind Lee Jordan, McGonagall interrupted him out of habit, stopping this unreliable commentator, who nevertheless knew just how to whip up the crowd, from spouting more nonsense.
Lee Jordan merely paused before wavering again.
"Look! Slytherin's Quidditch team is performing flying stunts under the Dark Lor- ahem, under the Deputy Headmaster's lead, interacting with their full-house Slytherin Cheerleading Squad.
"Hey, they look just like seven green mantises hopping aimlessly around the grass. Very nimble indeed.
"Oh, look, everyone! The Dark Lord certainly lives up to his name. Even his Bats are different. Is that a spatula? Or a big iron ladle?"
"Oh no! Is the Dark Lord planning to grill Gryffindor's seven players on the pitch today and eat them?"
McGonagall felt utterly exhausted. She decided to