Harry was not playing particularly well. The Seeker named Cho Chang was equally gifted at Quidditch. In the Quidditch final, Harry failed to repeat his legendary feat of catching the Golden Snitch in five minutes. In fact, his broom seemed inexplicably sluggish-or rather, he himself was a little sluggish.
Still, for a final carrying so many people's hopes, that was probably a good thing. After all, even walking from Hogwarts to the Quidditch Pitch took more than five minutes, and thinking up cheers and making cheering props took hours. If the match ended in five minutes, everyone might as well line up in the corridors and watch through telescopes.
"That little girl is really crafty. She's blocked Harry again-don't get impatient, Harry, don't get impatient. Oh, he isn't impatient. He's even smiling at her! Why is she smiling too? This isn't a friendly!" Hagrid's voice boomed as he delivered an impassioned running commentary.
"Bump into her, Harry! Use your arm! If your arm isn't long enough, use your broom! Your dad was never this hesitant on the pitch. Don't let women distract you!"
In the clearing outside Hagrid's Hut, Sirius Black stood on a giant pumpkin, a wineglass in one hand and a telescope in the other, shouting anxiously,
"Honestly, Harry, how can you stand her blocking you over and over-is it just because she's pretty?"
"...Please keep your voices down. Harry can't hear you anyway." Brian lowered his telescope and took a sip of mead, feeling a headache coming on.
Hagrid's booming voice alone had already been more than enough for him. Now Sirius had joined in, and the two cannons on either side of him were firing together,
as though dragging him into the distant Quidditch stands-when avoiding the noise of those stands was precisely why he had