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!"
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