Through the Pages of Time: Joey’s Hogwarts Tale

Joey despised rainy days, especially in winter. If a Quidditch match happened to fall on such a dreary day, her hatred doubled. Today, unfortunately, was one of those days.

Angelina had been trying to wake Joey since early morning, but listening to the cold wind howling outside, Joey had no intention of leaving the warmth of her bed. She wished she were a hatchling, snug inside its nest, never needing to face the bitter chill.

"I don't need breakfast," Joey grumbled from beneath her quilt, her voice laced with misery.

"So, you're not planning to come to the match?" Angelina challenged, hands on her hips. "Today is the final match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. If we lose, we kiss the Quidditch Cup goodbye!"

Joey groaned under her blankets, but at the mention of Gryffindor's fate, she begrudgingly accepted her destiny. Her head, a mess of tangled hair, poked out first, followed by a face that looked half-dead. She sniffled and, with great reluctance, started getting dressed.

"This weather is awful," she muttered, shivering as she pulled on her robes. "I hope every single Slytherin player is stuck in bed with a nasty cold, sniffling under their covers just like I want to be."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Hurry up! I'm not waiting for you. I'm starving!" And with that, she grabbed her hat, gloves, and scarf before bolting out of the dormitory.

"Save me a pork chop!" Joey called after her, receiving a vague response in return. She sighed and went to wash up.

By the time Joey arrived at the Great Hall, Angelina was already on her second croissant.

Angelina nudged Joey and subtly motioned toward the Slytherin table. "Look."

Joey followed her gaze. The Slytherin Quidditch team had finished their breakfast and were huddled together, listening intently to their captain's last-minute strategy. Joey sighed. There was a lot to dislike about Slytherins, but she had to admit—they were never late.

Angelina gestured again, this time toward the Gryffindor table.

Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's Keeper, was rubbing his nose vigorously, a pile of crumpled tissues beside him. Charlie Weasley, Gryffindor's Seeker and captain, looked thoroughly exasperated, swatting at Wood's head. Joey swore that if magic allowed, Charlie would've sealed Wood's nostrils shut just to stop the incessant sniffling.

"You're practically a prophet!" Angelina whispered dramatically. "If Charlie knew, he'd be eternally grateful!"

Joey buried her face into her bread, mumbling for Angelina to stop teasing her.

Angelina merely laughed, relishing her role as the queen, occasionally instructing Joey to pass the pumpkin juice or hand over the ketchup.

Fred and George arrived just in time, catching the tail end of their exchange. Fred, already near the ketchup, passed it over and asked curiously, "What are we playing today? House-elf games?"

"The queen is playing with her maid," Joey quipped, earning a pleased nod from Angelina.

Fred and George exchanged a look. "We'll never understand the world of girls," George sighed, before both turned their focus to breakfast.

Noticing the twins' damp robes, Joey instinctively reached for her wand. "You're wet from outside? I'll dry your clothes—"

Fred shot out a hand, stopping her immediately. "No, please! Leave us at least one pair of underwear!"

Joey blinked in confusion before recalling her past attempts at mastering Professor Flitwick's drying charm. Unfortunately, her practice subjects had often been Fred and George, resulting in all their clothes vanishing into thin air. If not for their quick reflexes and well-placed schoolbags, the entire common room might have witnessed a very indecent sight.

Blushing, Joey hesitated. "I've been practicing. Maybe this time, I can at least leave you with—"

"Nope!" The twins chorused, cutting her off immediately.

Angelina, intrigued by the underwear incident, pressed for details, but none of them were willing to elaborate. Some things were just too embarrassing—even for the mischievous Weasley twins.

The stands were packed despite the miserable weather. Joey and the twins had brought a special treat—a new invention called Lion Marshmallows. Developed for Gryffindor's Quidditch games, these sweets transformed the eater's head into a roaring lion for three minutes. They handed them out to the Gryffindor supporters, who gleefully accepted. One eager third-year boy immediately popped one into his mouth, roaring loudly as his head morphed into a majestic lion, causing the crowd to burst into laughter.

"Hey! Be careful with those! We don't have many, and we're giving them away for free!" Joey scolded, watching him waste his transformation.

The boy quickly apologized, his lion mane drooping in remorse. Fred, ever the soft-hearted twin, handed him another. "Last one, alright? Don't waste it."

Excitement buzzed through the stands as the players took to the field. The Gryffindor team, clad in their crimson uniforms, flew up at Madam Hooch's whistle. Charlie led them in a victory lap around the stadium. Joey, utterly captivated, gripped the railing and cheered at the top of her lungs.

"Charlie, you're amazing!" she screamed, cupping her hands around her mouth for extra volume.

Fred and George, worried she might topple over, each grabbed a hold of her robes.

Charlie seemed to hear her. He waved in their direction, causing Joey and the other girls to shriek even louder. That was the charm of a Quidditch captain.

The Slytherin team soon took to the skies, their stand erupting in cheers. As the Gryffindor team passed by, the Slytherins hurled jeers and insults their way.

"Hillbilly!" Delton Shafiq sneered from the stands, targeting the Gryffindor supporters.

Joey bristled. "You're the hillbilly! Your whole family is hillbilly!" she snapped, attempting to climb the railing to retaliate.

Fred and George barely managed to pull her back before she could hex someone.

A fourth-year Gryffindor girl suddenly shouted, "Hey, Delton! Didn't your father just get arrested? Released so soon?"

Delton paled but quickly masked it with a sneer. "Enjoy your moment. Sooner or later—"

"Delton!" The Slytherin captain cut him off, dragging him back. "The game is about to start!"

Delton spat a final insult under his breath before stalking off. The Slytherin captain turned to his team. "Knock them down on the field! This is about honor!"

The Gryffindors erupted in protest. "We'll beat YOU down! Gryffindors are fearless! Gryffindors are invincible!"

From the teacher's stand, Professor McGonagall smiled at Snape. "Look at our students, so passionate!"

Snape scoffed. "Passionate like a bunch of monkeys."

The match was brutal, with Slytherin's strategy divided between disciplined play and outright aggression. But in the end, despite injuries and foul play, Charlie Weasley caught the Snitch, securing Gryffindor's victory.

As the Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers, Joey threw herself into the celebrating crowd. They had won! Gryffindor had triumphed!

Long live Gryffindor!