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Most desperate desire
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November comes, and brings winter with it. The mountains around the school become icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground's covered in frost, and Hagrid can be seen from the upstairs window defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

Quidditch season begins, and the first game of the season is Saturday. While Wood has been trying to keep the true extent of Victor's skill a secret, all of Gryffindor and Slytherin saw him rescue Neville's Remembrall, and no one doubts he'll be something to watch. Whether that's positive or negative depends on the commentator, though—some Slytherins have taken to loudly whispering about what tragic things tend to befall Seekers. Dayo's banter is more lighthearted, but they are one of Slytherin's Beaters, and they do in fact want to win—a fact that, together with their apparent skill at it, does more for their popularity in their House than whatever machinations they've been plotting with Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson.

They do suggest Quidditch Through the Ages as something that could be useful—or at least fun—to read before the game, as trivia or to get to know more about the history and rules of the sport.

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All right. Back to the game, then.

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The Weasleys sorta take turns being nearish Victor, but his broom doesn't do anything weird anymore, and Dayo doesn't send any more Bludgers his way. The game proceeds apace, and Slytherin is winning ninety-fifty when Victor spots the Snitch again.

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Down he goes.

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"And they're at it again, Higgs and Evans—I wonder if Iroko's gonna send a Bludger their way again? Nasty move, that—Evans is getting closer, and flying faster—if any Bludgers are gonna do anything they'd better show up fast—"

And the Snitch is right there—

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- in his hand.

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"EVANS HAS THE SNITCH! GAME OVER! GRYFFINDOR WINS, TWO HUNDRED TO NINETY! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

The stadium erupts into cheers—or just howls of disappointment and anger—almost but not quite drowning out Lee's voice. The Gryffindor team converges on Victor to congratulate him and celebrate.

Flint, on the other hand, is yelling in Dayo's face. Dayo stoically takes it, whatever it is.

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...yeah.

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Eventually everyone lands and starts making their way back to the Castle. Dayo's being sorta shunned by the rest of the team.

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And Ron's waiting for Victor on the ground. "You were awesome! That was awesome! What happened up there?"

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"I think someone cursed my broom."

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Hagrid walks over to them, too. "Cursed yer broom? That's Dark magic, kids can't do that."

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"I don't know who did it, but I don't think it was just the broom. I don't think brooms do that."

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"No, not Nimbus Two Thousands anywho. But well, congrats! What do yer say o' havin' a cup o' tea back at my place?" He glances at Dayo. "An' invite the boy, too."

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"...all right."

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"Erm," says Dayo when invited, "I'm not sure."

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"Are yeh gonna care what 'em wastes o' air think of yeh fer hangin' out?" Hagrid asks, uncannily accurately.

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"...yes? But I guess that ship's sailed. Let's go."

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Muninn chooses this moment to land on Victor's shoulder.

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Victor pats his raven.

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On they go to Hagrid's hut. Dayo is significantly less talkative than usual.

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"I'm sorry I got you in trouble."

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"—it wasn't your fault."

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"It's my fault you ended up hitting your own teammate with a Bludger."

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"Oh no that didn't get me in trouble, that was part of the strategy. I told them if the two of you ever got in a race like that you'd win so I had to stop you even if that hurt Higgs. What got me in trouble is that I didn't do it the second time."

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"...Slytherins are weird."

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