LOOK BEFORE YOU FALL.

"There are one hundred shades of green in Al Potter's eyes"

Shut up. I'm not one of his obsessed fan girls.

I'm just in love"

People fall in and out of love so easily. Like it's nothing but a passing infatuation. But if the one you fall in love with can make you laugh so hard your sides ache and they can make you cry until there's nothing left all at the same time, if you feel the weight of it crushing your soul and everything they do makes your heart shatter, you're gone.

Chapter 1: Fascist Quidditch Captains.

Never, in all my life, have I felt such hatred concentrated on one thing – or rather, one person. Namely Albus Potter.

For two bloody hours he has made me do laps of this pitch. In a thunderstorm, no less.

Why, you ask? All because I showed up a little bit late to practice.

And it's not as though I didn't have a perfectly legitimate excuse! I'm taking eight NEWT classes; it's not MY fault all the Professors decide to give out ridiculous amounts of homework on the same day.

Yeah, not so convenient when your Quidditch captain's a bloody Nazi.

I narrowed my eyes against the heavy rain as I pushed my body into another merciless sprint to the end of the Quidditch pitch, my heart pounding for oxygen. Bloody Potter. Honestly, it's not as though anything particularly important happens in the first ten minutes of practice. Just his usual tirade about the importance of winning.

And despite my reasonable excuse, I land myself a lovely set of pitch sprints. Suicides, they're called. How fucking fitting.

Thunder crashed overhead and the rain increased, I could barely see three feet in front of my face. In this case, 'torrential downpour' would be an understatement.

My calf muscles burned and my pounding head was screaming for release, but I didn't stop. I would not give Potter the satisfaction of making me start again.

I picked up the pace slightly as I thought bitterly 'one hundred and seventy-nine down, twenty one to go'. Fucking Potter. I was going to pound that kid's ass into the mud.

Then I'd upload it to YouTube.

Twenty exhausting minutes later, I collapsed at the edge of the pitch. I didn't care that I was lying in mud that was about five inches deep, or that I was probably going to get pneumonia from being out here for so long. Every inch of my body felt as if it had been pelted with Bludgers.

I fucking hate Albus Potter.

"Was that too much for you Mclair?"

Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear.

I jumped to my feet and immediately regretted it. I hissed in pain as my limbs protested.

"Fuck you, Potter" I spat

"Dear, dear. That's no way to speak to your captain, is it Mclair? Would you like to do another set of pitch sprints?"

I gave him the most furious glare I could muster before attempting to storm off to the change rooms. I got about two feet before I fell flat on my face.

"Watch yourself, Mclair" Potter called. I could hear the laughter in his voice. Pig.

I picked myself up and turned to face him. "I've finished my sprints Potter. Why are you still here?"

"I have to make sure everyone is safely off the pitch, or I lose my captaincy" he told me, making my eyes light up with hope.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. So get off or I'll make you get off"

I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him, this time being more careful as I walked towards the changing rooms.

I pushed open the door and grabbed a towel from the pile to my left, then made my way over to the showers. I stripped off my kit and stepped under the scalding hot water. I sighed as it washed over me, soothing my tight muscles.

"Mclair, you still in here?" I heard Potter call some ten minutes later.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, so leave"

"I can't leave 'till you do, Mclair. School rule"

I sighed as I shut off the water and wrapped myself in my towel. "Why do I get the feeling you're making these rules up?" I accused as I made my way over to my locker.

"Obviously I want to spend loads of extra time with you" said Potter, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Touché.

I pulled my clothes out of my locker and dressed as slowly as I could. I could hear Potter huffing on the other side of the wall.

The rain was still bucketing down as I left the changing room with Potter a few paces behind me. I bowed my head and walked as quickly as I could up to the castle.

"Practice tomorrow morning, Mclair. Five o'clock" stated Potter as we reached the Entrance Hall.

I glared resentfully at him. Trust Potter to make practice at five o'clock on a Saturday morning.

"I'm serious, Mclair, I want you there on time" he told me. "Not five thirty, not five o' bloody two. Five"

Did I mention that I fucking HATE Albus Potter?

This will be my first chaptered fic. Hope you like it :)
Let me know what you think in a review.
Ellie.