Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, related trademarks, characters, or ideas.
Summary: Montague has a chance to save Angelina Johnson, again.
Once More
Angelina Johnson was pretty, but plain. The twelve year old girl had her hair tightly braided and drawn away from her face. If one cared to look closely, she had dark eyes, that had an unusual twinkle to them. Lee Jordan saw it, he asked her out once a week. Always, Angelina denied his request, after all quidditch was her life.
She was one of the three Gryffindor chasers, ruled over by their fearless captain, Oliver Wood. She liked Oliver, but often criticized how hard he pushed the team. It was only game. However, she never told Oliver that, she might be replaced with the reserve chaser, Alicia Spinnet. And whether Alicia was her best friend, or not, she wasn't getting her spot on the team.
Angelina worked very hard on her skills, but had a slight problem riding her broom. She was a muggle born and before coming to Hogwarts had never ridden a broom. However, her throwing arm and innate sense of balance allowed her to offset her inexperience. She just couldn't get used to the steering, however Oliver must have seen something special in her to put her on the team.
Currently, the team was nervous about the second match of the season, against Slytherin. So far, both teams were undefeated, the winner of the match would most likely move into first place. Angelina was worried the Slytherins would use their dirty tactics and exploit her weakness. Luckily, Angelina was, by nature, a very outgoing young lady. She didn't allow herself to be intimidated by the Slytherins. Especially, by their new star chaser Montague.
Montague was a very talented flyer, he had a smile that made other girls melt. He had dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. His skill was unseen, he scored over a hundred points in Slytherin's first game against Hufflepuff. His speed and handling of the broomstick made him a deadly opponent.
"Johnson, save yourself the embarrassment, don't show up tomorrow," he said snidely as he brushed past her leaving Charms class the day before the match. He was arrogant, but Angelina was not scared of the fellow second year.
"We'll see whose embarrassed come tomorrow," she challenged back. Motague gave her one backward glance, but said nothing. His gaze seemed to pierce into her very soul, making her very uncomfortable.
Angelina saw the same look on his face the next day at the match, his eyes never seemed to leave her. She was so uneasy she missed a simple shot, much to Wood's annoyance.
"Johnson, get your head in the game," he called angrily to her. The words stung a little, she was trying her very best. Angelina was certain she saw the corners of Montague's mouth curl, she was too busy watching him to see the bludger headed straight for her.
"Angelina!" one of the Weasley's yelled, just in time for her to swerve. At that moment, her broom jerked and she fell off her broom.
Angelina was certain she was going to hit the ground, but instead two arms reached out and caught her. She looked up, expecting to see Fred or George, but instead she saw Montague's eyes.
"Montague?" she asked bewildered.
It seemed so impossible he had saved her. She gave him a small kiss on the cheek and muttered a hasty, "Thank you."
Ten Years Later
The war was over. It was no fairytale, Voldemort had defeated Harry Potter and the world had fallen mercy to him and his Death Eaters. The last folds of the rebellion and the Order of the Phoenix were crumbling. No muggle born witch or wizard was safe.
Angelina Johnson, who had become a very beautiful young woman, with eyes that had seen too much death for their twenty-two year had not lost their twinkle. Unfortunately, she was taken prisoner during a an excursion into Diagon Alley to find supplies.
She had been bound by her hands and her wand had been taken from her pocket. The masked men had taken her to the location of the Ministry of Magic complex, which had been converted into a palace for Voldemort and his followers.
Pushed and shoved, she was forced into a large room, resembling a courtroom. In the center sat Voldemort, around him ten Death Eaters sat on his left and right. Each had a disinterested look on their face.
"Johnson, Angelina. Muggle born, most likely part of the rebellion, one time professional quidditch player," a cold voice said. A flicker of disbelief crossed the face of the man three away from the center at the mention of her name.
David knew he could easily save his former quidditch rival, or he could watch her die. She had stolen the cup from him somehow, but surely that was in the past. Though part of him had never forgotten that kiss.
In fact, they had both been captains in her seventh year. He had felt bad for her. With her seeker and beaters being suspended, then having a terrible keeper. Yet, she had not given up, she had overcome those obstacles.
"Sentence?" the voice asked. There was no response from the council sitting around Voldemort.
Perhaps, that was why he liked this Gryffindor. She had the ability to overcome. Most Gryffindors were prone to stubbornness and a skewed sense of the real world. He admired her most for not begging, most people begged.
"Death by Cruciatus Curse," one of the younger Death Eaters said simply, as though he was commenting about the weather.
David weighed his options. This would be the second time saving her. He had never done such a selfless thing in his life, let alone for a Gryffindor. And now, he was considering doing it twice. He remembered the kiss she had given him at age twelve, it ad haunted him.
"Objections?" Voldemort questioned. David saw Angelina let a tear roll down her face, but made no noise. She was brave and foolish, no wonder she was a Gryffindor.
"I'll vouch for her," came a strong voice, causing Angelina to look up from the ground and stare at the man who had saved her.
She saw the same two blue eyes she had seen ten years ago staring down at her once more.
"David Montague?" she asked in disbelief. And once again she gently brushed her lips against his cheek and said, "Thank you."