Chapter 2: Of Introductions and Potions Essays.

As I climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, I thought my legs were going to give way. I thought longingly of my dormitory and my four-poster bed.

I did have a feeling of immense satisfaction though, like I always did after a particularly hard training session. I pretty much lived and breathed Quidditch, just like everyone one else on the Gryffindor team.

The team was like my family. Most of us have been on the team since third or fourth year.

First, there's Emily Lyden, the baby of the team, just a Fifth Year. She's a Chaser.

There's Dominique Weasley, our resident beauty queen. She plays Chaser with Emily. Dom's probably my best friend. She's the kind of girl you either love or you hate – she's rude, obnoxious, sarcastic and incredibly forward. As bloody hilarious as all my friends are, she is by far the most. Shameless, I swear to God.

Then there's Isabelle Davis, who plays Beater. She has about half the guys at Hogwarts falling at her feet.

She's probably the craziest out of all of us, and that's saying something. In our first week, she snuck into Hogesmeade and tricked the barman of the Hogs Head into giving her Firewhisky.

There's Alfie Collins, who's my best guy friend. He's Beater on the team with Izzy. I think he's a little bit in love with her, though he'd never admit it.

Then there's Luke Wood. I love that kid, he's bloody hilarious. He plays Keeper. He also happens to be Potter's best mate. I think he may have been clubbed over the head as a child.

And finally, there's me, Liv Mclair. I play Seeker. I've been on the team since third year when our last Seeker, Oliver Mathews, graduated.

Oh, and then there's Potter. But he doesn't count, seeing as I hate him.

I finally reached my dormitory and staggered over to my bed, knocking off the various items and collapsing in defeat.

Adele, the only girl in our year who didn't play Quidditch, looked up from her Charms essay, her dark eyes sympathetic. "You look tired, Liv."

Dom scoffed at this. "Like you got trampled by a stampede of rabid Hippogriffs, more like."

I raised my head slightly to glare at her. "Thanks, Dom. Good to know I can always count on you for compassion."

She just shrugged, returning her gaze to the magazine she was reading and mumbled, "It's true."

I collapsed back down onto my bed, my face pressed into the pillows. "I don't think I've ever been this tired in my life."

Isabelle glanced over the top of her book at me. "Exactly how many suicides did he make you do?"

"Bloody two hundred or something..."

"What?"

"That bitch!"

"All because you were a little bit late to practice?"

I nodded into my pillow, too tired to let myself get worked up over it. I'd already pitched a fit when he ordered me to do it in the first place. Now I was just glad to be done with them to be honest.

Isabelle flipped open the lid of her trunk and dug out a chocolate frog – one of the 200+ stash she keeps in there.

Dom rolled her eyes. "Honestly Iz, you're such a porker. If you didn't play Quidditch, you'd weigh three tons."

"Well it's a good thing I play Quidditch then, isn't it?" said Isabelle, grinning.

"It's seven o'clock, should we go down?" asked Adele, checking her watch.

While the others made noises of agreement, I groaned torturously at the prospect of moving, weighing the importance of hunger versus sleep. My muscles were practically numb with exhaustion, though the slightest movement would send them screaming in pain. "Can I just meet you guys down there?"

They just simply shrugged in response and ambled out the door, mentioning something about saving a seat. I buried my head deep into my pillow and sighed into the silence, feeling the shackles of sleep pulling down on my eyelids.

"We have to wake her up"

"You do it, I did it last time."

"Oi, Troll!"

I jolted awake, just having received the very unpleasant sensation of being blasted in the face by a jet of freezing water.

I looked at Dom, who was standing at the foot of my bed grinning, her wand outstretched, and narrowed my eyes with intense fury.

"Rise and shine, darling. We've got practice" she said, throwing her wand back onto her pillow.

I groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets over my head, trying to block out the noise.

"Liv, I swear to Merlin, if you're not up in three seconds I will make you get up" said Isabelle.

"Touch me and you die, Davis" I growled.

"Enjoy my funeral then" she said sarcastically.

The next thing I knew, the blankets were yanked off me, and I was thrown, very ungracefully, to the floor.

I glared daggers up at the girl standing before me. She just laughed and handed me my practice kit. I took it grudgingly and picked myself up off the ground.

Two hours of complete and utter torture later, the team and I traipsed into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Potter was walking merrily behind us whistling. Whistling.

Prick.

I threw myself into a seat beside an alarmed looking first year and shooed him further down the bench to make room for my friends.

I yawned hugely and reached for the coffee, pouring myself a large mug. Dom looked distastefully at my choice of beverage and reached for the green tea.

After stuffing ourselves full (Isabelle had piled her plate with three times the amount Luke had, which is really saying something), we made our way back up to our dormitory and began our usual argument over who got the first shower.

"Get out of the way, you bints! I get first shower!"

"Dom, you had first shower last time"

"But you three are in the bathroom for hours. It only takes me ten minutes"

"Well some of us aren't Veela, and we need time to get ready in the morning"

"I honestly didn't think you cared; with that horrific thing you call a face. But now that you mention it, I commend you for going out in public looking so disfigured all the time. It must be so hard"

Isabelle shot Dom the finger while Adele and I shook out heads at our friends antics.

I was sleeping soundly in an armchair in the Gryffindor common room, having a lovely dream which may or may not have involved drowning Potter in my cauldron, when I was rudely disturbed by someone flicking me.

"Oi! Liv!"

"Alfred, could you please fuck off?" I asked, not opening my eyes.

Alfie chuckled. "Al wants us all in the Charms classroom. Quidditch meeting"

"Tell Potter he can stuff it" I said, still not moving.

Alfie recognised defeat and left the common room.

I tried to relax into sleep again but after ten minutes, my efforts remained futile. I sighed in frustration and sat up, deciding to get started on my Potions essay.

An hour later, I was sitting at a table hunched over my potions book. Even though the common room was relatively quiet, I was not having much luck concentrating. Potions was not exactly my forte.

That is actually a bit of an understatement. I was abysmal at Potions. How I managed to pass my O.W.L is completely beyond me. Just last week I managed to make my cauldron explode, showering the class with the acidic sludge that was my potion. I put six people in the Hospital Wing. Not the best start to Seventh Year.

I resignedly picked up my quill and scratched out another paragraph that was certain to get me no higher than a 'P'. Before I could finish, however, my parchment was yanked away from me.

I looked up, ready to curse the living shit out of the perpetrator, when I find myself face to face with Potter.

"What the bloody fuck do you think you are doing?" I demanded angrily, reaching for my essay.

Potter just smirked and twitched it away. "You didn't show up to the Quidditch meeting"

"I am aware of that" I responded.

"So, naturally, I came to the conclusion that you were either dead or in a state of total paraplegia"

I stared at him in disbelief before I shook my head. "Just give me my essay back Potter"

He shook his head. "Not before I hear a legitimate reason for you cutting a team meeting."

I rolled my eyes and made to grab for my essay again, but he held it out of my reach.

Damn him and his stupid tallness.

"I'm waiting, Mclair."

"Potter" I said through clenched teeth. "Give. It. Back."

He shook his head, still wearing that infuriatingly obnoxious smirk.

I lunged at him.

He was caught off guard for about three seconds until his Quidditch reflexes kicked in.

My lunge had sent us both crashing to the floor, but he had me pinned in seconds. I slammed my hands into his chest, trying to shove him off me, but I may as well be hitting a wall for all the difference it made.

Merlin, he's strong I thought to myself. His arm muscles rippled as he held my arms to keep me from thrashing.

With an almighty shove I pushed him off me, only to fall right back down on top of him, my chest crashing down against his, my long, blonde waves falling across his face.

"Bloody – get off" He cried, sputtering with the attempt to spit of my hair.

At least something was chocking him.

"Not until you give me my fucking –"

"I'm not giving it back!"

"Then I'm not getting off!"

"– can't breath; bloody hair"

I raised my head to glare at him, but I faltered slightly when my nose brushed against his due to our unexpected proximity.

Our wrestling came to a halt as we both realised our position. His had was on my thigh, my body straddling him, our faces millimetres away from each other.

His green eyes burned into mine and I felt my anger dissipate. It was filled with an entirely new feeling, though it was about a million times stronger. It felt like something that could only be described as…lust.

Lust! I thought. For Potter? No way. Granted, the kid might have amazing muscles and gorgeous eyes and hair that just makes me want to- wait WHAT! Did I just think those things about Albus Potter? I must be going mad. Or, you know, more mad than usual.

Not three seconds had passed and neither of us moved. Breathing heavily from our forgotten anger and having close to no idea of what to do.

However, before either of us could so much as break the silence, a cursed blessing in the form of Dominique Weasley did it for us.

"Well, this is cosy."

The two of us sprang apart almost immediately, struggling to disentangle ourselves from one another as Dom stood in the portrait hole, arms crossed, and leaning against the wall with a wry smirk.

"It's definitely not what it looks like," I muttered darkly, reverting back to my previous anger as I glared at him accusingly, remembering the fact the he still had my essay. "Give it, Potter."

"Really? Because it looked like you two were having a bit of a moment – didn't mean to interrupt." Dom smirked.

Potter tossed my essay at me and I caught it, setting it down on the table. "You didn't interrupt anything" he said, but his voice was oddly constricted. And without even a backwards glance, he stalked off up to the Boys' Dormitory.

My gaze flicked over to Dom, who was still smirking wickedly. "So…have fun today?"

My face flattened into a scowl. "No" I growled.

Dom merely raised an eyebrow. "Had me fooled…"

A/N: Sorry this chapter took me a while to get out. I have exams coming up, so I've been studying like mad and my old laptop broke, so I couldn't write for two whole weeks! The next chapter could take a while, because I have a week long hiking camp and then exams straight after, but I am the worlds greatest procrastinator when it comes to studying, so you never know...

Love, Ellie.