Chapter 2

The next three days passed by slowly, excruciatingly, taunting Carlton with what was to come. By now, all of Hogwarts knew that he was going to be playing Seeker on Saturday. Not only was it nerve wracking, it was paralyzing the more and more he thought about it, so he deliberately distracted himself, throwing all of his nervous energy into his schoolwork.

Because he was so focused, his spellwork had improved greatly in just a few days. Even O'Hara had noticed and commented on it.

"Shit!" she said loudly as a wordless binding spell hit her and knocked her to the ground. He flicked his wand and the spell came undone and she grinned at him as she stood up, brushing off her robes. "Damn, Carlton. I didn't even see that one coming. Two days ago you were struggling with that one verbally, and now you just…well, you know!" She then smirked at him and said, "You really want to beat Shawn on Saturday, don't you?"

He turned away from her, annoyed at how easily she saw through him. He looked at the bookshelf and skimmed through the titles. They were in the Room of Requirement, their usual place for combat practice, but instead of feeling comforted by the anonymity, he felt a surge of anger. Maybe if Spencer could see what he was doing, he would actually be worried for Saturday, unlike the way he was now, strutting around the halls as imperiously as ever. It didn't help that half the girls at the school were in love with him, feeding into his vanity.

As it was, Lassiter was even more nervous than before. At practices, he'd only managed to catch the Snitch three out of ten times. Not exactly the best figure to be looking at before a game.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, tucking his wand up his sleeve.

Juliet let out a groan and quickly retorted, "Oh, c'mon, Carlton…this is ridiculous! You and I both know that you can beat Shawn, even if you had one arm tied behind your back." She approached him from behind and rested a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to turn. Brown eyes met blue. "Carlton…you have nothing to worry about. I mean, he may be mister popularity and be a pretty damn good flier, but you and I both know that you're not just good. You're better than good. You have a true gift. You can do this. You can beat him."

Slightly surprised at her and her support, considering her crush on the Ravenclaw, he gaped for a second, and then nodded.

"Al…alright. If you say so."

O'Hara laughed and tossed her hair over her shoulder as she bent down to pick up her bag from the floor. As she stood up, she threw him a broad smile and said, "Carlton, for once in your life, trust your instincts. I mean, I know you had a rough time this week with Quidditch practice, but you know that you're better than that. You'll do great."

He reluctantly sent her a smile and replied, "I guess we'll see."

Rolling her eyes, she walked to the door, knowing he was following, and they headed for dinner.

It was the morning of the game. Carlton woke up at six and was down at breakfast at six thirty, the only one in the Great Hall. He took the solitude and enjoyed it, stacking his plate full of bacon, sausage, and eggs, stocking up on his protein. He drank a large glass of orange juice…and then barely touched the food. He knew that playing on an empty stomach wasn't wise, but he found his appetite diminishing with every person that walked into the Hall for their own breakfasts, furtive glances being cast in his direction every so often and rattling his nerves.

Shit. He was going to blow it.

Tightening his jaw, he forced himself to eat, dutifully ignoring all of the looks. He then stood and walked to the Slytherin locker room, determination in his stride. The instant he stepped inside, Dirk Dobbs approached him and put a meaty hand on Carlton's shoulder.

"Good luck, Lassiter."

Carlton nodded at the sixth year who was taking his place as Chaser.

"You, too, Dobbs."

The older student smirked and replied, "I'm not the one who needs it," and then walked away from him to change, leaving Lassiter feeling more nervous than before. Quickly, not giving himself time to think about it, he changed into his uniform and then headed to the door to wait to emerge with the rest of the team.

Within minutes, they were all joined together on the narrow ramp that lead up over the field, and Vick turned to all of them and gave them a brief flash of a smile before saying, "As Slytherins, we learn to rely on ourselves. As a team, we learn to rely on each other." In unison, they said, "We bring individual strength to the whole, so that we do not fall if divided." She then said, "We protect and defend our team, but we do not risk others in doing so." Again, in unison, they replied, "Think of the whole, but remember the self."

Her grin turned mischievous.

"Now…let's go kick some Ravenclaw ass."

All of them grinning, almost maniacally, they sprinted up the ramp as they heard their team being called and flew out. Not one by one, like every other team, but as a group. They were the only ones who did, and they all loved the fact that it always bothered the other teams that they seemed more united than them, as Slytherins were notorious for their selfishness. It gave them an edge each and every time.

Lassiter swept upward and took his position above the pitch, feeling comfortable for the first time in days…and then Spencer appeared, looking as confident as ever.

"Hey, Lassi," he threw out to him, being friendly.

Carlton glared.

"You're going down, Spencer."

Spencer threw him a devil-may-care grin and settled further back on his broom, slouching, and nonchalantly replied, "Maybe I will. I don't know." He abruptly leaned forward, however, as they heard the first whistle, the warning whistle that they were about to start, and at the sound his personality shifted in an instant, his eyes darkening and his voice going low as he said, "…but then again…"

The second whistle blew.

The game had started.

In a flash, Spencer had pulled away and Lassiter followed easily, holding back his speed, tracking him, never letting him out of his sight. As they banked dangerously around the towers, frightening more than a few onlookers, Carlton had the vague inclination that he was being mocked by the Ravenclaw Seeker, who threw glances over his shoulder every so often, as though making sure that Lassiter was still following him. He thought about pulling away, but didn't, determined to stick it out.

He glanced at the score as they flew past it, and noted that Ravenclaw was down by only five points. He was going to have to go on the offensive and look for the Snitch himself and stop tailing Spencer.

Reluctantly, he pulled up and headed high to get a bird's eye view of the Quidditch pitch. Everyone looked like dots in the distance and, for a moment, he worried that he was too far away to catch any glimpses of the elusive golden orb…but then he saw a flash, down near Kitt's shoulder, the Ravenclaw Keeper.

Like a lightning bolt, he shot down, his hand reached out…and he just barely missed it, his fingers grasping air just as the Snitch shot out of his reach. He went after it, gaining speed effortlessly, and nearly caught up to it twenty yards outside the field, when, unexpectedly, Spencer shot up out of nowhere, a flash of blue and black as he nearly caught it, the round ball rolling off the edge of his fingertips. Angry at being denied, Lassiter shot forward and looped around the other Seeker, glaring at him.

"If you're holding back Spencer, I will kill you. I feel like I'm being toyed with, here…"

Spencer shot up on his broom, running a hand through his hair which still managed to look perfect despite all of his reckless flying, and then shot Lassiter a look, one eyebrow arched.

"Hold back? Moi? I'm offended, Lassi, that you would think me capable of such salacious subterfuge and deliberate deviance," he said, moving closer to him, his hand now perched imperiously on his hip. "I mean, what kind of person do you think I am?"

Lassiter gave him a dark grin.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Shawn smiled.

"No, probably not." He slowly pulled away and then said, "So…no holding back, huh? You want me to hit you with all I've got? I mean…think this through, Lassi. If I do, there's a ninety-two point six percent chance that Ravenclaw wins this match, making you look like a total ass…"

At seeing the smirk on Spencer's face, the Slytherin snarled.

"That means I've got a seven point four percent chance of making you look like the ass…that's more than enough of a percentage for me, Spencer."

Spencer's smirk darkened.

"Then it's on, Lassi."

He then shot past him so quickly, Lassiter was shocked, and it took him a moment to catch up. The Ravenclaw might have been on a lesser broom, but he used it to his advantage in saving energy, only wasting his true speed when he thought Lassiter was getting too close. They were locked in a fierce battle, Lassiter using all of his skills to keep Spencer from getting his all-too-quick hands on the Snitch.

He glanced down at the scoreboard…and he paled.

Slytherin was down by eighty points. Shit. He had to win this for them. Quickly, he pulled back from tailing Spencer and shot like an arrow towards the sky once more, taking a high and long look around the pitch, trying to see what the other Seeker was doing, certain that some other plan was in play to keep him from seeing something that Spencer had already seen…and then he saw it. The Snitch.

Down on the field, hovering inches from the ground, it was darting back and forth along a line of grass, practically imperceptible to anyone in the stands, let alone someone as high up as Lassiter, and that was when it hit him. Spencer's Firebolt was good, but it couldn't stop that quickly from full acceleration so close to the ground. But a Sky Breaker could, and that was why Spencer had been playing with him, keeping him distracted enough to work his way down in an unobvious fashion, to keep Lassiter from seeing what he was doing.

Too late. Lassiter saw it…and he was taking it.

Dropping like a hawk in a dive, he plunged towards the Quidditch field and he heard a collective gasp coming from the stands. He knew from the outside it probably looked like a suicide move, as his Sky Breaker was breaking two hundred miles per hour, easily, and he was aimed straight for the ground. No one in the stands could see the Snitch, making it look like the craziest stunt ever pulled in a Quidditch match.

Just as he was certain he might not be able to pull up, he did, the wind roaring in his ears as he rolled around his broom, hanging from the underside with one hand outstretched. He saw a blur of blue near his head, but ignored it and grabbed at the gold metal…and inwardly crowed as he felt his fingers grasp firmly around it, the wings crushed by his fierce grip.

He effortlessly rolled back, pulled himself back up and then slowed to an almost stop, just long enough to wave the Snitch in the commentator's direction.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT! LASSITER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH RIGHT OUT FROM UNDER SPENCER'S NOSE! SLYTHERIN WINS!" yelled Bedworth, the third year Hufflepuff announcer.

Lassiter grinned, and then looked over at Spencer who was hovering only a few feet away, and was pleased to see a look of total shock on the Ravenclaw's face…but then Spencer smiled at him and said enigmatically, "I knew you were good, Lassi. But I really had no idea. I mean…damn. That was some seriously awesome flying…"

Confused at the praise, he looked away and instead flew down to the pitch, where the Slytherin team had gathered to congratulate him, Vick's short nod of approval louder than any of the screams that were coming from the stands. He had done it. He had beaten Shawn Spencer at his own game.

However, as he saw Shawn head back to his own locker room he saw a few of the Ravenclaw teammates giving their own Seeker dirty looks, only one or two of them clapping a sympathizing hand on the sixth year's shoulder, and he felt a stir of guilt.

He didn't have the chance to think more on it, though, as he was ushered through to his own locker room, all of his teammates going on about his brilliant moves against the unbeatable Ravenclaw Seeker. He heard the words, and instead of relishing in them and enjoying every second of the well-deserved praise, he found he didn't feel as strongly about it as he had before the game. Ignoring the feeling, he excused himself to the shower and deliberately took a long time, waiting for everyone to leave.

As soon as he was alone, he changed into his Muggle clothes, jeans and an oversized black sweater, and headed towards the Great Hall for lunch.

O'Hara intercepted him in the hallway, her blonde pony-tail streaming behind her and her gray sneakers squeaking on the stone floor as she nearly bowled him over with a hug and then hooked her arm through his.

"I told you you'd do great, Carlton!" she enthused as they headed down the corridor. "I mean, I knew you were good, but hell! That catch? It was…it was more intense than the Quidditch World Cup! I mean, when I saw you drop, I was certain that there was no way that you would be able to pull up in time! You were just this blur, and when you swiped it from right under Shawn's nose…it was amazing, Carlton."

He couldn't help a small smile appear at her enthusiasm and he said, "It was really that good?"

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Yes, Carlton, it was really that good. You know," she added almost as an afterthought. "I always thought you were good, but when you actually have, you know, real competition, it brings out this side of you…"

Lassiter looked at her, slightly worried, and then tentatively asked, "What do you mean?"

O'Hara shrugged.

"I don't know. It's like…like, remember how much you hated Gus when we first started here? And then one day there was that schoolwide Gobstones tournament, and he ended up wiping the floor with every single player, and you said to me that you saw something in him that you hadn't seen before. That he had an ambition to be the best. And even though you didn't care for him or the game, you respected him anyway because of how he played, that it brought out his best qualities."

Carlton nodded.

"Well…it's kind of like that. I mean, I know you work hard for your grades and you resent Shawn for the fact that it seems like he puts in practically no effort and gets better grades than you…but when he puts a challenge in front of you, like Quidditch, he brings out the best side of your competitive nature…you know what I mean?"

Carlton shook his head, slightly confused, and she let out a frustrated sigh. Pulling her arm from his, she moved in front of him and walked backward so that she could face him as she talked.

"Like…your schoolwork brings out this bitter type of competitive energy with you, and it's a bit upsetting sometimes. But with Quidditch, Shawn seems to, well, be the challenge that you need. I mean, I've never actually seen you smile like that before! Never! And, well, Shawn seemed to be smiling with you, like he knew that you were going to beat him, and he was proud of you for it. Like…he was purposely pushing you towards your potential."

She shook her head and turned around just in time to walk through the doors to the Great Hall.

"Crazy, right?" she tossed over her shoulder, heading to their table.

Carlton just nodded, deliberately ignoring the flash of Spencer's smile in his mind's eye.

Yeah, crazy. Of course.


Part 2/?