The crowd is alive with cheers as we enter the Pitch to the sound of the commentators booming voice, announcing us all by name and position, and I soak it up – letting the vibrations of sound run through every inch of my body.

This is undoubtedly one of the best things about Quidditch. The excitement, the competition and the raw feeling of a hundred pairs of eyes watching only us.

It's too early in the season for scouts – though they would come later in the year, bringing the nerves that sprang forth with them.

With my bat secured in one hand I squint through the weak sunlight at the stands which are a motley assortment of scarlet red and emerald green, and take my broom from the rack.

"AND HERE COMES THE SYLTHERIN TEAM," The commentator, Paloma Entwhistle – a fifth year Ravenclaw and younger sister of James' ex-girlfriend Nora – yells , her voice projected across the Pitch by her wand. This would be her first year commentating, and Professor Longbottom sits beside her in the stands, dutifully providing her with any backup she may need.

I survey the other team as they approach, locking eyes with Scorpius who winks at me warmly – having finally forgiven me for the episode in Potions class – and I grin back at him before noticing James watching me, tight lipped, so I settle for a mock scowl instead.

My scowl turns real, however, when I see Alden Pike smirking at me from behind Scorpius. Lanky, with broad shoulders and cropped, brown hair, Pike makes up one half of the Slytherin teams Beaters. Most of the Slytherins' had thought it was a joke when Roxy and I had become Beaters in our third year, and had absolutely no qualms in making that clear. After winning the Cup last year, they started taking us a bit more seriously.

Pike, however, did not.

Sure, we don't have the usual strength that a typical Beater would have, even I can admit that. But what we do have is speed, tactics and a generous amount of bad temper.

And that works for us.

Professor Quinlan stands in the middle of the large field, his fair hair blowing in the rough wind and his broom in hand. "I want a fair game today," He says as both teams reach him, his voice already sounds tight – as if he knows our two Houses will be at each other's throats once we're in the air.

Well, I can't blame him for the thought really.

"From all of you. You know the rules, and the consequences that come from breaking them."

He looks at each of us as he speaks – though I swear his narrowed eyes linger on Barnabus Brucklehurst for a little longer than necessary.

James and Scorpius head to the centre of the Pitch and shake hands roughly – each one looking as unhappy as a Demiguise with its toes in a trap, and I can't help but snigger quietly at the sight.

"GRYFFINDOR CAPTAIN JAMES POTTER," Paloma coughs and I swear I hear her say 'tosser' in between fits. "AND SLYTHERIN CAPTAIN SCORPIUS MALFOY SHAKE HANDS AND PREPARE FOR THE MATCH."

"Mount your brooms." Quinlan instructs, and with a loud blast of his whistle we're all shooting up into the air – the rush of a cool breeze soaring over my skin as I blast upwards, Roxanne at my side, halting only long enough to find the nearest Bludger.

"Hey Scamander!" Pike shouts at me as we hover far enough from Quinlan to hear, and distracts me from my search. "Ten Galleons says we get the first hit."

I wrinkle my nose at him, taking in the crooked smile and the glint of challenge in his eyes, and I consider the prospect.

"You're on, Pike." I agree after a moment – shooting Roxy a knowing look to which she confirms with a nod.

I spot a blur of iron fury, and we take off across the Pitch.

Slytherin have possession of the Quaffle. As we soar overhead, Ed Higgs tosses to Spencer Graves, who dodges Louis with a swift dive and throws to Barney Brucklehurst further up field. Roxy reaches the Bludger first and her bat comes down upon it, hard, sending it soaring towards Brucklehurst. He swerves in time to avoid the hit, but drops the Quaffle.

James glides past and catches the plummeting ball, and Roxy and I whoop loudly and hi-five.

"AND TOSSER – I MEAN POTTER, SORRY PROFESSOR – TAKES POSESSION OF THE QUAFFLE."

There was no missing it that time. I let out an amused breath at Paloma's commentary and raise an eyebrow at Roxanne.

Clearly someone has unresolved issues.

James races across the Pitch, Higgs hot on his trail, and I marvel at his speed. Pike sends a Bludger his way, which misses by a good distance, and I catch his eye – poking my tongue out childishly and making a face.

No way can I let him win that bet.

I'd never hear the end of it.

"AND GRAVES IS BLOCKING POTTERS PATH – THAT'S THE LEAST HE DESERVES REALLY. I WOULD HAVE KNOCKED HIM OFF HIS BROOM IF I WAS – I MEAN, POTTER FEINTS TO THE RIGHT AND DODGES GRAVES, HEADING TOWARDS THE GOAL!"

I snort loudly – searching for a Bludger to keep Graves at bay. Spencer Graves is by far the best Chaser the Slytherins have, though he's still no match for James.

I mark out Graves location, coming down upon the next Bludger I see – but it's moving much too fast. I swing, only just nipping the side of it and it hurtles towards Graves, fast enough to slow him but not quite accurate enough to make a hit.

I curse loudly under my breath.

James sweeps effortlessly past Brucklehurst and shoots, though the shot is intercepted by Killian Clery, who tosses the Quaffle over to Higgs. He takes off towards the Slytherin goals and I see Roxanne line up a Bludger, though she quickly realises Higgs is gaining too much distance to hit. Instead, Roxy bats the Bludger towards me and all at once Higgs swoops low, avoiding me. I know I can still get him, but it's going to have to be a vertical swing – a move that's tricky for any Beater.

I pull my broom up into a rough backflip and come down upon the Bludger andSMACK – it hurtles downwards, faster and faster until it hits Higgs right between the shoulder blades and he falters, losing hold of the Quaffle.

I raise my bat, victorious, and hear Pike throwing a tantrum somewhere nearby.

Those Galleons belong to me now, buddy.

Oh, and Roxy too, I suppose.

James shoots past and takes the red ball right into his arms – increasing speed towards the end of the Pitch, luring Clery towards the right goal. Clery speeds up too quickly and leaves the other hoops wide open, and James hurls the Quaffle to Pippa who scores in the left hoop with ease.

"AND GRYFFINDOR CHASER, PIPPA BELL, SCORES! SHE MAY LOOK LIKE AS CUTE AS A BUTTON, BUT ON THE PITCH THAT GIRL IS FIERCE. GRYFFINDOR LEAD 10-NIL."

Gryffindor take possession. I spot Fergus Malachy above me, grinning as he sends a Bludger hurtling towards James, who so far hasn't noticed. All at once I'm diving, hot on the trail of the both of them. I intercept the Bludger with only seconds to spare, almost barrelling into James myself, and send it straight back at Malachy – whose almond eyes widen as he yelps loudly.

He drops into a roll, narrowly avoiding the Bludger and sneers at me. I send him a venomous smirk in return.

Dodgy prat.

James is already at the goal posts when I turn my attention back to the game – he smoothly dodges Clery and scores through the middle hoop.

"POSSER… TOPPER… I MEAN POTTER SCORES. GRYFFINDOR LEAD 20-NIL."

"Ly, what would you say if I asked you kindly to not injure my players!" Scorpius yells out as he barrels past me and I shout after him.

"In your dreams, Malfoy!"

I mark out Roxanne's location before scanning the Pitch for the opposing Beaters. Brucklehurst has possession of the Quaffle. He dodges Louis' attempt to slow him down. I swing a Bludger towards him, which misses by mere inches – Roxy dives to catch the rebound, and with a swing of her bat the Bludger hurtles back towards Brucklehurst, who swerves only a second too late.

The Bludger hits the end of his broom with a crack and he loses momentum for a moment. When he starts up again, Louis is in front of him and I take the opportunity to send a second Bludger his way. Brucklehurst swerves, startled, and loses the Quaffle. Louis swoops below and picks it up and I hear Pike swearing loudly from across the Pitch.

Immediately I trail Louis, keeping an eye out for Malachy. I hear a whoosh and catch a hurtling Bludger just in time, vaguely wondering if it was meant for me or Louis, and pelt it towards Higgs, who's up ahead, disrupting his defensive manoeuvres.

I pull up before Louis swerves forward and aims for the hoop – though shriek in frustration as Clery blocks the goal and the Quaffle goes to Higgs instead.

I hear a loud whoop and eye Pike, who's hovering not far off to my left. He's grinning at me – his eyes glinting with a hidden malice. I ignore him and spot a Bludger hurtling below and take off towards it, but not before my path is blocked by Pike dropping down in front of me abruptly, and I pull back with a loud yelp.

"What's the hurry, Scamander?" Pike drawls over the roar of the wind – his dark eyes, almost beady, boring into me. "Can't your precious Captain last five seconds without you guarding his back?"

"Move it, Pike!" I spit at him, attempting to swerve around, but he continues to block me.

"Where do you think you're going? Stay here with me."

I don't know if he's distracting me or simply trying to get a rise out of me, but every second I spend away from the games grates on my nerves. I drop down, and he follows, and I grit my teeth before feinting to the right and swooping to my left.

It's only a few seconds, however, before he's blocking me again – cackling as he says. "Relax, love. Your boyfriend can wait another minute or three."

"What are you on about?" I hiss at him, my knuckles turning white where they're gripped tightly around the handle of my broom. I inch my gaze around him to see Malachy swing a Bludger towards James, and hit him square in the shoulder. A breath escapes in a hiss between my teeth and I watch as Roxy only barely manages to intercept the second ball hurtling towards him.

So, it is distraction then.

An attempt to take out our best player so they have even a sliver of a chance at winning the match.

I feel a slight sense of panic begin to rise in the pit of my stomach, and grit my teeth against it. I need to get back into the game. I feel utterly helpless – cornered.

Pike veers forwards and blocks my line of sight. "Thought you and Potter were having some kind of lovers quarrel last weekend? Pretty nasty mark you left on his face, eh?"

"Get the hell out of my way, Pike, before I kick you off your fucking broom."

"Huh? Big talk for such a little girl."

And then I snap.

I speed into Pike – smacking my shoulder into him roughly – though he barely budges, and the action serves only to aggravate him.

He sneers, revealing his teeth, and kicks me in the side with his leather bound boot, hard. The wind is knocked from me and I double over my broom in pain, wheezing, and faintly hearing the heated voice of Professor Quinlan from somewhere below us.

"PIKE!"

I suck in a deep lungful of air, and then heave my bat at Pikes head. It hits him, hard, and he cries out. And then with a bounce it plummets towards the Pitch below.

"SCAMANDER!"

Pike charges at me, bat drawn, and I'm about to duck before Professor Quinlan flies up between us with a whoosh of air and a fierce glare.

"FOUL! Both of you! Hit the benches for fifteen minutes, you're out!"

I grit my teeth against the frustrated scream that's building. I don't dare look at James, knowing that if I hadn't thrown my bat at Pike we would have gotten a free throw at the goal.

I soar down to the Pitch – feeling the unsteadiness in my feet for only a moment or two as I pick up my fallen bat and trudge towards the bench, falling down onto it ungraciously. Pike is kicking at his bench, swearing and sending me death glares. I ignore him and follow the match hungrily.

Slytherin score two goals in a row, and I scream up at Lysander from the ground, though I'm sure he can't hear a word I'm saying over the noise of the crowd. I spy Albus hovering high above the other players.

Still no sign of the Snitch then?

The minutes drag on, but finally Quinlan lets the pair of us back into the game, following another stiff warning. I hop onto my broom impatiently and streak into the air – hearing Palomas clear voice carrying above the wind.

"POTTER PULLS OFF A PARTICULARLY GOOD PORSKOFF PLOY, IF I HAVE TO SAY IT, AND DROPS THE QUAFFLE TO WEASLEY, WHO DODGES HIGGS – DODGES A BLUDGER FROM MALACHY – SAVED FROM A SECOND BLUDGER BY THE OTHER WEASLEY – PASSES THE QUAFFLE ON TO BELL WHO SHOOTS… AND SCORES! GRYFFINDOR LEAD 40-20."

I assess the Pitch, though barely have a plan formed before I'm stopped in my tracks and I stiffen.

"MALFOY DIVES! HAS HE CAUGHT SIGHT OF THE SNITCH? WHERE ON EARTH IS ALBUS POTTER? THERE HE IS! HE'S DIVING! THE TWO SEEKERS ARE HOT ON THE TAIL OF THE GOLDEN SNITCH. OH WAIT – MALFOYS PULLING UP – HE'S LAUGHING – LOOKS LIKE A WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT, AND POTTER HAS FALLEN FOR IT. SHAME ON HIM."

James swears loudly at Albus who's on the ground, mounting his broom again before he kicks off. But Scorpius streaks below me in a blur of emerald green, and this time I know it's not a feint.

I yell at Albus to hurry his arse up, and it doesn't take long before he's hurtling after Scorpius and the elusive Golden Snitch.

Almost everyone has stopped, watching the two Seekers in their race for the Snitch. But I know that thanks to Scorpius' dirty tricks, he's in the lead. I see James almost tearing out his hair nearby and I know that he's thinking the same thing.

The Slytherins take advantage of the distraction and score another goal, and my fists clench tight.

I have to do something – we need to win this game.

This is my element. This is what I'm made for.

I have to act,fast.

I signal Roxy, who's at my side in an instant and I shriek at her. "DOUBLE BLUDGER!MALFOY!"

She nods in silent understanding and we separate, searching for both Bludgers and Seekers.

The Seekers have disappeared into the thick of the fog after the Snitch, and I pray to Merlin that they reappear soon, or my plan will be for nothing.

I find my Bludger easily, and hit it in the general direction that I want it to go, keeping an eye out for Roxanne. She's up much higher, and I'm instantly overcome with the feeling that this may not work at all – that we're too far apart.

But I have no time to deliberate.

The cheer of the crowd alerts me to Scorpius and Albus clearing the fog, dropping down after the glint of the Golden Snitch, faster and faster until they even out and streak across the Pitch.

In an instant Roxy sends her Bludger towards Scorpius, and I wait a few seconds, racing the last few metres – my legs gripping my broom desperately before I use both arms to send the Bludger up. I notice at once that the timings off, but it has the desired effect – Scorpius swoops up to avoid Roxy's Bludger, only to have mine hit him two seconds later. He spins, and Albus takes the lead for the Snitch

I let out a breath of relief.

The rest is on him.

Albus dives, inching closer and closer to the Snitch. One glove-cladded hand reaches out, leaving the other to desperately grip his broom for balance as he tumbles further forward.

And it isn't long before the crowd is erupting in a deafening roar and Paloma is shrieking across the Pitch. "ALBUS POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH. 150 POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR. GRYFFINDOR WIN 190-30!"

*

The first thing I see as I touch down on the ground is James, and the utter relief engraved in his broad smile. He steps forward and scoops me up into a tight hug before I've even had the chance to take the victory in, and I laugh breathlessly, my broom falling to the grass as I'm crushed against him.

And then another pair of arms are around us – and another, and another, until the entire team is squashed together in a group hug and I'm feeling so dizzily elated that I begin to see spots.

Oh wait, that's just from lack of air.

We break apart and Albus throws an arm around my shoulder, grinning down at me.

"Thanks for the help up there, Ly." He says, and I punch him in the arm affectionately before he swoops off and envelopes Roxanne in a crushing squeeze.

My eyes wander – scanning the Slytherin Team, who are all looking as down in the dumps as one another.

And then a thought hits me.

"Scorpius!" I call out across the grass, and he turns to me – mouth set in a tight line. I jog over to him, leaving my team behind me to celebrate.

"Hey, did you tell Pike to distract me?" I question him breathlessly, and his eyebrows furrow, "To say all that about James?"

Scorpius looks dumfounded and for a second a pang of guilt hits me.

Maybe I'm wrong.

"No, Ly – why the hell would I do that? We're friends, aren't we? Although after that play you pulled off at the end I'm not sure," He spits, and before I can answer someone puts their hand on my arm gently, and Scorpius skulks off with his team.

It always takes him a day or two to come right after a loss – not that my accusations have done anything to help that.

But now that he's Captain, I just don't know how far he would go to secure a win.

"Hey, are you okay?" James asks, turning me to face him, his forehead set in a worried frown. He releases his grip on my arm, and I push a few loose strands of blonde hair off my face and mumble to the ground.

"Just peachy," I answer bitterly, though James just takes me by the chin and tilts it up so I'm staring into those warm, hazel eyes. He doesn't look worried anymore. In fact, he's kind of smiling.

"My parents are here. Come and see them."

He takes my hand in his, and I barely have time to register the action before he's leading me over to the spectators stand. We find the Potters easily – Ginny's bright red hair standing out amongst the crowd.

I immediately throw myself into Ginny's outstretched arms, smelling her familiar homely scent, and she laughs and says into my hair.

"Lyra, you were amazing out there! You and Roxanne are a match made in heaven."

She takes my hands in hers and I beam at her. Her smile reminds me of how much I always miss my own parents when they're away – though I know they would have loved to be here if they could.

"Tell me about it." I answer with a grin, catching Roxy by the elbow and pulling her into me with a tight squeeze. She tries to brush me off, but fails, so settles instead for succumbing to my affections, and I poke her in the cheek and grin at her.

"Bloody good game, girls," Harry says with a hug before saying. "Too bad about the foul, Lyra, but you could see from here that that Pike bloke was provoking it. By the way this is Orson Shuttleworth, he's covering the game for the Quidditch Quarterly."

Orson is a rounded, middle aged man with a wispy, black moustache. He's wearing a sweater vest and a brown trilby hat, and holds a notepad in one hand.

"Lovely to meet you Miss Scamander," Orson says with a firm handshake and I smile in greeting. "Can I just say that Bludger Backbeat you performed was superb. Excellent tactics – I'm sure you've learnt a lot from your new Captain, eh?"

"Natural talent, Orson," Ginny interjects smoothly, pinching at James' cheek playfully when he tries to argue against her.

Roxanne and I leave the Potters with Orson – James stuck answering multiple questions from the portly man – and soon find her Dad, George, talking to Professor Longbottom nearby.

"There's my girl!" He exclaims as he spots Roxanne and lifts her off her feet in a crushing hug, before giving me a much more welcoming squeeze. Roxy, who doesn't look impressed with her Dad's antics in the slightest, tuts at him and attempts to smooth down his tousled, ginger hair as he chatters about the game.

"So like your, Mum – always fussing about," George says warmly, and Roxy clicks her tongue and asks.

"Where is Mum, anyway?"

"She's at work, I'm afraid. But at least your favourite parent is here, hmm?"

"Sure Dad," Roxy says with an eye roll, and George ruffles her hair affectionately before pulling a couple of small boxes out of a leather satchel he's been carrying.

"These are for my favourite Beaters. Don't share them with the others." He whispers, handing us each a box that clearly says 'Sugarplums' on the top.

And then he walks over to Albus and Louis and says exactly the same thing.

"I'm a Seeker," I hear Albus saying, confused, and Roxy and I grin at each other.

We soon say our goodbyes to everyone, and after showering and changing, we all head back to Gryffindor Tower together, chattering happily about the game. The team is ecstatic, to say the least, and the feeling is contagious. I'm soon smiling so broadly that I expect my cheeks will be hurting for a week.

I can already hear music playing loudly as we approach the portrait hole, and we enter the common room to an applause of cheers.

In an instant, Wade is at my side, offering me a bottle of Butterbeer which I take gratefully before being bombarded with a million questions, compliments and congratulations from my remaining House mates.

I only have to endure the attention for a few minutes, thankfully, before James rescues me – ushering me with his hand on the small of my back over to a quieter corner of the room. He leans against the stone wall – pushing the sleeves of his black sweater up over his elbows before folding his arms across his chest – and peers down at me.

"Congratulations Captain, "I say sweetly in an attempt to distract him from scolding me about my mid-air confrontation with Pike, as I'm sure he's about to do.

"I think we both know I'm not the one who secured that win." He says softly instead, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

I can feel my cheeks flushing, and look away quickly. James puts a hand on my arm, and I can't help but look at him. My breath hitches in my throat as I notice the way the neck of his sweater comes down in a V, revealing his tanned chest underneath.

"How's your shoulder?" I ask to break the tension, and he shrugs.

"Bruised, but it'll be okay."

"Oh, good…"

"So – what happened with Pike in the air?"

Ah, there it is.

I shake my head, paying particular attention to the ground.

I don't want to talk about it, really – especially not with James. Because I know what he'll say. He'd laugh and say that Pike is an arsehole, that he's delusional and has no idea what he's on about. Because there's no way that what he said would ever be true.

That there was no way that James and I could ever be–

"He was just being an arse, as usual. Nothing to worry about," Is what I say – still staring at the carpet under his feet. Still looking anywhere,anywhere, to avoid meeting those keen eyes.

And then his hand is on the side of my face, and it moves to cup my chin gently and I'm forced to meet his gaze. He bites his lip softly and something pounds a steady rhythm inside of me. And when he speaks, his voice is a mere breath.

"You're an amazing Beater, you know that?"

My eyes widen.

"Wow. There's a sentence I never expected to come from your mouth."

He grins, and taps me under the chin playfully. "Don't get used to it, Scamander."

Then he saunters off to talk with Lysander, and I watch him – biting my lip and taking a long sip from my bottle to keep myself from grinning like an idiot.

"You guys seriously were awesome out there!" I hear Pippas voice drift over as her and Roxy join me, and she speaks with bright eyes. "Honestly, it makes me kind of jealous that you have your own little duo on the Pitch."

She pouts, and I laugh before throwing an arm around her slim shoulders and squeezing her against me.

"Come off it Bell – you know everyone was really watching you."

"Yeah. How many goals did you score again?" Roxy adds, and Pippa's lips quirk upwards.

"Okay, okay. I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"Super," I confirm, clinking my bottle against hers.

The three of us find Louis and Albus, and we all have stories to tell about the game. I feel elated. I'm having the best time – laughing and drinking – until I glance around the room and my smile falters. James stands near the staircase with Lydia, their heads bowed together as they talk quietly. Lydia has her hand on his arm, tracing small circles with her delicate fingertips, and as she throws her head back and laughs, her dark hair spilling down her back, he chuckles throatily as his eyes scan her face.

My stomach plummets and I tear my eyes away from them, taking a long sip from the bottle of Firewhiskey that Louis has just handed me. The liquid burns my throat, numbing me, and I welcome the distraction.

"Ly, what's wrong?" Pippa asks, stopping as she notices my fallen expression. Her mousy hair, tied in a ponytail, falls over her shoulder as she frowns at me.

I force a smile and stutter, "Nothing," though she doesn't seem entirely convinced.

And then I remember what Bash had told me the other day.

He only likes what he can get from them.

Really?

He only likes what he can get from them?

That only serves to make me feel even worse if possible.

Hang on… why do I even care?

I take another gulp from the bottle and pass it on to Pippa before glancing around the room again. Albus is telling his story of catching the Snitch for the fiftieth time, and I block it out until it's only background noise.

My eyes fall upon Bash, who is talking with Wade near the chess table. I've been catching his eye all night, though I had the feeling that he was subtly trying to give me space to celebrate my victory with the team.

Godric, could he be any more perfect?

His silver eyes meet mine again, and something warm spreads through me – although that could just be the Firewhiskey.

And before I know it I'm stalking over towards him, and he reaches an arm out for me. Wade makes some sort of comment about finding Louis, but I'm not listening. I'm much too preoccupied with Bash's arm pulling me against him before he twirls a strand of my blonde hair around his finger.

"I think congratulations are in order," He says, his voice soft – and I feel for a few seconds like we're in our own little world.

When I speak, my voice comes out breathless. "I've had enough of those for one day."

He sets his drink down on the chess table, and then both arms slide around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. His warmth runs through me and I know already that my face is flushed – but my heart pounds in my chest so forcefully that I don't care.

He leans forward and runs his thumb over my bottom lip and my breathe escapes in a shaky sigh as he says in a whisper. "So, I've laid everything on the table – I've told you how I feel."

My breath hitches as it leaves my mouth and his lips curve upwards at the sight. He smells amazing, like he always does, and I find myself leaning towards him further. And still he's drawing me closer, tighter into him.

"Now I wonder if you feel the same."

I let my arms snake over the white, long-sleeve t-shirt covering his arms and up his toned shoulders until they rest around his neck and I bite my lip gently before answering in a trembling breath.

"Can't you tell?"

And then without so much as a warning, Bash is kissing me, and I'm letting him – Oh Merlin, am I letting him – and his arms are pulling me flush against him, and my hands tangle through his dark hair and his tongue runs over my bottom lip in a way that makes me sigh into his mouth softly.

The taste of him sets my skin on fire.

And I don't care who sees.

Because the feeling is consuming.

It's only a few seconds before I stop – before we get all too carried away – and I pull away to find him grinning down at me, his arms still holding me against him and his forehead resting against mine, and I swear the room has hushed.

And then a growl sweeps through the silence and I know – I know – that an onslaught of rage is about to hit me.

"What the fuck is going on?" The unmistakable voice of my brother washes over me and in an instant Bash ushers me behind him and stands in front of Lysander, taking the full brunt of his anger.

I've never seen Lysander look so angry in his life. Not even when Lorcan kissed his 'girlfriend' when they were eight years old and Lysander swore he would push his twin off a cliff.

His sapphire eyes narrow on me angrily and he makes an attempt to reach around Bash for me, but Bash pushes against Lysanders chest, hard, and he stumbles back a pace.

"Lys, if you have a problem with this you come to me. Don't take it out on Lyra." Bash orders from where he stands in front of me, and I inhale sharply.

Lysander looks stunned for a moment, and then he growls and launches himself at Bash. I jump out of the way only a second before Lysander throws Bash against the chess table and hits him in the side of the face with a solid punch.

Bash lets out a groan of pain before he takes Lysander by the front of his shirt and throws him to the ground where he pummels into him – again and again – while Lysander locks his forearms above himself to ward off the attacks.

It isn't long before Lysander manages to kick Bash off of him, and I grab my brother by the arm and scream at him.

"LYSANDER IF YOU TOUCH HIM AGAIN I SWEAR TO GODRIC I'LL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE VIDEO GAME COLLECTION!"

He ignores me and breaks from my grip easily, and it's only when James steps in and restrains him that he stops – his breath heavy and his fists clenched tightly at his sides, as if he would jump back into the fight in a heartbeat.

Immediately I'm at Bash's side, absolutely livid as I inspect the growing bruise on the side of his face and the cut under his eye.

"I'm okay," He says, squeezing my hand in reassurance, and I turn on Lysander in fury.

"ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!" I shriek at him, advancing on him over the length of the common room where James has him pinned against the wall in an attempt to calm him. The common room is deathly quiet, and my furious voice echoes through the entire room.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH KNOX, HUH? WITH ONE OF MYFRIENDS!" Lysander roars at me – his split lip leaking blood down his chin – and James makes every effort to shut him up.

"DO YOU HEAR ME COMPLAINING ABOUT THAT DIMWIT YOU'VE BEEN SNOGGING?" I make a brief hand gesture towards Marissa Darling, who's standing with her daft friends and the rest of the group, looking nothing short of terrified. "STAY OUT OF IT!"

Lysander takes a breath to retaliate but James grabs him by the arm and says. "Just leave it, Lys."

And then James shoots me a look which I swear is worse than anything I've ever seen from him before.

He opens his mouth to say something, but obviously thinks better of it when he shakes his head and walks off.

I turn away and head back to Bash, who's letting Pippa heal the cut on his cheek with her wand. When she's done he says, "Let's get out of here," and links his fingers through mine, guiding me through the crowded common room.

I ignore the dozens of pairs of eyes on us, and the hushed whispers, until we're out in the chill of the corridor with the portrait hole behind us and I let out an angry huff of air.

Bash opens a random wooden door further down the corridor and leads me into an empty classroom. In fact, it looks more like its abandoned – littered with broken chairs and mismatched desks.

I shuffle over to one of the desks as Bash shuts the door behind him, using his wand to light the darkened room, and sit on top. I'm still furious with Lysander – the insufferable bloody git has no right to try to dictate my life.

"Don't worry about him, Ly," Bash says softly as he comes towards me. Even with me perched on the edge of the desk, he still towers over me.

"He'll get over it."

"You think so?"

"I know it."

My shoulders slump as I let out a weary sigh and Bash puts his hands on either side of my arms, rubbing some warmth into them. I look at him, and then suddenly let out a soft gasp at the sight of the nasty purple bruise developing on his cheek. I trace my fingertips over the skin beneath it, and Bash lets out a sigh through his wince, and then he leans forward and kisses me.

And I melt.

He starts off slow, but I can't help but wrap my arms around his neck, tugging at his hair gently and the touch draws a low growl from his chest and his resistance snaps. He kisses me hungrily, his mouth claiming mine – rough and hot – and when I use my legs to hook around his back and draw him closer, pulling on the front of his shirt, his hands instinctively clench tighter into my waist and a small, satisfying groan escapes from somewhere in the back of my throat.

And I wonder why I waited so long for him. Why I was so scared of what someone like my moronic brother might say about it to not go after what I truly wanted.

A shiver runs through me, from my neck down my spine, and Bash chuckles softly, though I silence him swiftly with my lips over his, demanding the taste of him as his tongue flicks over my lower lip and my fingers grasp the back of his neck, his shoulders – pulling him closer, tighter against me.

His lips tear from my own and move to graze my neck and he murmurs against my skin, between slow, gentle kisses.

"Maybe we should slow down."

I bite my lip, pulling my face back from him and nod in a silent confirmation.

I mean, I hadn't exactly… been with a guy.

If you know what I mean.

And I'm pretty sure that a dusty, old classroom is the least romantic setting for something like that.

He smiles at me, and I swear I feel some sort of wall inside me shatter. And I think he's perfect – perfect – and I can't imagine how I could ever be any happier than this.

*

A short while later we creep back into the common room, which still holds a scattering of students, most of whom are so drunk by this time that they barely register our presence. I say goodnight to Bash at the bottom of the staircase with a kiss, before tramping up them to my dormitory.

When I push the door open softly, everyone is asleep – except for Pippa, who's sitting up against her pillow with a book in her lap and the small lamp on her bedside table flicked on.

"Hey," She says in a sleepy whisper as I enter, and motions me over to her bed where she scoots over and I jump in beside her, pulling the covers up over my bent knees.

She looks me over – her emerald eyes worried. "Are you okay?"

I let out a low sigh and lean back into the pillow.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just angry I suppose."

Pippa nods her head in agreement.

"I've never seen Lysander so mad before," She says, her voice unnervingly quiet.

I don't say anything – I can't. Pippa continues when I make no move to answer.

"You really like Bash?"

I fail to supress the grin I'm trying to hide, so I cover my face with my hands instead and let out a groan.

"I really like him, Pip. Is that so wrong?"

"No – I think it's adorable," She says as she lies on her side and pulls the blanket up over her shoulders. "Don't let Susan-sad-sack over there bring you down."

I glance at Roxy's sleeping form and giggle quietly before shuffling down in the bed and turning off the light.

"Thanks, Pip."

"Night, Ly."

A/N: Guyyyyyyyssssss... writing Quidditch is hard! I swear it took me SO long to write the game, and I'm still not hapy with how it turned out! Ah well, it gets the point across I suppose.

So what'd you think? Do we like how things are going with Lyra and Bash? Yes? No? Is Scorpius being way too touchy? Yes? are the Slytherin Beaters total creeps? Hell yes? Did Lysander completely overreact in this chapter? Yes, yes he did.

Thanks so much for reading! Also I have a new Next Gen story coming out very, very soon which I hope you'll read too :) Keep a look out!