Chapter Ten: Slytherin vs. Gryffindor: Part III

Age 15

Disclaimer: Recognizable characters belong to JK Rowling, as do recognizable plots. OC's, however, are mine and permission must be given before usage. Spoilers may arise within the next few chapters, so watch out!

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I've been suffering a short writers block, not to mention limited time on the computer. School also starts up in a week, so expect less updates for now on in. Also thanks so much to those of you who have been revewing!

Sevvy101, Rynx-Too-Genki, SqueakyLittleKettle, and Jas120.

The sweltering sun was quickly beginning to set, and the fans in the stands were becoming restless. The Quidditch match had started at eleven that morning, and they had only been allowed a quick break to stretch.

Many believed that the match was continuing so long because Acacia Rosier, Slytherin captain and Seeker, was purposefully dragging it out. In reality, Acacia had given up prolonging the match almost two hours before, and was now just as irritated as everyone else. If the snitch didn't appear soon, she was certain her broom would become lodged in some poor souls ass.

"Time Out!" She screeched, for the second time that hour. Madame Jenkins, the referee, signaled that her request had been granted and she flew to the top of the highest tower, landing neatly beside Professor Slughorn. Acacia had noticed his frantic waving nearly 10 minutes before hand, and had given up ignoring him.

"What?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Are we finished??"

Acacia ignored her teammates, who had come to crowd around her. She could feel the eyes of he guests on her, and Bellatrix's annoying breathing. When Acacia glanced over, she noticed Rodulphus glancing at his wife with a horrified look on his face.

Bellatrix's eyes seemed to be glowing in the setting sun.

"Acacia?" Her eyes turned swiftly back to he Head of House, who was gently tapping her on the elbow.

"What?" She snarled, and the tiny man took an immediate step back, along with everyone else within Acacia's arm length.

"Perhaps, my dear, it's time to stop prolonging the match? And just to catch the snitch before Potter?"

Acacia growled in mock imitation of an angry wolf, before turning back towards the field, looking disdainful. The Gryffindor's were crowded around Professor McGonagall, who looked just as irritated as everyone else.

"I've been purposefully searching for the Snitch for over 2 hours."

Silence feel around her. Then...

"So, in reality, you're just losing your touch?"

Julian Avery seemed to regret his words immediately. He took several steps backwards, backtracking his words as quick as possible.

"What I meant to say, was- maybe you're just- the sun, in your eyes- nothing to do with declining skill- although it does come with age-"

Acacia raised a perfectly sculpted brow, making Julian talk even faster.

"You're not getting old, of course! It's just- some people- No! Wait! You're not some people!- What I meant was..."

"Shut up."

The command was clear, and everybody within hearing distance fell silent, even people Acacia didn't know.

"I will get the snitch, even if I have to - ahem- play dirty. Alright? So get your panties out of their knots and get your asses back on that pitch!" She nearly screamed the last words, and her teammates scrambled for their brooms. They quickly mounted, and leapt over the side of the tower.

"Now, Professor..." Slughorn leapt back, clearly terrified that she might scream at him. "If there was anything you wanted, now would be a good time. I have a snitch to catch."

"N-n-o, D-d-dear. Continue o-o-on."

Smirking, Acacia leapt over the side after her team.

"The game certainly appears to be dieing down, ladies and gents- The Quaffle is being passed more sluggishly with each minute that passes on!" Thirty minutes later, John Lee's voice was still echoing around the pitch. Acacia drifted above the game, which had slowed down immensely, listening closely. "The score is 560 to 570, Slytherin in the lead, for those of you who have drifted off- so that was basically meant for everyone-" His chuckle of amusement reached Acacia's ears, and she bared her teeth at him, looking annoyed.

James Potter was zooming along the other end of the pitch, looking barely awake on his broomstick. Yaxley and Dolohov were talking, drifting alongside of each other, while Acacia's youngest cousin Regulus was still screaming after the quaffle (now in possession of Jason Poirier). Goyle and Avery were keeping a semi-conscious eye on the two bludgers, which were still zooming around the pitch. They, and the snitch, were the only things still working at the same speed as they had been that morning.

Acacia didn't bother to look around at Jackson, who she knew was probably sleeping. Quite honestly, the only thing she really cared about now was catching the snitch.

Scanning the pitch, she took a quick glance at her quests. Both Narcissa and AnnaSophia had fallen asleep, while Bellatrix, Evan, Rodulphus and Rabastan were playing a quick game of exploding snap. Lucius and Ambrose were in deep conversation, which Acacia could only assume was about Dark Objects, and the Dark Lord (or her cousin "Robert Tillman" to her parents, as they had no idea that either she or Evan were Death Eaters) was watching her closely. Acacia tried to smile, but couldn't even find the energy to do that.

She was still watching Him when He gasped, and pointed somewhere behind her. Acacia whirled, and caught immediate sight of James Potter.

A scream had erupted from the crowd, waking those who had been sleep- which was a good deal of them- and rousing those who had been playing exploding snap or reading books.

Potter was streaking around the pitch, the wind sending his messy hair back away from his face, which showed nothing but pure delight. A single golden ball of light was visible just in front of him.

Acacia's heart immediately began to pump, and she shot after him as fast as she could possibly go. But it was to late, there was no possible way she could catch up to him. Not on her own...

She was counting on Snape, now. She was already catching up to Potter, was level with him when she seen her friend taking aim with his wand.

Acacia signaled to him the best she could, she was so close to catching the snitch, her fingers were closing around the tiny ball-

The curse hit her hard enough to knock her sideway into Potter, who cried out in obvious surprise. Acacia could feel the snitch's wings pounding against her hand, she knew she had caught it, she knew she had won, but she also knew they were falling.

They weren't falling towards the ground, but instead towards the stands. She and Potter were tangled together, and neither were able to pull out of the dive. They hit the wooden stands at an amazing speed and crashed right through the one side, striking a beam, and crashed to the ground.

Scream echoed around them as people hurried to get of the stands, which were in obvious danger of falling unto the two Captains.

Everybody was well off the stands, and were crowding the pitch, when the stands creaked and groaned, collapsing on the two enemies buried beneath.

James Potter awoke seconds later, screams from above reaching his ears. Quickly taking in his surroundings, and realizing that he had barely any injuries at all, he pulled himself into a sitting position.

The Gryffindor Captain was sitting beneath the Quidditch pitch stands, and at first he appeared to be alone. Although, as he glanced down at his own body, he seen the crumpled figure of Acacia Rosier lying feet away.

She looked to James as if she may have been sleeping at an odd and uncomfortable angle, the kind that leaves you with a sore neck the next morning. But Potter knew full well she wasn't sleeping, he was able to judge that by the pool of blood surrounding her.

Puling himself up on his unsteady feet, he swayed dangerously. Dizziness almost overcame him, but there was no way he could let it. For some strange reason, he felt the need to drag himself to Acacia's side irresistible.

When he reached her, the first thing he noticed was the blood. A tiny trickle was running down her emotionless face, and a pool had focused around her mid section. James pulled her robes back gently, surveying the damage. Acacia had several broken ribs, that was for sure, and one of them was poking through the skin. He rolled her gently unto her back, and as he did so, she opened her eyes.

Acacia Rosier's eyes had be striking from birth, and were now even more so. Tears were welled in them, and she glared up at him, unable to stop the salty signs of weakness mixing with the blood on her face.

"Are you alright?" The stands above the creaked ominously, and she glanced up at them.

"No." James was surprised at her honestly. Perhaps even she seen that this was not the time to lie.

"The stands are going to collapse." He stated, gazing down at her with surprising kindness, even though hate welled inside him. "We need to move."

"Are you seriously that mentally challenged, Potter?" James could see the malice shining through her tears of pain. Anger swelled up inside him.

'If she doesn't move, we'll both die!'

"You need to move, Rosier! Or we'll both die!"

"I've been in worse situations than this Potter. So stop acting the hero and leave. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Oh, you're right. Death Eaters are in situations like this everyday!" Acacia's eyes shone with anger in the dim light. James thought that perhaps he had gone to far, even though he was certain his accusations were correct.

"How dare you even-" CRACK.

Boards were falling around them, and as one landed inches from her head, Acacia cried out in surprise. She shifted slightly, as if to use Potter to save her own body from the falling boards, and cried out again. This cry, however, was laced with that of pain.

James looked down again, to see a second rib poking through the surface of her pale stomach.

"Acacia..." His words were lost to her. As his eyes looked into hers, they became dazed and unfocused, and he knew she was minutes away from going into shock. He knew no spells to top the bleeding, or to fix her ribs, and had a brief thought about asking Remus how to do so when he got back to the Gryffindor Tower. If he ever did...

CRACK.

This time it wasn't a few boards raining down on them, instead it was the rest of the stands. James though fast, but nothing came. He couldn't believe he was losing his mind in a situation like this.

"Protego." The voice was quiet, but layered with deep loathing. It came from the direction of the ground, and seen Acacia was watching him closely, eyes back in focus.

"PROTEGO!" His voice boomed around the two solitary Quidditch players as the shield charm erupted from his wand.

The spell would last long enough, he was sure. But just incase, he threw himself down on the ground, half covering Acacia, although purposely avoiding her broken ribs.

The stands crashed down around them, screams from outside muffled by the shield charm. Acacia had once again drifted off into unconsciousness, and James slowly raised his head when the thundering stopped.

They Quidditch stands had fallen all around them. Outside of the shield charm, figures were visible running towards the fallen players. Sure they were safe, James lifted the charm.

Dumbledore was the the lead, closely followed by other teachers. James could see Acacia's family hanging around the edge, looking nervous and horrified. Her mother was crying, and the man with the white teeth looked pale and shaky.

Potter found himself quickly pushed out of the way as Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey, the young school nurse, knelt at Acacia's side. Professor McGonagall was kneeling by him, asking him questions, but they didn't seem to be registering. He could barely hear her...

"Potter! James Potter! JAMES!"

He looked over at her and smiled weakly. He pointed to Acacia's hand and said: "We lost, Professor. Sorry."

James Potter then gave into the darkness eating at the edge of his eyes, and collapsed into the startled teachers arms.

Acacia awoke several hours later on her bed in the Hospital wing. The pain she had been feeling in her abdomen right before passing out had ebbed away, and her face felt clean and free of blood. There were two tiny notes left on her night table, one in elegant writing, the other in a messy scrawl. Acacia pulled the neat one towards her, reading that one first.

' Dearest Acacia,

Your Mother and I, along with the rest of the family, were asked to leave so that you could get your rest. We're all very worried about you, and your cousin Narcissa asked Severus Snape to keep an eye on you for us. He seemed strangely jumpy and worriful, so perhaps you should send for him as soon as you awaken?

Acacia snorted. Of course he was worriful, this was all his fault!

We all wish you the best of luck in recovering, and hope you will write us all soon. We await your presence at the Christmas ball come Christmas break, and many cannot wait to see you. Especially one Joseph Travers.

We love you, Daughter, get well soon!

Love;

Father.'

Acacia smiled down at the letter, only pausing to re-read the line about Joseph Travers. 'So it seems,' She thought, a hint of a smile plying about her lips, 'That Master Joseph is finally showing interest to my Father?' Joseph Travers Senior had been friends with Ambrose Rosier for a long time, though the Fathers had never previously mention a future bond between Acacia and Joseph.

That little part had always been kept well hidden inside her head. And when something was hidden there, it hardly ever got out.

The second letter was shorter, and less personalized.

'Rosier,

Get well soon, Thorn Bitch.

From;

James and the Marauders.'

This time, Acacia frowned. She was extremely curious as to weather or not Potter had told his beloved group of friends about her bout of weakness beneath the stands. It couldn't get out that she had cried, it was something she hadn't done since she was 6!

Sighing, she settled back against her pillow. She could hunt down Potter in the morning and bully him into keeping his mouth shut.

For now though, all she wanted was a good nights sleep, perhaps mixed with dreams of Joseph Travers.

What to expect next time?

The Rosier Christmas Party has always been a sort of Tradition. And while Acacia has always loved the ball, she intends to make this years even better...

-sl.smith