I will admit my delinquency…as it has been oh so long since my last post. I am sorry for that. But I do have a few good excuses (moving, getting a new job, finishing at my old job yesterday, packing to move again, and starting said new job in a new city this Monday…to name a few). I am not seeking accolades for getting this chapter out on this very busy weekend, but maybe one or two less pitchforks at my unintended absence? Haha maybe?
Also I promised if Iammastide updated, I would, so fair is fair. I'll do my best to get the next one up quicker.
Reviewers, I really do cherish all of you: lalalalee, The Flock's Bud, KairiM, FrenchJuliett, my-other-ride-is-your-mum, subhurt, shewritesforher, BlindAsWell, critic, outasync13, lemontray, StayWithMeForTheKids, mUfF MuNcHeR, ItsMeantToBe, PrescottandLovelessInc, and anon – thank you for taking the time to review. I'm always interested in your thoughts.
Naomi's perspective. As always, please do let me know what you think! Thank you for reading. And thank you for sticking with this.
I do not own Skins or Harry Potter, or anything else quite so magical.
Chapter XI:
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There were two teams a Slytherin rooted for. First and foremost, Slytherin, followed by whichever house was playing Gryffindor. That was simply the way it was.
The first match of the season was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. While Naomi was itching to get onto the pitch herself, she was grateful for the scouting opportunity to view two of her three opponents.
Each house's team had a different style of play. Ravenclaw was technically proficient. Hufflepuff had unmatched team cohesion. Ironically the two houses that had the biggest rivalry were the most similar in style, being the two more physical teams. Gryffindor was bold; players making spectacular attempts in the name of sport. While Slytherin was unyielding, using whatever force or play they could devise to triumph.
Hufflepuff had had three of its players graduate, losing nearly half their squad. Naomi was curious as to how much that had affected their team, and also the degree of talent that was new to the team.
Naomi looked to her right and saw Effy sat with Panda a few rows down. The blonde was dressed head to toe in yellow and black and had some sort of self made hat Naomi could only assume was supposed to resemble a badger. She chuckled to herself when she noticed Effy had let the girl dress her with a yellow and black scarf. They were all Hufflepuff supporters today, even the unenthusiastic.
There were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul. A statistic Cook took seriously, and as a double fold challenge; firstly to accomplish all 700 throughout his career, second to create a new one. He was nothing if not ambitious. When she had reminded him there was no trophy in the case for "most career penalties committed" he shot back "not all trophies go in a case," with a wink.
These ambitions were partly the reason he was keeper. He was a phenomenal beater, but fouled too much. As a chaser he had the same problem. He didn't have the restraint to be seeker, couldn't keep himself away from the skirmish. Keeper suited him and his enthusiasm best. He stayed penned in his circle, the scoring area, and gave whoever entered hell.
Cook stood next to her now, bare chested despite the cold, a large yellow H painted across his pale skin. He was hollering chants, stood on the bench, waving his arms about. Naomi smiled, despite being mid eye roll as he wrapped a black and yellow scarf round her head. He was infectious like that.
She adjusted the scarf so she could once again see properly as a familiar voice boomed throughout the stadium announcing the teams decent onto the pitch. Chris Miles, a seventh year Gryffindor, had been announcing the matches as long as Naomi had been attending Hogwarts.
"The Captains shake hands," Chris said beginning his running commentary. "Eben Jones, in his second year of captaincy. And Katie Fitch in her first of presumably many, if the way she rules the pitch is any indication of how she runs her practices. One of only two first years to make a squad since her grandfather, The Harry Potter of course."
Naomi rolled her eyes.
"Fun fact," Chris said, "Yes, professor, it's relevant I promise." He assured a doubtful looking Professor McGonagall. "Fun fact," he repeated, "Both captains are beaters, which I mean, I guess you can clearly see that. Though that's not the only double on the field, with Emily Fitch being Gryffindor's other beater, and of course, the other student to make a team as a first year in over fifty years."
Naomi sighed, thinking back to first year. If she had had to endure one more class of listening to Katie Fucking Fitch prattle on about making the team as a first year she reckoned she'd of jinxed her just to shut her up. Naomi had made the team in her second year.
"And they're off!" Chris announced cheerily as the whistle blared and fifteen brooms soared into the air.
"Gryffindor's got the quaffle." Chris said, Naomi's eyes following the movements he described. "Ridder passes off to Parry, back to Ridder, sends it over to Levan – he loses it," Chris continued on as fast as the quaffle changed hands. "That looked a bit like some fouling there to me…"
Naomi scoffed, Gryffindors always thought it looked like a foul, when it was on them. Hufflepuff picked up the quaffle and were now on the attack.
"Not that I'm arguing with the ref," Chris added.
"Fitch…well Katie Fitch, or is that Emily?" Chris began, "I think its Katie, wicked hit of the bludger that was. So Fitch One, that'll be Katie, probably, hit the bludger square at Hudson, who's dropped the quaffle."
"Picked up by Parry, passed to Levan, to Ridder, back to Levan, GOAL!" Chris bellowed his magnified voice echoing, "GRYFINDOR SCORES!"
Naomi barely heard his magnified voice over the boos and hisses produced by her surrounding Slytherins. She continued with her diligent observation of the match trying to take mental notes of each individual opponent. Her mental filing paused as she watched the play action.
"Fitch One makes a fantastic block! Levan deeks around Hudson, Aw! Saved by Boot!" Chris groaned, "I mean, good save by Boot," he added after McGonagall gave him a look. "Hufflepuff with the quaffle. Oh!" There was a collective groan from the crowd. "Fitch One, or is that Fitch Two? Fuck it, they look the same – err sorry professor – Fitch made a direct hit with the bludger. Madley is going to feel that one tomorrow."
It was Emily. Even from here she could tell, up close she didn't understand how anyone could mistake one for the other. In the air if you weren't paying attention she guessed it was a plausible mistake. But if you watched how they flew, there was no question. Katie flew her broom, Emily flew with hers. Both were exceptional fliers, but there was a finesse to Emily's flying, where Katie steered with power.
Despite other intentions Naomi found herself focusing on the redhead way up in the air. Her plans of scouting eclipsed by some indescribable fascination with watching the girl fly. Both teams had scored multiple times and the score was 90 - 50, Gryffindor in the lead. She shook her head as if to clear it with the latest Gryffindor goal. Boot wasn't a half bad keeper, give him some time and he may pose an issue. He just wasn't getting the support, at least not to the caliber Tolliver was getting from Katie Fitch and co. A Hufflepuff couldn't get anywhere near one of the hoops without taking a well aimed bludger from Katie.
"Lindley has gone into a dive!" Chris shouted as the Hufflepuff seeker zoomed toward the ground, excited murmurs erupted throughout the stands. "I think he's seen the snitch!"
There was a collective gasp, as if the stands themselves were breathing. Emily sent a bludger in the Hufflepuff's direction with a wicked whack of her bat. The Gryffindor seeker wasn't far behind, both racing for the gold glint flickering a couple meters from the ground. The bludger though well thought, seemed to have missed its mark, and shot wide of Lindley.
Katie appeared out of nowhere a head of the Hufflepuff. Naomi thought she intended to skin him for a moment (deliberately collide) a penalty she wouldn't put past the Gryffindor captain. Instead Katie flew past him. Flying parallel to the missed bludger and not looking at him she hit the bludger with the backward stroke of her bat, sending it straight into the very surprised Hufflepuff seeker.
"Bludger backbeat!" Chris yelled as the crowd roared, "FITCH DID THE BLUDGER BACKBEAT!"
Naomi watched the unsuspecting Hufflepuff seeker fall the short distance to the ground and roll. Slowly he got up and stumbled for his fallen broom. Jordan, the Gryffindor seeker zoomed around a few meters from the ground looking frantically for any sign of the snitch. Naomi laughed to herself, she never found Jordan to be that good, and her current haphazard path reminded Naomi of a bumblebee, wandering randomly looking for a flower, drunk on pollen. The snitch was gone.
It was an impressive move, even Naomi had to admit that. The timing and skill it took to match a moving bludger and without eyeing your target make an accurate hit, there were a lot of variables. It was impressive. Maybe Emily hadn't really missed after all. Maybe it had been a set up. Maybe she was getting a bit worries about their impending match.
Hufflepuff was getting a bit more aggressive, after their seeker had been brought to the ground. A few cobbing penalties were called, on both sides. As the score climbed, Cook still managed to keep his spirits up, doing his signature arse wiggle and hip thrust combo of a dance when Hufflepuff scored again, bringing the score 120 – 80. But Gryffindor was still ahead and unless Hufflepuff caught the snitch soon, it looked like a solid victory for Gryffindor.
Naomi inspected the sky. Reminding herself she was to appraise the rookies. The new players weren't bad, especially the two Gryffindor rookies and the smaller Hufflepuff. Collectively she didn't think they had much to worry about with Hufflepuff this year, at least not comparatively to last year. While they had been exciting to watch, she couldn't say she was sad to see Cadwallader or Stebbins graduate. They had been stiff competition.
She felt her body move, it almost flinched in a reactionary sort of way. But it wasn't in disappointment or surprise as a true bludger hit by Emily Fitch found its target, it was celebratory? Her fist clenched and her arm had almost spasmed forward. Naomi froze. Had she just been happy a Gryffindor had done something well? She'd realized that anxiety in her chest hadn't been from the excitement of the match or the worry about the future of the season, but from Emily. As Emily dodged an offending bludger and sent it back at the other team, she realized it was Emily her subconscious had been rooting for. That was not acceptable, silently wishing for Gryffindor to best.
She had been hoping her standoffishness would deter the redhead. But she persisted. Naomi deepened her frown when she felt the edges of her mouth involuntarily tick up at the thought. Typical, stupid Gryffindor. Though I guess if you asked them they'd call it brave. Stupidity, bravery, it was one in the same really, wasn't it? Naomi had been so careful to hate the girl, to keep her at a distance, somewhere along the line she let her guard down, or maybe Emily just slowly wore it down. While Naomi's abrasiveness seemed to not have had an effect on the redhead the last thing she had expected was for the girl's keenness to rub off on her. She was getting soft.
Naomi sat unmoving the rest of the match. She was floored by her realization, she had let Emily in, somewhere along the way. She was angry with herself for it. Hufflepuff scored once more before Gryffindor caught the snitch. The final score of the match was 270 – 90. As the scattered scarlet across the stadium cheered and the green and yellow booed Naomi still sat on her bench, unmoving. It wasn't until Cook bumped her that the noise and surrounding world returned to her present thought.
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Later that week Naomi found herself again in one of her recently formed habits. She sat at one of the small tables in the common room, to the side of the general activity and didn't particularly get anything done. It was a new habit. She found herself going between that and her more usual extreme of being sunk three textbooks deep.
Naomi twirled the hibernating snitch between her fingers. It's delicate wings formed into its detailed sides. Her fingertips played over the cold metal surface like an old lover's would; each kiss of contact a whisper of a past encounter. She looked up halting her fingers dance as she met the hauntingly blue eyes of Effy Stonem. She couldn't help but feel intruded upon, not that she was doing anything of personal significance, she felt violated nonetheless. Effy had that affect; feeling as if she gained more from a look than you meant to give, or at least that's the way Naomi always felt.
Effy met her own blue eyes a beat more before moving on with a look of seeming disinterest. Naomi looked at the golden snitch in her hand, considering it. Effy would have made a fine seeker, she thought. The dance between her fingers and cold metal resuming there choreography: spin, dip, repeat. Effy saw everything, whether you wanted her to or not and even sometimes when you didn't even see it yourself. The lithe brunette would have made a good seeker, but then Naomi supposed she'd be out of a job. She wasn't worried. Sports required an amount of dedication, skilled or not, an athlete had to put an effort forth, and if Naomi knew one thing about Effy it was that she never tried.
Sometimes she wished Effy would just get the fuck over whatever reason she decided not to use her voice and just fucking say something. Other times she was grateful the girl was decidedly mute. With some of the looks she gave Naomi, like the one just now, was scared to think about what she would say.
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Naomi sat at her usual table in the library. Hidden amongst the stacks and away from the common open area. It was tucked away, as she liked it. Other Slytherins didn't join her and in team fashion go through their coursework. That is not how she liked it. She preferred her solitude. Where uninterrupted she could diligently go through her assignments. They had learned, one way or another that she did not seek their company for a reason. She didn't want to be around them and she wasn't going to let them copy.
Sat next to her was Cook, like most signals or cues (like Naomi wanting to be alone) he chooses to ignore them. Throughout their years at Hogwarts, and the consequent years of their friendship, Naomi has grown a tolerance to his presence. He, by sure will, is allowed graces none else are, as she is with him.
Naomi blinked. A small paper ball fell to her book after hitting her forehead. Unamused blue eyes met Cooks with a look that said "seriously?" The lad flashed his toothy grin before innocently pointing the blame at the paper stick figures he'd magicked to life.
She rolled her eyes as she turned her attention back to her notes. Taking her wand from the pocket of her robes she slowly brought it under the table as Cook played with his paper stick figures. Silently she jinxed his shoelaces, knotting them together.
Professor Saar, the head of Slytherin, had hinted at a pop quiz in their next potions class. Naomi went back to outlining the most recent chapter in her potions book. She looked up to see Emily Fitch come in to view a few stacks down behind Cook. She told her eyes to look away but they were either slow or stupid because they didn't until it was too late and Emily was staring back at her. She cast eyes down quickly and began to underline text. Cook looked at her oddly before resuming his tiny paper stick army's assault on his unopened potions textbook.
"Hi,"
Naomi squeezed her eyes shut. That distinct husky voice was right behind her, directed at her.
"Hi," Naomi repeated back still looking at her text, staring at the same word. Bezoar.
She heard an exaggerated sigh, "Still not going to talk to me, yeah?"
Naomi looked quickly at Cook then back down to her book. If that was a weird statement from Emily Cook didn't show it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Naomi lied.
"Or maybe you're just scared now, how badly you're going to lose to Gryffindor when our match is up."
Naomi scoffed. Cook looked up from his army.
"Gryffindor couldn't beat us if we were broom-less," Naomi shot back confidently, looking up at the redhead. It wasn't until a small smirk pulled on the corner of Emily's mouth that Naomi realized she'd done exactly what Emily had wanted her to do. She had looked up, and they were now talking.
"Big talk for a team that doesn't even have a match under their belt," Emily smirked.
"Well, we figured you guys could do with a practice game before us, you know, try and improve yourselves a bit," she quipped back.
Emily laughed.
"Anyway," she cleared her throat, "I was wondering if you wanted to head to the prefect meeting a bit early with me?" she began.
"Can't. Sorry," Naomi said quickly, cutting off any further invitation, "I've got…a lot of work to get through." She tapped at her notes with her quill for emphasis.
"Right, yeah," Emily said, before turning she added. "I'll see you later Naomi,"
"Right," Naomi said. Her eyes followed the redhead until she disappeared amongst the stakes.
"I think she wants a shag," Cook said seriously.
"What?" Naomi said slightly alarmed. Of all the times he had to be observant…this was it.
"I think she wants it," Cook stated stretching himself out on his chair, as if in offering. "Want's a taste of the Cookie."
Naomi rolled her eyes before turning back to her textbook.
"Can't blame her," he continued, "They all do in the end."
"Cook if you don't shut up I'm going to make you do lines," Naomi threatened. It wasn't abusing prefect powers if it was on a friend right? You were supposed to be silent in the library anyway.
Cook bellowed a laugh, "Babe," Cook said, "If ya wanted me ta draw you a picture of me cock, you could've just asked."
Naomi punched him in the arm.
"Or I could show you the real f'ing," Cook smirked. Naomi gave him a searing look. "What, oh so tellin' ya I'd draw you a picture gets me a punch in the fookin' arm but offerin' up the goods is just a look?"
"I told you," Naomi rolled her eyes as she looked back through her notes. "Don't call me babe."
